He narrowed his eyes and jerked his head back. “Said the bitch teacher makes the assessment. Fuck that.”
Olivia licked her dry lips. “Mrs. White is an excellent teacher. If she doesn’t think—”
“I fucking know what my daughter needs. I read with Lucy every night—she’s got some problems.”
“What does your wife think?” What the hell? Did I just ask that?
“I’m not married,” he said, a smirk ghosting his lips.
Olivia cringed, still kicking herself for asking the question. “Well then, her mother?”
“She’s not involved.”
Heavy footsteps thumped across the waxed floor, and Olivia looked behind her shoulder and saw Marcus Thurber—also known as the “Casanova of Slavens Elementary”—walking toward her. The seventh and eighth grade teacher wore one his disarming smiles on his face as he came over and stood beside her.
“Playing hooky?” he said, nudging her with his elbow.
A low rumble of sound—almost like a growl, came from her neighbor’s direction, and Olivia snapped her gaze to him. A small gasp broke from her throat: his face darkened into a scowl and his eyes glittered like sharpened knives. She glanced at his clenched fists and froze in place. Marcus must’ve picked up the menacing vibe emanating from Lucy’s father because he quickly stepped away from her as a nervous laugh escaped her lips.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt you,” he said, only looking at Olivia. “I’ll catch you later.” He sauntered away and disappeared into one of the classrooms.
“Who the fuck is he?”
Startled by the harshness of his voice, she jumped and almost dropped the books on the floor all over again.
“He’s the English teacher for the upper classes,” she said, her voice sounding like sandpaper.
“I don’t like him.”
A simple statement that held so much threat. A chill snaked its way down her spine.
“Okay, but you don’t even know him.”
“I know his type.”
If she closed her eyes while having this conversation, Olivia would swear she was talking to one of the bikers in her dad’s MC. It was too crazy.
“Uh … I have to get to my classroom. I’m so late right now.”
There was a pause while black eyes bored into her.
“Go on. I’m not stopping you, am I?” His voice held a glint of amusement. The tone slid over her skin like a lingering caress, setting every nerve ending alive.
Olivia groaned inwardly, hating the way her body was reacting to him. She took a hesitant step backward, which made him smile and run his tongue over his bottom lip. Another silent groan. Dammit!
“Am I stopping you, Olivia?” he asked in a low voice.
“No,” she whispered, her heartbeat roaring in her ears.
“Then …?” He moved closer.
“There you are, Olivia.” Clara White’s voice broke the spellbinding hold he had on her, and she let out a relieved breath and shifted the load in her arms.
“How are you, Mr. Walsh?” Clara’s voice was stern.
Without answering, Lucy’s father pressed his lips together then swaggered down the hallway until he pushed open the steel door with his foot and disappeared into the bright morning light.
“He’s such a rude man,” Clara huffed. “I hope he wasn’t bothering you.”
“No, he wasn’t,” Olivia replied, her gaze still fixed on the closed door.
“The best thing for you to do is stay far away from him. He’s bad news, and it isn’t any wonder that his daughter, Lucy, is so snippy and morose.” The teacher waved her hand toward the end of the hallway. “Look who she has as a role model.” She rolled her eyes.
“Mr. Walsh told me Lucy’s struggling with her reading. I wouldn’t mind helping her out.” Olivia ignored the older woman’s snide remarks about her neighbor.
“Lucy’s reading is only a little below standard. Nothing that more concentration can’t solve. She doesn’t need to spend time with you or any other assistant. I have students in my class who need more help than she does. Men like him”—another wave of her hand toward the closed door—“are used to bullying people to get their own way. I already told him that Lucy is doing just fine. Don’t let him push you into doing something that isn’t needed.”
“He didn’t push me at all. He just mentioned that Lucy is having some problems.”
Clara pushed the wire-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. “Well, she’s not. Remember to stay away from him—he’s bad news.”
Olivia was ready to ask her why when Neil, one of the second graders, rushed out into the hall holding one hand over his mouth and another on his belly.
“Are you sick?” Clara asked, scurrying over to the boy.
Neil nodded as he hurried toward the bathroom with his teacher on his heels. Olivia glanced at the clock again and her stomach knotted. I should’ve already been in my classroom. Instead she’d been frozen to the spot, captivated by her neighbor who, according to Clara’s estimation, was bad news and should be avoided at all costs. Why does that intrigue me even more? Olivia shook her head as she hurried to the third grade classroom.
When she entered the room, Harper gave her a concerned look and motioned for her to come over. Multiplication problems littered the whiteboard and several students were in front of it, figuring out the answers to the equations.
“I’m so sorry I’m late. I had a mishap with the shower-head this morning. Just one more thing I need to repair. How’s it going with the lesson?”
Harper chuckled. “You’re going to have to find yourself a man just to help you out around your place.”
Her neighbor’s rugged face flashed in her mind. “It’s less complicated for me to learn how to do the repairs than to be involved with any guy.”
“Still holding strong to your no man rule?”
“Yep.” I’m trying. No … I am.
“Good for you. Last night’s date was a disaster. I’ll tell you all about it at lunch,” Harper whispered.
“I can’t wait to hear—I need something to fortify my resolve.” Olivia snickered.
“Believe me—this’ll do it.” Harper glanced over at the whiteboard. “Estella, double-check your addition.” She turned back to Olivia. “Aaron, Lucas, Emily, and Riley need help with the lesson.”
“All right.” Olivia put away the reading books in one of the cupboards then took out the math book. “I’m on it.” She walked over to the four students and led them out of the room to a smaller, adjacent one that had a round table surrounded by six chairs. The students plopped down on the plastic chairs, and Olivia opened a folder, handed out a worksheet filled with multiplication problems, and began to work with the children.
The minutes turned into hours, and before Olivia knew it, the last school bell rang and students poured out into the hallway from every room. She navigated toward the front door through the sea of children, and the din of the halls began to subside as the students rushed out of the building.
Standing on the corner, Olivia watched out for the children as parents and guardians picked them up.
“There he is,” she heard one of the third-grade mothers say to another one.
“Damn … he’s so hot,” the other one replied.
Olivia looked over her shoulder and saw Jenny Pierson and Ashley Tarleton staring across the street. She darted her gaze in that direction and sucked in a sharp breath: Lucy’s father. Of course, because he is fucking hot. As he crossed the street, she was acutely aware of his narrow hips and the corded power in his thighs and legs that molded around his tight blue jeans. Oops! He caught her looking at him, and not at his face. Damn. His lips tucked into a smug smile, and she bent down, pretending to pick up something from the ground.
“Hiya, Animal,” Ashley Tarleton said in a breathy voice that pricked Olivia’s nerves.
“Hey,” he replied stopping in front of the two mothers.
Ashley scooted closer to him and s
aid something in a low voice that Olivia couldn’t hear. Animal—was that his actual name, or a pet name Ashley had invented for him?—chuckled and whispered something back. From a sideways glance, she watched him laugh and talk with the perky blonde in black yoga pants and a low-cut sweater.
Olivia felt a twinge of something like jealousy, which was ridiculous because she didn’t even know him. And she definitely wanted to keep it that way. She moved away and focused on the kids, refusing to give him, Ashley Tarleton, or any other sexed-up mother another thought.
“Olivia!” someone called out.
She turned around in the direction of the voice and saw Lucy skipping toward her. Her dark braids bounced against her red quilted jacket. Olivia smiled and waved at the young girl.
“Hi, Lucy.”
A rosy flush to the cheeks from the chilly air illuminated the girl’s face. “What’re you doing here?”
“I teach here. I help out in Ms. Porter’s classroom.”
“She’s gonna be my teacher next year.” A wide smile revealed a lost tooth on the bottom.
“You’ll love her—she’s wonderful. How do you like your class?”
Lucy shrugged. “It’s okay. I wish I went to Paisley’s school. She’s my new friend.”
“That’s great.”
“Hey, kiddo.” There was that deep voice that made Olivia’s insides jump.
She willed herself not to turn around.
“Hi.” The gaiety in Lucy’s demeanor plummeted.
“Hey, Teach.” A sliver of mockery laced his voice.
Plastering a too-broad-of-a-smile on her face, Olivia pivoted and lifted her chin. “Hello, Mr. Walsh.”
He leaned in close … too close. “Fuck that, Olivia, call me Animal.” The warm breath of his whisper fanned over her neck.
She stepped away from him. “That’s an unusual name.”
“It’s not his real one,” Lucy grumbled, seemingly upset that Olivia’s attention had shifted from her to her father.
Olivia focused back on the girl, refusing to let him pull her in again like he had earlier that day. “I kind of thought it wasn’t. Do you have a nickname?”
Lucy shook her head. “My mom called me Lucy”—her face grew pale and she looked down at the sidewalk—“or stupid brat.”
The last three words were barely audible but Olivia caught them and they pierced her heart. She knew too well how verbal abuse could hurt just as much, if not more, as a punch in the face, or a strap to the back. Her mother’s weapon of choice had never been; her hands, like her father’s, but her tongue was sharper than a razor blade, and cut much deeper.
“I don’t have a nickname either,” Olivia said, tugging at one of Lucy’s braids.
Lucy looked up. “You don’t?”
“Nope, and it’s okay. I like my name just fine. You have a very pretty name too.”
“I do? No one’s told me that.”
“I named you after Grandpa’s mom. You got your great-grandma’s name,” Animal said as he moved away from Olivia and stood beside Lucy. “Her full name was Lucille, but everyone called her Lucy. She was a strong woman who didn’t let anyone get away with shit. You have her dark hair and spirit.”
Lucy’s eyes widened. “I didn’t know that.”
“I got pictures of her. Do you wanna see them?”
The girl nodded so hard that her braids swayed as if a strong wind had just blown through.
Warmth spread through Olivia as she watched Animal try and connect with his fragile daughter. From the first day she’d met the young girl, Olivia had picked up a strain of sadness and loneliness within the child. Then, when she’d seen how standoffish Lucy was with her father, Olivia suspected something had happened to crush the girl’s trust in him.
“We gotta get going, kiddo.” Animal’s deep voice pulled Olivia from her thoughts. “We need to go to the grocery store before we head home.”
“Okay.” Lucy looked over at Olivia. “My dad doesn’t know how to cook.”
“Hey, I make killer bacon and eggs.” He chuckled.
“I mean like Aunt Jada.” A small smile danced across the girl’s lips. “She’s my aunt. I never had an aunt before,” she said to Olivia.
“Aunts and grandmothers are awesome,” she replied, fully aware of Animal’s piercing gaze on her.
“Do you cook?” the girl asked.
Taken aback, Olivia just nodded.
“See …” she said, looking at her dad.
“What’s your point?” he asked. “She’s a woman—of course she can cook.”
Olivia laughed dryly. “I don’t think there’s a cooking gene in women, but I could be wrong.”
Lucy giggled and Animal’s forehead furrowed as he rocked back on the heel of his boots.
“I was going to bring over dinner to you and your dad as a thank you for helping me out on Saturday. What’s your favorite food?”
The girl scrunched her face and tilted her head as if deep in thought.
“You don’t have to do that,” he said, irritation apparent in his voice.
Olivia threw him a sidelong glance. “I know that, but I want to. If you hadn’t come along, my cabinet would’ve been ruined in the snowstorm that night.”
“Spaghetti,” Lucy said.
“I didn’t know that.” Animal rammed his hands in the pockets of his jacket.
“I love spaghetti too. How about I make up a batch and bring it by on Wednesday night?”
Lucy looked over at her father. “Will that work?”
“Yeah.” His gaze fixed on Olivia. “That’ll work just fine.”
Animal was doing that thing again with his eyes, drawing Olivia in and captivating her, yet making her a nervous wreck.
Olivia pulled up the collar of her sweater and glanced away. “I’ll let you two get going.” She smiled at Lucy.
For several seconds the three of them stood in silence, but Animal’s gaze on her never wavered. Breaking the quiet, Olivia waved at Lucy then walked away, very much aware of his eyes on her behind as she walked back into the school.
Once inside, she leaned against the concrete wall and took a few deep breaths in an attempt to calm her nerves. Why do I let him get to me? There was something oddly familiar about Animal, but she couldn’t pinpoint exactly what it was. Also, an aura of danger surrounded him, and from the way Ashley and Jenny acted toward him, she knew women picked up on it. Many women were drawn to that—bad boys, a walk on the wild side—but Olivia wasn’t one of them. Growing up with a dad in an outlaw club, she’d had her fill of danger and recklessness and all the women who’d thrown themselves at her father without even giving a damn that he was married with children. Then again, he hadn’t given a shit about that either. Why am I thinking about all of that right now? And what’s up with that dumb nickname—Animal. His buddies probably gave it to him because of the way he parties or something equally juvenile.
“Are we still coming over to see your house?” Alice asked, jarring Olivia out of her musings.
“Uh … yeah. Is Harper still down for it?” she replied.
“She is. We thought we’d christen your house with Chinese food and a good bottle of Chardonnay. I already bought the wine.” Alice shifted her large tote from one hand to the other.
“I insist on paying for dinner. Does delivery from Twin Dragons sound good?”
“Works for me, and you know Harper loves that place,” Alice said.
“Then it’s a plan. Come on over around six.”
“Okay, I’ll tell Harper. See you soon.” Alice opened the front doors. “Are you leaving now?”
“No. I have to finish up a report before I head home. Later.” Olivia pushed away from the wall and scampered down the hall toward her classroom.
* * *
Olivia sat cross-legged on a chair, wrapped in her favorite fuzzy green nightshirt. Strewn across the coffee table laid empty Chinese food cartons. She picked up her glass of wine and leaned back against the soft cushion.
“I’m so stuffed,” she said before taking a sip.
“Me too, but then I’ll be starved in about an hour. It’s always like that with me and Chinese food,” Alice said.
“It was so good,” Harper said. “And just what I needed after that disastrous date last night.”
Olivia shook her head. “I still can’t believe what an asshole that guy was. What kind of a guy talks about ways he could get his ex-girlfriend back? And this was your first date.”
Harper sat up straighter on the couch. “I know! And … to add insult to injury, the idiot wanted me to help him come up with ideas on how to win her back.” She groaned and sank back into the cushion. “Why can’t I find a normal guy?”
“Where did you meet this jerk?” Alice asked as she broke open her fortune cookie.
“Online. I’m definitely done with that dating site. I’m thinking of checking out another one. Kennedy keeps talking about Discreet Passion. I’ve stayed away from it based on the name alone, but I may check it out. She says it’s for hookups, one-nighters, but also for people looking for relationships and even marriage. At this point, what do I have to lose?”
“Your life,” Olivia said.
“I’m with her on this one,” Alice added.
“I’m real careful when I meet a guy. I always go to public places for a while, I never give them my address, and I do background checks to make sure they aren’t on parole or have anything creepy out there. Too bad there aren’t ways to check out if a guy’s a jerk before you waste your time on him.”
The women laughed, and Olivia pushed the second bottle of wine toward Harper. “As long as you’re careful then I guess it’s okay. I’m gonna go on one of those sites as research for a paper in my psych class.”
Alice giggled. “That’s a new one, Olivia. Come on, you’re with friends. You can tell us if you’re getting back out there.”
“I’m not, and I’d totally tell you if I were. This really is for my psychology class that I’m taking online. Just one more semester and I’ll have my degree. I can’t wait.”
“You’d make a great teacher. I think you should do that instead of being a school counselor,” Harper said as she filled her wineglass.
“I love teaching, but I’m drawn to guiding and working with troubled kids,” Olivia replied. “Anyway, I’m thinking of setting up a fake profile on Discreet Passion because it isn’t just the run-of-the-mill dating site.”
Animal’s Reformation Page 7
