I push myself away from the window, and glance at the watch, “Mr. Davis must be waiting for me. Can you wait here a second, while I go deal with him?”
“I could come with you,” She offers.
I was about to say no, and then I stop and grin, “Why not?”
I wanted to see how my extra chill best friend and the uptight Collin would react to each other.
Scarlett trailed after me to Collin’s office, and I knock, before looking in.
He was leaning against his desk, looking frazzled, his sleeves rolled up to his elbow, those dark glasses of his tipped on the edge of his nose, as he studied the document in his hand. When I call out his name, he rakes a frustrated hand through his dark hair, messing it up even more.
“Sorry, Miss Johnson. Come in.”
Scarlett follows me in, and I introduce her, “This is my friend, Scarlett. She was just passing by. I hope you don’t mind.”
Collin raises his eyes to look at her and his mouth fell open.
I grin.
That was usually the reaction a lot of guys had with Scarlett.
I turn around to say something, when my jaw fell open.
She was blushing!
What the hell was going on?
Scarlett didn’t blush. I don’t think ‘blush’ was even a word in her vocabulary.
I was completely side-lined as Scarlett stepped forward, that red tint on her unpainted face, “Hello.”
“Hi,” Collin breathes, unable to take his eyes off her.
I roll my eyes.
“Mr. Davis, the papers?”
“Oh. Oh, yes.” Collin blinks and starts looking for them on his desk.
“So, should I be calling you Mr. Davis?” Scarlett asks, taking a step forward, getting her game back on.
Collin actually turned red in the face, his glasses sliding off his nose as he moves about hastily, “Y-You can call me, Collin.”
“I plan on it,” Scarlett murmurs.
Pinching her, I grab the papers that Collin held out, and hastily sign them. Not even giving the two of them a chance to talk, I wave at Collin and drag Scarlett out of there.
“What are you doing?” I hiss at her. “That’s my boss!”
“Abby, I think I’m in love.” My best friend says, dreamily.
“You’re in what? You just met him!” I frown at her, having never seen her like this before.
Scarlett lets me push her into the car seat, before saying, “I know. He’s not even my type. He’s such a nerd. But,” There was a gleam in her eyes, “I want him. And not just in bed. I want him.”
“You haven’t even said two words to him!” I stare at her.
Scarlett blinks, and then turns to me, her eyes narrowing, “And you’re going to change that, aren’t you?”
I shake my head, “I’ll think about it.”
However, I cast a worried look in her direction. I have never seen her behave so ga-ga over a man. It is usually the other way around.
Fortunately, this little incident made me forget about my own particular incident with Steven Tanner. However, that was only till we got home.
As soon as we entered the apartment, the door buzzer rang, and I went to check who it was. I blink at the delivery guy whose shirt bore the logo of one of the most expensive bakeries in Boston.
“Are you lost?” I stare at him.
The man held out a huge basket in his hands, and he read from a slip in his hand, “Abby Johnson?”
“Yeah.” I say, warily.
“These are for you.” He hands me the basket, before touching his cap, and turning around.
Still standing in the doorway, I open the note that was stuck on the basket, and my heart skips a beat at the words.
“What is it?” Scarlett calls out from the kitchen.
I crumple the card in my hand, stuffing it into the pockets of my jeans, before saying, “Somebody sent us muffins.”
Scarlett appears in the doorway of the small foyer, looking a little taken aback, “Somebody just randomly sent us muffins?”
She peeks in and makes a disappointed sound, “These are blueberry muffins. They’re your favourite, not mine.”
Taking a step back, she gives me an odd look, “Somebody sent you blueberry muffins. And -“she checks the logo on the basket, “-from one of those top tier bakeries that we saw on TV the other day.”
She takes a step closer and her eyes narrow when I take one back. I didn’t know what she was up to till she made a grab for me, making me jump in surprise.
However, she had seen the note in my pocket and now it was in her hands.
"’Aaron told me you like blueberry muffins. Steven.’”
Scarlett gave me a look, “Steven Tanner sent you muffins!?”
I felt a little awkward and unsure, “I didn’t ask him to.”
“Of course, you didn’t,” Scarlett just studies me. “The man sent you muffins from one of the most famous bakeries in Boston. What’s going on between the two of you?”
“Nothing,” I protest. “I don’t even like him. He’s a jerk!”
“Really?” A sly smile forms on Scarlett’s lips. Backing, away, she plops her perfect little ass on the couch and pats on the seat beside her, “Come tell Aunty Scarlett all about it.”
I sigh.
This was definitely not going to go over well.
Chapter 7
Yawning, I mix the sandwich batter.
It was too early to be cooking, but since today every class was having a small party at the end of the day, we all had to bring something. I opted for egg salad sandwiches.
A glance at the clock showed the time to be five in the morning.
Scarlett was slumped over the island counter behind me, already snoring. I roll my eyes at her. I had told her she didn’t need to help me, but she was adamant.
Another three weeks, and she would be gone for her Christmas vacations.
I sigh. Yesterday’s conversation had gone just as I had anticipated.
“He’s flirting with you!”
“How do you flirt with someone by getting in their face!?”
I whip the batter a little too hard and some of it flew onto the counter. Cleaning it up, I pick up my coffee and sip it, lost in thoughts.
I didn’t want to be attracted to this man. But, as Scarlett so eloquently put it, I definitely wanted into his pants.
I close my eyes.
This wasn’t me.
I was always in control of my emotions. I always knew how to handle a situation. Scarlett was the wild one while I was the calm and collected one.
Three meetings with this man and every time he looked at me, I found myself squirming as my body reacted to his very presence. It didn’t matter what it was, whether it was his voice, or the way his hands felt on my skin, I couldn’t control myself.
Maybe that’s why I found myself so irritated by his presence.
Because I couldn’t control the situation.
I take out the sliced bread and start applying the batter.
He was a billionaire. I was a school teacher.
There was a massive difference between us and there was no chance in hell that he was interested in me for anything more than a dalliance, if he was interested to begin with.
I seal the sandwiches.
Forget him, I warned myself.
All I had to do was be on my guard today, and make sure there was a desk between us.
I start grinning.
Yes, this could work.
Throughout the day, I am distracted.
Even the students noticed I wasn’t all there, and I could hear the gossip mill begin. I watched the students file out, absently, and a small child darting into the room.
Aaron made sure no one was watching before he climbs onto my desk, which was now his official seat because it kept him at eye level with me when I am standing.
I vaguely wonder when he stopped treating me like a teacher and graduated me to a more friend level. I wond
er whether it was such a wise move to encourage him.
But when he gave me that brilliant smile, which revealed his missing tooth, I couldn’t help melting. He was too adorable.
“My class had a party, today,” He informs me, kicking his legs in the air, as I start checking the quizzes that were due to be handed in tomorrow.
“Was it fun?” I ask him, smiling, a quick glance in his direction to show him that I was paying attention.
He nods, chattering like a little monkey, “I brought chicken rolls, and Noah brought the same. But mine were better than his because Dad and I put ketchup over them last night.”
I snort at the image of the father-son duo hunched over chicken rolls, squirting ketchup all over them, in the middle of the night.
Aaron gives me a strange look, before pardoning my laughter and continuing, “Everyone finished Noah’s rolls first, though. But I saved one for you. Miss Roberts said I could.”
He took out a red stained tissue paper which contained a mushed dry chicken roll.
Honestly, I was hesitant to touch it, but his feelings were more important to me than mine, so I unwrap it, gingerly, and bite into it.
“It’s really good,” I tell him when he shoots me an expectant look.
It was absolutely terrible.
“Dad and I bought the whole box from a bakery on the way to school this morning.”
I swallowed, a difficult feat.
Oh, I definitely know this bakery.
I found myself curious as to why Mr. Tanner would buy his son goods from cheap, local bakeries, when he could just as well afford the best of places.
Was he a miser?
That couldn’t be the case because the muffins he sent me were quite expensive.
The man was a conundrum.
“Oh,” My eyes widen, and I lean down to bring out the huge Tupperware box that had been under my desk, “I saved you all these treats from my own class party!”
I open the lid and Aaron’s clear blue eyes hold delight and awe at the assortment of food. I hand him a makeshift bib, “Go ahead. It’s all yours. Today, we’ll have our own little party.”
Before Aaron could dig in though, the sound of footsteps had both of us looking up. I hastily pick up the small child and deposit him on the floor, before the door opens and I hear a familiar voice, “Miss Johnson!”
Collin appears in the doorway, looking a little flustered.
He appears startled at the sight of Aaron eyeing him warily from behind me.
“I didn’t know you were busy. I’m sorry.”
I wave my hand, “No, Aaron’s father picks him up late, so I just keep an eye on him. He’s just having a snack.”
“Oh.” Collin blinks at him, “Uh, carry on then.”
Aaron eyes me for permission as if I was the only higher authority that he recognized, and I gesture with my chin. However, instead of taking the Tupperware to a seat, he stands next to me, eyeing Collin, as he chews on a piece of beef jerky.
It was almost as if he was standing guard over me.
If that was not the cutest thing I had ever seen, I don’t know what was.
I tuck my cheek in my tongue to prevent the laughter from spilling out, and watch Collin as he fixes his eyes on me.
He looks a little nervous and I wonder at that.
“Is there anything I can help you with, Mr. Davis?” I ask, keeping my tone polite.
“Um, yeah. You can call me Collin, uh, Miss Johnson.”
I blink.
Well, this was sudden.
“Well, alright, Colli-“
My eyes flew to the man standing behind my boss, in the doorway, wearing an unfathomable expression on his face.
“Hello, Abby.”
Chapter 8
“Mr. Tanner!” Collin’s face froze in shock at the sight of the man.
I nod at my frequent classroom visitor, “Mr. Tanner.”
Steven walks past Collin and leans across me, his face inches from mine, to grab a pastry from the box that his son was eating from.
Eating the whole thing in one bite, he gives me a slow smile that makes my insides dance that traitorous dance, “I thought we were on a first name basis, Abby.”
My eyes shoot daggers at him, “You’re mistaken, Mr. Tanner.”
He just shrugs and reaches over to take another pastry, before I grab his hand mid-way, stopping him, “Those are for Aaron.”
His hip was leaning against my desk and his muscled thigh, hidden underneath those gray pants, was right next to my face as I gave him a steady look.
He didn’t take his hand back from me, just murmurs, “But I’m also hungry. What will you feed me?”
The way his eyes roamed over my body in deliberate meaning, made me swallow hard, and release his hand.
Ignoring him, I turn my head to my boss, who was gaping at us, “You were asking me something, Mr. – I mean, Collin?”
“N-No, nothing. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
With that, Collin walks out leaving me behind frowning.
I look up at Steven with a scowl, “If my job gets put in jeopardy because of your actions –“
Steven shrugs, licking the crumbs off his thumb, his gray eyes on mine, “What did I do?”
My cheeks flush, “You know what you did.”
“I assure you, Abby. I have no idea.”
I glare at him. This was not how I had intended today to go.
I had had a plan.
Steven’s voice break into my thoughts, “So, who was that?”
“Why do you want to know?” I ask him, in a challenging voice.
“Just curious, since you seem to be on a first name basis with him, but not with me.” He leans across me and snags a puff pastry.
I turn around and glare at Aaron, “Will you get that away from your father? I saved those for you, not him.”
Aaron immediately grabs the box and moves to a safer location, just out of his father’s reach.
“Turning my own son against me now, eh Abby?”
My eyes roam over his long frame, as he leans against my desk, his hands now tucked in his pockets, the overcoat that had become so staple to him, hanging around his ankles.
“What do you want, Mr. Tanner?” I sigh, tired of whatever game he was playing.
He studies me, his lips slightly curved, “How did you find the muffins?”
“Why’d you send them?”
He just watches me, and then nudges his head at his son, who picks up his bag and runs out, holding the Tupperware box close to his chest.
“Bye, Miss Abby!”
I stand up, and Steven’s grin widens when I refuse to back down.
“Why did you send the muffins?”
“Because you like them,” He replies, his eyes moving to my mouth, before meeting my gaze.
I grit my teeth, and my body takes a small step closer to his obvious delight, “I don’t like you.”
I feel his hands creep up to settle at the curve of my hip, a possessive hold, “I think you do.”
“Well, you think wrong, then.” I inform him, very aware of the way his eyes darkened.
My own pulse was skipping a beat, it was running so fast.
His voice was a rough murmur, “Well, let’s check that, shall we?”
Before I knew it, his other hand had pulled the pins from my up-do, and gripped my hair tightly, before smashing his mouth down on mine.
It wasn’t a gentle kiss by any terms.
It wasn’t tender.
There was nothing soft about it.
He stepped in and dominated my mouth.
I fought back.
I wasn’t going to let him win.
But, he walked me back into the wall, and the grip on my hair was almost punishing, as he plundered my mouth. His tongue probes at my lips and I am forced to give way, my mind so fogged with hot pleasure that I can no longer think straight.
He lowers his hands to cup my ass, and then suddenly, both his hands are on m
y ass as he lifts me up to put my legs around his waist.
His eyes are dark as they open momentarily, and they promise me both pain and pleasure, a combination I had not known I would want with such desperation.
His tongue explores every crevice of my mouth, sucking on my tongue, as I moan at all these sensations, feeling my panties grow wetter each time he sucks on my tongue. His mouth moves below, presses open-mouth kisses on my jaw, my neck, my collar bone. He sucks my neck harder when I moan, my eyes open, unseeing.
When he bites down on my collar bone, I let out a short cry, and he immediately covers my mouth with his again.
We both are breathing hard when he releases me, and as he lets me down, my body brushes against the evidence of his arousal and I swallow hard.
He uses his hand to lift my chin up to face him and his eyes search my face.
Whatever he found there, satisfied him, and he leans forward to whisper against my ear, his hot breath making me shiver, “I’m not done with you yet, Abby.”
He turns around to walk out, and I stumble into my seat, mind not functioning.
What the hell was that?
My fingers move to my swollen lips and my legs are clenched together.
I was still turned on.
I had had a total of two lovers. Both of them had been gentle in bed.
I stare at the door, my heart still beating so fast.
Steven Tanner didn’t seem like the type to be gentle in bed. Those gray eyes, when he had pulled my head back with a firm grip in my hair, had promised me exquisite pain and pleasure, and I felt myself craving that.
“No.” I stand up, my voice echoing in the empty classroom. “I’m not going to – I’m not going to do this.”
I move around the room, my movements jerky as I stuff the remaining papers in my bag.
My date with Travis was in two days.
My face turns red at the idea that I was just seeing the man to sleep with him. I march to my car and start the engine.
It splutters and dies.
Scowling, I try again.
This time it starts, and I breathe a sigh of relief. However, Steven’s words come roaring back and I grumble under my breath.
There is nothing wrong with my car.
I had first purchased Gertha at a used car sales lot when I was eighteen, and I have maintained her ever since.
Wintertime Heat: A Christmas Single Dad Romance Page 4
