Sexy Love: A Sexy Series Novella (The Sexy Series Book 4)

by Carly Phillips

  “Divorced then?”

  She didn’t mind the questions. She’d opened the door, and of course he was curious, but people did tend to judge her. There’d been the moms at the preschool, where she was the youngest one dropping off her little boy, which happened when you got pregnant at the age of twenty. They’d stared and whispered as if she’d done something wrong.

  She pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, catching the way she’d nearly succumbed to awkwardness at the truth of her life. Instead she squared her shoulders and owned who she was. “No. I’m a single mom.”

  His eyes opened wide. “Kudos to you. My mom raised me alone, and I know how hard it must be for you. Forgive me for saying so, but you must have had him when you were young.”

  “I did,” she murmured and took a bite of her burger instead of explaining further. Her life was complicated, her past painful, and she wasn’t going to elaborate with a stranger.

  He leaned in closer and she caught a hint of delicious-smelling aftershave. “I didn’t mean to strike a nerve.”

  “You didn’t.” She began to shake her head and decided to tell the truth. “Well, maybe you did. People can be judgmental. But clearly you’re not, so we’re good. Now can you tell me more about the shopping around here?”

  His gaze settled on hers for a long moment before acknowledging her subject change with a nod of his head. “There’s an Acme on the west side of campus, and if you go farther into town, there’s a Stop & Shop. For the rush things you might need, there’s a store on campus that sells everything from college gear to quick snacks and basic toiletries. And for real shopping, you get on 95 and head south to the mall.” He followed up that summary by picking up his drink and taking a long sip.

  She grabbed her cell and typed shorthand information about everything he’d said into her note app. “Well, that helps. A lot. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  They ate, finishing up the remainder of their meals in companionable silence until her phone buzzed and she glanced down.

  Carrie’s text showed on her screen. Shower time. L.J. will FaceTime you in about thirty minutes.

  She glanced at Shane. “I need to get going. My son is going to FaceTime with me soon, and I don’t want to miss the call.”

  “I get it. You’re a good mom.” He smiled at her, the beauty in his expression taking her breath away.

  “Thank you. I try to be.”

  Because they’d ordered and brought their trays outside, she started to gather things together.

  “I’ve got it,” he insisted.

  “Okay … well, thank you for getting me to the right place. And for dinner.” He’d paid despite her protests.

  “You’re welcome.”

  A pause ensued, the first truly awkward silent moment since they’d met. She didn’t know what to say, and he seemed equally uncertain. Would he ask to see her again? Take her number? She realized they hadn’t even exchanged last names.

  And she wasn’t even sure if she wanted to get involved with a man now. Although her best friend from Tampa, Layla, insisted it was time Amber tried dating again, she wasn’t ready. Considering she’d just moved to a new state, a new guy was the last thing she thought she needed.

  And since Shane, despite the occasional intense and lingering looks her way, didn’t seem inclined to make a move, she decided to wrap things up. “Well, thanks again and it was nice meeting you.”

  Feeling like a dork, she waved a hand in the air, turned, and walked away, hoping she was headed in the right direction this time. And doing her best not to turn around and look back to see if he was watching her.

  * * * *

  Shane watched the sexy sway of Amber’s hips as she walked away, damning himself for letting her go without exchanging numbers. Despite the fact that he knew it was for the best. With the summer session beginning, he had two months to work on his paper in between teaching Intro to Economics as a substitute for a fellow professor, a friend who was on sabbatical.

  Shane had always thrown himself into his work, determined to be successful in a way his father had told him he’d never be.

  His father, and he used the term loosely, was a lawyer at a major Boston law firm, who’d divorced Shane’s mother when he was five years old and married the partner’s daughter in the firm where he worked, starting a new life and a new family. Leaving Shane’s mother to raise her son essentially on her own.

  Sure, there was alimony and child support, but his mom had been a single parent, there for Shane when he was sick, picking him up after school, attending every major event in his life when his father hadn’t.

  Yet despite being a mostly absentee parent, Zachary Warden, a top corporate attorney, had expected his only son to follow in his footsteps if Shane wanted him to pay for college. Shane’s decision to become a college professor had been a disappointment to Zachary, one he’d never let Shane forget. Not even when he’d graduated summa cum laude from Yale with an MBA and a minor in economics. And his father hadn’t paid for Shane’s education.

  Instead, Shane had taken loans and worked his way through college, determined to live life on his own terms, preferring to bury himself in academia rather than legal briefs or corporate mergers. He enjoyed teaching students and watching them succeed. Earning tenure would be the final step he needed to ensure the future he was working toward.

  Succeeding was important to him and not to prove something to his old man, with whom he had no relationship to speak of. He had a goal and he was determined to reach it. Tenure and job security meant everything to him, and he’d nearly had his dreams derailed thanks to a student who reported him for coming on to her when he’d been an adjunct professor at another school.

  Not only hadn’t Shane made a pass at her, she’d approached him in his office, practically stripping before he could stop her. He’d turned her down. Not only because of the no-student-teacher-fraternization policy but because he’d had no interest in the younger girl. Even after he’d been proven innocent thanks to another student, who’d done the right thing and told the truth about her friend’s retaliatory behavior, the incident had left a bad taste in his mouth for how his fellow professors had treated him during the scandal. They’d ostracized him until he’d been exonerated. He didn’t need colleagues like that.

  Seeking a new start, he’d come to Linton when a friend here told him of a job opening, and he hadn’t regretted the move. Though he'd dated on occasion — he was a normal man, after all — he’d always been careful to choose women who weren’t involved with the school. Women who were busy with their own careers and weren’t looking for a man who would shower them with attention. Shane didn’t have much time to give. Still, it had been awhile since he’d been with anyone, his paper and his teaching taking up all of his time.

  Hell, he hadn’t thought of a woman that way … until bumping into Amber. And as he watched her go, he couldn’t help but be filled with regret for letting her leave without any way of getting in touch with her again.

  * * * *

  Amber woke up, her stomach a jumble of nerves, as she readied herself for her first college class in ten years. She dressed in jeans and a pair of sandals, a silk sleeveless top with decorative roses completing the outfit. Drawing a deep breath, she ate her oatmeal and downed much-needed caffeine before walking over to her backpack, where she rechecked that she had everything she needed.

  Instead of the used laptop her mother could barely afford like she’d had the first time, she now packed the top-of-the-line laptop the guys in New York had bought her and insisted she couldn’t return, along with a notebook because she was still a handwritten note taker at heart, pens … and courage. She needed a big heap of that.

  She’d spent the weekend unpacking the most necessary boxes and trying to start making this new house her home, beginning with pictures of L.J. and his dad, along with those of Landon, Tyler, and Jason holding L.J. as a baby. Her mind often went to the man with whom she’d shared a meal
and the new feelings he’d inspired.

  Those enlightening sensations in her body had her thinking that maybe Layla was right and she should use her time alone this summer to put her toe back into the dating pool. She didn’t think she was ready for the new world of online apps and swipe right or left, but a man she met the old-fashioned way? While walking on campus?

  She wished she’d had the courage to ask for Shane’s phone number. Maybe if she ran into him again she’d suggest they go for pizza. Her treat this time.

  As she was about to walk out the door, her phone chimed, indicating her FaceTime was trying to reach her. She pulled the phone from her bag and answered, happy to see L.J.’s smiling face.

  “Hi, Mom!”

  “Hi, sweetie! How are you?” she asked, picking up her keys from the counter and swinging her pack over one shoulder.

  “I’m good! I just wanted to wish you good luck. Grandma reminded me you had your first class today.”

  She laughed as she stepped out into the heat of the summer morning and locked up behind her, keeping her eye on her son’s face. “What are you up to today?”

  Glancing down the street, she followed the directions she’d looked up this morning, more certain she had the right way this time.

  “We’re going to the Empire State Building!” He let out a loud cheer and she laughed.

  Samuel called for him from another room. “Gotta go, Mom.”

  “Bye, honey. Love you.”

  “Love you, too!” He disconnected them and the screen went blank.

  She rushed along the path to her classroom, and as she came closer, she looked around and was forced to accept the one thing she’d avoided thinking about while going through the enrollment process and making the choice to return to school. That she would be significantly older than everyone around her.

  Now, as she took in the girls in their cropped tops and tight denim shorts, frayed at the edges, she came face-to-face with reality. She was out of place and didn’t belong here. Making friends would be nearly impossible. Swallowing over the lump in her throat, she pushed any negative thoughts aside. She was here to create a better life for herself and her son, not make friends her own age.

  Today’s class was an intro to economics, something she needed for the business minor she desired. Unfortunately she struggled with math classes and didn’t expect even the most basic to be simple or easy.

  She arrived at the classroom and walked inside the big lecture hall. Despite the fact that it was summer session, an intro class obviously pulled in a large number of students. She chose a seat in the middle, not too far up front but not in the way back, either. People filled up the seats around her.

  Reaching into her backpack, she pulled out her notebook and pen. She’d take out her computer if she felt the need later on. She could sense the minute the professor walked into the room because a hush descended and the chatter stopped.

  She opened to a fresh page and glanced at the front of the room just as the professor strode up to the podium, freezing at the sight of Shane standing in front of the classroom. She’d never looked at her professors’ names, knowing they wouldn’t mean anything to her. And in the rush of moving in and unpacking, she hadn’t had time to pay attention to little details.

  Hands on the podium, he cleared his throat and began to introduce himself. It had never dawned on her that he might be a professor at the school, although it probably should have. To her, he’d been a hot guy she’d met on her walk to get dinner.

  She glanced up, taking in his professor look and demeanor. He was more serious and buttoned up than he’d been the other night, wearing a white collared shirt and a dark sport jacket over a pair of dress slacks. He appealed to her on a visceral level, looking sexy yet smart, his hair combed neatly back, his expression serious as his gaze scanned the class.

  She realized the moment he recognized her, his eyes opening wide. She hesitated, then raised her hand in a small wave only to have him school his features into one of bland disinterest. Her stomach twisted in embarrassment, and she lowered her arm and studied the blank page in front of her.

  Thanks to the wash of humiliation, she found it hard to pay attention at first, and by the time she’d recovered, he was asking questions and calling on students.

  Too late, she realized there’d been an assignment, and if she’d logged on and checked her emails, she’d have known. Already behind, she fidgeted in her chair and tried to keep up. But as he went over the basic definition of economic theory, opportunity cost is the value of the next highest value substitute use of that resource, she knew she was in trouble. Math confused her. This completely bewildered her.

  She swallowed hard and prayed he wouldn’t call on her. He’d been jumping around on his class list, not going alphabetically, and at some point, she would be up. Another five minutes dragged by, with her scribbling down notes she didn’t understand.

  “What is the definition of microeconomics?” he asked. “Ms. Davis?”

  She glanced up and slowly raised her hand to let him know where she was sitting. Although he might have already guessed by her first name if there were no other Ambers in the room.

  “Umm … I’m not sure. I didn’t realize there was an assignment for the first day.” Her cheeks flamed with mortification.

  He narrowed his gaze. “Microeconomics focuses on how individual consumers and firms make decisions, such as how they respond to changes in price. Now, this class might be an introductory one but it isn’t a joke. If anyone thinks otherwise, you can visit the registrar and drop the course.” After that reprimand, which she took as aimed at her, he moved on to other items on his agenda to discuss for today.

  Upset with how her first day had gone and embarrassed that she’d come across as uncaring and disrespectful to her professor – to Shane – she couldn’t wait for the class to end. Of course, the minutes dragged, until finally he ended the session.

  “The syllabus and my office hours are in the email I sent,” he reminded them, his gaze landing briefly on hers. “See you on Wednesday.”

  She swallowed hard and collected her things, aware of the rustle of noise around her as the other students did the same and rushed out of the room.

  She wondered if she owed him an apology or explanation or if she should just show up better prepared next time. Not that the subject matter would lend itself toward her understanding it easily.

  Lost in thought, she zipped up her backpack and rose to her feet, stepping into the aisle and bumping into…

  “Shane. I mean Professor Warden.” She stumbled over how to greet him. “I wasn’t watching where I was going. Again.”

  “It seems to be a theme,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

  She glanced around the room, noting they were alone. “I haven’t been to class in ten years. I just moved here from Florida this weekend, and I sent my son off with his grandparents for the first time. I should have checked my emails. I thought I was prepared and I wasn’t. Math really isn’t my thing, and this is all confusing but it won’t happen again,” she said, knowing she was rambling, repeating things he already knew about her in her rush to make him understand.

  “Amber, relax.” His hand came to rest on her shoulder, and she felt the heat straight through to her core. Her gaze flew to his, and she caught the flare of heat in his chocolate eyes before he removed his hand and banked the fire so quickly she thought she’d imagined it.

  She breathed in deep and inhaled the now familiar scent of his cologne, which struck a chord inside her and made her even more aware of him as a man and not the teacher in charge of her class.

  “It’s a difficult class. You can always drop it now and take it in August when you’ve had more time to settle in,” he said.

  She shook her head, refusing to back down from something just because it was challenging. “I can do it … or are you trying to get me out of your class?”

  The idea dawned on her and wouldn’t let go. As awkward as she felt, maybe
he was equally uncomfortable. Because he’d enjoyed having dinner with her, too?

  Meeting his gaze, she waited for his reply.

  * * * *

  Shane knew he’d been an ass, first ignoring her wave, then calling on her when he knew she was as thrown as he was by finding out he was the professor of her class. The look of shock on her face said it all. In his attempt to convince himself he could handle having her as a student, he’d been harder on her than he normally would have been on day one.

  “No, I’m not trying to get rid of you,” he semi-lied. No doubt it would be easier for him if he didn’t have to look into those pretty blue eyes every day or hide his obvious attraction to her behind the podium. “I just thought maybe, given everything going on in your life at the moment, postponing a difficult class might be in your best interest.”

  She straightened her shoulders, and his gaze was drawn to the swell of her breasts beneath her colorful top.

  “No. I made a mistake but it won’t happen again.”

  “Okay,” he said, admiring her determination. “We’ll see if you can handle the work.”

  She tipped her head to the side, taking a step closer to him. So close he inhaled her citrusy scent and his cock grew hard.

  “Just like we’ll see if you can handle having me in your class.” She pinned him with a knowing gaze, clearly having decided she had him off-kilter.

  She was right.

  He blew out a long breath. If he’d had second thoughts about not getting her phone number, those had ended the minute he’d laid eyes on her in his classroom. Ironically he now had access to her phone via his students’ information list.

  “I just thought we could get a slice of pizza or something. Get to know each other better.” Those blue eyes studied him with definite interest.

  Interest he reciprocated, and he swallowed hard, tempted beyond belief to take her up on her offer. But the past, propriety, and common sense prevented him from acting on what he wanted. No way would he have a relationship with a student. Not even one obviously close to his own age.