Giving In to You

by L. M. Carr

  We pick up salads for a late lunch and spend a few hours down by the lake sun tanning, enjoying the last days of freedom. I don’t mention anything about Adam because there’s really nothing to tell. I stretch out on the blanket, soaking up some vitamin D.

  I walk along the beach alone, tossing rocks into the lake when I feel his eyes on me. I look up to see Adam standing chest deep in the clear water, his eyes beckon me to follow him. I look around for Shelby, but she’s gone. The beach is deserted; Adam and I are the two solitary occupants. Behind him, the sun smiles and sets beneath the horizon of the lake, promising to return tomorrow. Adam steps back further into the water, concealing his luscious mouth and hard body, yet his dark, mesmerizing eyes still summon me to come closer. I want to run to him and wrap my arms around his neck and squeeze him tightly between my legs. I want to feel that body against mine.

  “Mia, c’mon. It’s time,” his sultry voice calls to me.

  I smile seductively and whisper, “Yes, Adam. I’m coming.”

  Just as my toes sink into the cool sand, taking small steps towards him, my body freezes and tenses; ice flows in my veins.

  “Mia...it’s time to go, babe.” His voice is softer this time, sweeter even. My tired eyes flutter, adjusting to the yellow and orange glow of the sun and I see Shelby standing above me. “Seriously, wake up! We have to go.”

  My body thrusts upward into a sitting position, panting heavily as I search the calm water for a pair of chocolate brown eyes. This man invades my thoughts and now my dreams. Shelby folds her beach towel and starts to pack up her bag. The look on her face is doubtful as she asks if I’m alright; her last question confounds me.

  “Mia?”

  “What?” I ask, packing my bag.

  “Who’s Adam?”

  THE FIRST DAY OF school is nerve wracking for teachers and students alike. Even teachers get butterflies the night before. It usually goes pretty well; thankfully there aren’t too many tears in the second grade. Day one is all about getting to know each other so my goals are simple: get to know the kids’ names, feed them lunch, and get them home safely to their parents.

  This year I have nineteen students in my class. I’ve known most of the kids since they were babies or even in their mama’s bellies. One of the six new students to our school is Madison Lawson, a quiet, little, dark-haired beauty. I quickly learn that she likes to be called Maddie and that she moved here over the summer with her dad and her twin brother, Luke. Tears well up in her eyes when Becca, one of the other girls in the class, asks about where her mom is. Very stoically, she responds, “She’s in Heaven.” How sad! My heart splinters into pieces for this little girl. I offer a smile and diffuse the awkward situation, reassuring Madison that I’m excited to have her in my class and promise that she’s going to have a great year.

  Dismissal time rolls around before I know it. I separate my class by dismissal procedure: students who are picked up by their parents stay with me, bus kids go with Shelby. I’m not looking forward to the long line of parents waiting to claim their children at the end of the day. I volunteer for this afterschool position because lots of teachers need to rush home to their families and take their kids to dance lessons or soccer practice. I don’t have to rush off to be anywhere. No one is waiting on me.

  Part of my job is to monitor and call children who wait anxiously to be picked up. This is the worst part of the day because parents love to gossip as they wait in line. Being the professional that I am, I ignore the chatter and snickering that I hear and just smile, welcoming all the beautiful, fit, stay-at-home moms picking up their children. But when Mrs. Cummings comes in with her newest little one, I drop everything and cradle the sweet baby girl, named Hannah, in my arms. I nuzzle her neck because babies smell so good; it’s the smell of goodness and innocence rolled into one. Goofy baby talk and exaggerated smiles pour out of my mouth until the baby starts to fuss so I hand her back immediately, thanking her mom for the opportunity to hold her.

  I glance at my watch. I hate when parents are late to pick up their kids. With a huff of annoyance, I’m relieved that the line is dwindling down slowly, only a few children remain. Why don’t they just take advantage of the public school transportation that’s offered? The rolling of the custodian’s cart draws my attention and as I turn back to the line of parents, I’m stunned when I come face to face with Adam who steps up the table with a look of delight on his breathtaking face.

  I swallow hard. “May I help you?” A look of confusion mars my face, wondering why he’s waiting in the line with parents who are there to pick up their children. Dressed in an expensive charcoal grey business suit, crisp white shirt with a loosened light blue and silver tie, he leans forward to sign his name on the line twice. He’s a lefty.

  A kid? He has kids? He’s married? But I didn’t see a ring? Oh. My. God. How embarrassing! What a major douche bag! I want to slap him or kick him in the balls for being so forward with me at the park. I wonder if his wife knows what an asshole he is.

  “Good afternoon, Mrs. Matthews.” He grins, his eyes flashing up beneath long lashes. I momentarily lose the ability to think rationally or speak when he looks at me. “Um…good afternoon,” is all I can manage to squeak out. Before I call out the names of the children he’s been given permission to take, I ask for some form of identification because I don’t recognize him as a parent.

  “Sure,” he responds, reaching into his back pocket for his wallet.

  “Here you go.” He starts to hand me his license but doesn’t let go right away. I look at him as he waits for me to take it since both our fingers have an edge of the license. He wants to play a game; I can be patient. After a few seconds, I release my hold and turn my hand so my palm is facing upward. I look like a parent demanding something from her child. He smirks and places the rectangular card in my hand. When I look at his license, I notice just two things. The first is that it’s from the state of New York and the second thing is that even in the generic DMV photo, he’s insanely gorgeous. Figures!

  “Thank you.” I smile as I hand back his ID. “Just so you know, it’s standard protocol for new students. School safety and security measures are strictly enforced since…” I realize I’m starting to ramble. I tend to ramble when I get nervous. The sound of throats clearing tell me that the two parents behind Adam are growing impatient.

  I look down at my list and call out the names of the children he’s picking up. “Madison? Luke? Your…” I hesitate because I’m not sure what to call him. Dad? Uncle? Brother?

  “Father,” he answers my unspoken thought. “I’m their father.” His eyes look directly at me. Holy DILF! His daughter is the new student in my class! Oh, crap! How will I ever stand to see him all the time?

  My cheeks flame when the children jump up to greet him. The smile on his face is genuine and loving as he scoops them up, one in each arm, kissing them. “How was your first day of school?” He listens intently as they each answer him with “Good” or “It was fun. I made a new friend…” Their words fade as they walk toward the door, but just before Adam is out of view, he looks back over his shoulder and catches me staring. What does he do? He smiles like he’s got a giant freaking secret.

  Every afternoon that week, I find myself eager to get to my dismissal post so I can shamelessly gawk at him. I mean, it is part of my job to look at parents and to talk to them, right? I try to be inconspicuous as I watch what we like to call the “Pretty Committee” moms dote on Adam, offering to set up play dates. Hmmm…I wonder if they mean for the kids or for themselves. I wonder what their husbands would think of their generous offers. One mom hands him a business card for her gym, telling him that she’d love to train him. Train him or fuck him? Really, people? Have a little self-respect! I can’t help but laugh at their desperate attempts to get his attention.

  Unfortunately, Gina, dressed to the nines, is always there to pick up her daughter, too. Jealousy hits me like a ton of bricks when she and Adam walk in together, talki
ng intimately. How can they be so friendly? I watch as her fingers reach up and brush off his shoulder. I’ve seen that move a million times; I doubt he has anything on his shoulder anyway. His smile is warm and genuine, playful even. It’s a smile one would give to a lover. That’s it! It has to be! She’s probably sleeping with him—it’s what she does best.

  From what Madison has told me, they just moved to town over the summer. Of course, Gina would be the head cheerleader of the welcoming committee. I’m sure she’s giving him a lot more than just a tour of our charming little town.

  “You know, if you want, I could just start picking up the kids every Thursday. What do you think?” I overhear Gina ask Adam, who is intentionally staring at me, his brow is slightly furrowed. He doesn’t respond. She must notice his inattentiveness because she follows his line of sight and meets my eyes. Her blue eyes narrow, shooting her notorious death glare at me. I simply look back at him, no smile, no kind gesture. Nada.

  “So what do you think?” she asks as he signs his name twice. “Sure,” he responds, never taking his eyes off me.

  “Hello.” Adam smiles at me, his face softening. What a douche nozzle! He’s seriously got to be the biggest asshole to stare at me while his lover looks on. Like Gina needs another reason to hate me.

  “Hello,” I answer back with a small smile of my own, before he moves along to gather his children.

  All week, Gina’s glares get longer and stronger every single day. The hardest thing to understand is why she hates me so much. I never did anything to her. I’m not the one who took something that I had no right to, shattering her heart into a million pieces. It’s not possible; you’d have to have a heart to shatter and she is a heartless bitch.

  “I can’t believe you just did that?” I shriek and wipe off the chocolate frosting she smeared on my face. I want to cry as I look down at my ruined halter dress that’s covered in icing.

  “Oh God! Can’t you take a joke? I was just kidding.” She glances around nervously at our families who’ve gathered for our high school graduation party.

  “Gina!” Uncle Carl yells, snatching her up by the arm as my mother rushes over with a damp cloth.

  “What? God, all you guys think she’s so fucking perfect.”

  “Watch your language,” my father warns sternly.

  “Whatever,” Gina’s blonde hair whips around as she pushes her way through the crowd, bumping shoulders with Josh.

  ***

  BY FRIDAY AFTERNOON of the following week, I’m eager to pack up my things for the long Labor Day weekend and am looking forward to the annual cookout at Shelby and Mike’s place. I sit on the edge of my desk and tap out a list on my phone of what I need to get for the BBQ when a quiet knock at the door interrupts my thoughts, causing me to look up.

  Standing there in the doorway is Adam, dressed casually in jeans and a white button down shirt, now sporting a sexy beard with a puzzled look on his face. This guy must be really indecisive with things. One week his face is almost completely clean shaven with just a hint of a five o’clock shadow. The next week, he seems to let his beard grow in shielding his strong jaw. Beard. No beard. Make up your mind already. But the reality is that he looks gorgeous either way. I shake my head and smile when I realize that he’s not alone; he’s holding the hands of Madison and Luke, the little boy that I recognize as one of Shelby’s students.

  “Hi, Mrs. Matthews,” Adam saunters in slowly, a wary look on his handsome face. “I’m sorry to interrupt, but my boy, Luke, forgot something in his desk.” Mrs. Matthews? Why would he think I’m Mrs. Matthews? I rack my brain for a clue and then I remember. Ah, yes! The name plate. He must’ve seen it on Shelby’s door. I remember now that he called me Mrs. Matthews the first day of school.

  The confused look written across my face is mistaken for annoyance because with a tentative look on his face, he asks, “Would you mind if he grabbed it? The kids are going to their grandparents’ house for the long weekend.” His eyes bore into mine like he’s trying to tell me something, like he’s trying to send a message. My telepathic receiver must be broken because I don’t get it.

  A giggle erupts from Madison as she looks up at her father. “What are you giggling about, silly girl?” he asks sincerely, smiling down at his daughter.

  “Daddy, this is my class!”

  I can’t contain the smug smile on my face as Adam realizes his mistake. It’s an honest mistake since there’s only a foot between our classroom doors and I was standing in Shelby’s room when he walked in.

  “Wait, what?” he asks, his eyes darting back and forth between his daughter and me. “Seriously?” Adam turns quickly to the doorway, steps out and looks at Shelby’s door before turning his eyes back to me. Slowly, he walks back, contemplating his words.

  I step forward, extending my hand to greet him. “Hello, Mr. Lawson. I’m Miss Delaney, Madison’s teacher.” His mouth presses into a hard line trying desperately to hold his laugh in, but it doesn’t work. His laugh is just about as sexy as the rest of him.

  “Wait, let me get this straight. You’re not Mrs. Matthews? You’re not Luke’s teacher?” He waits for a response.

  I simply shake my head. “No, I’m not.”

  His voice drops to a whisper, “You’re not married?” What an odd question to ask!

  “Dad, seriously?” asks Luke, already heading to the door.

  Adam grins uncomfortably and just stares at me. “Okay, then. Now that that’s cleared up.” He claps his hands together and ushers his children out. Just as he starts to walk out, he looks back over his shoulder and grins at me, shaking his head in disbelief or perhaps relief. Of which, I’m not so sure.

  I smile back at him. My cheeks flush with amusement. Blood flows quickly through my veins causing things that should not throb at work to throb.

  I finish my list and text my brother before tossing my cell phone into my work bag, and proceed to follow them out, watching them enter Shelby’s classroom. I hear the conversation as Adam briefly explains to the custodian why he’s there. I should probably stand in the doorway since Shelby left early for an appointment, but I convince myself that it’s fine and start to walk away. What’s he going to steal? Expo markers?

  As I get ready to turn the corner of the hallway leading out to the door, I hear Adam’s voice. “Go ahead, bud. I’ll be right back.” His deep voice comes closer as he walks with heavy steps in my direction.

  “Excuse me, Miss Delaney.” I turn around to face him and am met with angry, dark eyes. “Why didn’t you tell me who you were?” His voice is stern. He steps closer, walking right into my personal space like he owns the place or has a right to be so close. A little presumptuous, aren’t we? “So let me get this straight. You’re not married and you led me to believe that you were?”

  Is he insane? I never said anything like that! I breathe deeply, slowly preparing my answer and smirk. “Mr. Lawson, I did no such thing. It’s not my fault you made an assumption. You know what they say about people who assume, don’t you?” I’m not really sure why I suddenly feel contentious toward this man. He seems to press my buttons and, oh Lord, I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t mind him pressing some other buttons.

  The last thing I hear before pushing my way through the double doors and climbing into my Jeep is his sexy chuckle and him murmuring, “Nice. Real nice.”

  Wanting to feel every ounce of sunshine, I decide to roll back and secure the convertible top. The parking lot is already empty; everyone trying to get a jump start on the long weekend. My phone alerts me of an incoming text from Shane telling me to have a great weekend and asking if we can get together soon.

  Just as I finish my text to him thanking him for the thought but declining his offer, I see Adam, with a juvenile backpack slung over each shoulder, walk out of the building, hand in hand with his two adorable kids. He looks absolutely ridiculous, yet so sexy, so completely happy, all at the same time. Luke is helped into the back seat first. Then Madison’s high pitche
d squeals of delight make me jump. It’s at that moment that my appreciation for him as a father grows when he scoops up his daughter, tosses her into the air, ending it all with a kiss on her forehead before securing her in the back seat. It’s quite a disparity between this good, loving father and the arrogant man I met a few weeks ago at the park.

  MY SIMPLE PLAN for the night, which included a hot date with my Kindle, is thrown out the window when my college roommate, Kate, calls and invites me out to some new dance club in the city. Even though I am tired and really should just stay in and rest, I catch a two hour nap before rummaging through my cramped closet, looking for something to wear. Ahhhh, yes! Perfect! The short, black dress hugs my body like a glove. Poor Brady whines, knowing he’s on his own tonight.

  Sometimes, it’s hard being a teacher in the same small town in which you live. I don’t want my personal life to get mixed up with my professional life. I am always aware of my behavior outside of the classroom. But I am more than Miss Delaney, second grade teacher and girls’ basketball coach—I am Mia Delaney, a twenty-seven year old, sexy, and single female on the prowl. I know what’s expected of me in my role of responsible teacher, educating America’s future and all that, but I’m going to allow myself this one night to indulge, let go, and have some fun. It’s my one night to be a little reckless and carefree like Kate. There’s a reason she’s earned the nickname Krazy Kate. After all it’s not like I would know anyone there. The whole dance club scene isn’t really my thing, but I’m looking forward to a night out with Kate.