by Maisey Yates
***
Sarah swallowed hard pressing her hands flat on the desk. She knew exactly what he was talking about, because she was on that journey too. Because she lived in the same town, in the same house, that she’d always lived in. Because she had aged, but her life had felt so much the same.
Like being stuck in mud, unable to move forward. So yeah, she was well acquainted with those issues. And that was lame, because she didn’t want to find a point of connection with him. Already, being near him was making her insides feel all shaken up and funny. She’d already experienced that overwhelming desire to cling to him. To hold him. To have him rattle the headboard in the modest home she grew up in.
Ahem.
She didn’t need to find things in common with him.
“I appreciate your telling me,” she said, keeping her voice as neutral as possible. “It will be helpful going forward.”
“How is she in class?”
“Quiet, but she’s very sweet. You’re doing a good job with her, Walker,” she said. She regretted saying his name almost immediately. It left a funny feeling on her tongue, her lips. Somehow, it conjured up the way he tasted. Left his flavor lingering.
Or maybe it had been lingering for the past week and a half.
“Appreciated.”
“And . . . and . . .” she said, feeling her face turn red even as she formulated the sentence. She had to say it though. Had to make sure he didn’t do anything to compromise her position at the school. “I need . . . I need for no one to know that we’ve . . . met before.”
He arched a dark brow. “That we’ve met? We’ve done more than that.”
He stood up, and she found herself eye-level with his . . . yeah. That. She stood too. “Yes,” she said, keeping her voice even. “I know we have. But there’s no place in my life for that kind of thing right now and . . .”
“Are you really brushing me off? As if I have . . . tons of vacant space in my life? I wanted a fuck, babe, that’s it, and I got it. There’s no reason to talk about it again.”
His language, the hard words, were so incongruous in her bright, cheery classroom covered in construction paper and glitter that she would have laughed if they hadn’t cut so deep.
“Well,” she said, biting the inside of her cheek, knowing her face was bright red, hoping he didn’t notice the stupid, useless tears that had welled up in her eyes, “good, because I don’t want to talk about it. And I don’t want you to talk about it to anyone. So . . . I’m glad we’re on the same page.”
“Good.”
“Good. So . . . I won’t see you probably because . . . I don’t stay out there for the whole parent line and you’ll be on time from now on. Two thirty.”
“Two thirty.” He tipped his hat and walked out the door.
Sarah folded into her chair. “Oh . . . oh no.” Her stomach hurt. All because he’d said that word to talk about what they’d done. Because he’d said it was all he wanted. It was supposed to be all that she wanted. What was wrong with her? She was such a stupid virgin.
And she didn’t have time to worry about her own drama. Walker had drama. Kayla . . . poor Kayla had drama. She knew what it was like to lose your mother. Her mother had walked away too. And Sarah didn’t know what had happened to her.
Sarah knew what it was like to be that little girl. To be so lost and sad. To miss someone you could hardly remember. Someone who maybe didn’t even deserve for you to miss them.
That was going to be her focus then: Kayla. Because she was a teacher, and a darn good one. It was what she did and it was who she was. She was not going to let her feelings about Walker affect that.
She planted her hands firmly on the table and pushed herself up. No, she was not going to let this affect her. So she’d had a one-night stand and she was going to have to deal with said one-night stand for a while. Big deal. She was a woman. She could handle it.
She had nothing to be ashamed of and no reason to regret the orgasm he’d given her.
She’d wanted to grow up a little. So now she was going to have to act like a grown-up.
***
Walker was running late, because the damn nanny interview had run late, and in the end it hadn’t even mattered, because this woman hadn’t been able to start when he needed her to, and he hadn’t liked her very much anyway.
This was what he got for not arranging a nanny before coming to Silver Creek. This was what he got for having to work all the time to get his ranch up and running when he should have been spending time with his daughter.
This was what he got for being such a lousy husband he hadn’t been able to keep his wife around. So she’d left, and as a result had been driving on an icy road in Houston too quickly.
Yeah, so this was what he got. For failing at everything. At least, that’s what it felt like he was doing.
He left the truck running in the school parking lot and headed toward the kindergarten class, ready to get banshee-screamed at by Miss Prim and Ginger.
He opened the door and stopped when he saw Kayla sitting at her desk, her head bowed low. Her shoulders were shaking. And Sarah was crouched down next to her, her hand over her arm.
“I’m sorry. It was the . . . the nanny and the snow and . . .” And he was drowning here.
Sarah stood up and shot him a steely glare. “We’re glad you’re here. Kayla was worried.”
His daughter jumped up from her desk and flung herself at him, her arms wrapped around his waist. “I thought you died,” she said, her voice thick.
“Oh, no.” He put his hand on her back, held her close, guilt tearing at him. “No, honey, I should have called.”
“It’s just that you said you wouldn’t be late again. You promised.”
He was shit at promises too. He should just add that to the list. “I’m sorry, baby girl. Some things happened. I should have called, but when I realized”—he looked up at Sarah—“I just wanted to get here.”
“It’s okay,” Sarah said, the fight draining out of her. “Just a second and I’ll walk you out.”
She grabbed her coat from the peg by her desk and put it on. It was a strange coat. Floral and square. Both old-fashioned and a little bit ill-fitting. But then, that seemed to be Sarah. Unless she was picking up a stranger at a bar, going back to his room with him and holding on to the headboard while straddling his face. That was less old-fashioned. And a memory he did not need right now, thank you very much, horny subconscious.
His body hadn’t appreciated its reintroduction to celibacy this past couple of weeks. It was like a horse resigned to its fate, then let out of the gate to run for just a little bit. Reminded of how good it could feel. Then put back in a tiny stall.
He felt like a douche worrying about his dick while he’d made a huge parenting mistake, but then, he was a man, and he was always worried about that part of his body. At least, now that he’d been reminded he was a man and not a gelding.
The truck was still idling, the heater on so it would be a comfortable temperature for Kayla. He opened the door to his truck and Kayla got in, climbing into the backseat and into her booster. He shut the door and turned to face Sarah.
“Lecture coming?” he asked.
“No. Actually, I was wondering if there was something I could do to help.” The cold air was making her cheeks pink; the tip of her nose too. And her lips looked redder. The cold had a similar effect on her skin as arousal, and he found it pretty damn interesting.
“You want to help?”
She shifted in the snow, crossing her arms. “Well, yes. Look, I would offer this to anyone in your situation, and I feel like not offering it to you just because we had a bit of a . . . rocky start isn’t right. I’m a teacher first, and for me that transcends the classroom when necessary. Kayla is a sweet girl, but . . . fragile.”
“Yeah. Obviously.” And he wasn’t good with fragile things. Sarah didn’t have to say it for him to know it was true.
“I want her to have the extra support sh
e needs over the winter holiday.”
“So do I. That’s why I’ve been searching for a nanny, but I don’t have one. I’ve been overusing my housekeeper, but it’s not what she does, and I knew that I was really asking too much during the holiday when she wants to head back home for a bit to be with her own family.”
“So you need someone to watch her during the day.”
“Only for a few hours while I’m working. I’m on the property, but I won’t leave her in the house by herself. And I can’t bring her with me for a whole day when it’s this cold. It’s a recipe for a sick and crabby kid. Plus she’d be miserable.”
“And ranch work doesn’t wait. I wasn’t raised on a ranch, but I do know how that goes.”
“So what exactly are you offering me here?”
“Temporary nannying. I can keep her busy and this will give her some consistency on top of it. She knows me, and she feels comfortable with me. And . . . and you won’t be there.”
He leaned against the truck. “Important to you.”
“I’m not a glutton for punishment. Frankly, I’m not a glutton for much. I think you have the wrong idea about me.”
He could have laughed. There was no way he had the wrong idea about her. She had to be nearing thirty, and he knew for a fact she’d been a virgin. Yet she seemed to be under the impression he believed she was some kind of town tramp.
He knew exactly what she was.
Trouble. She was sweet, heart and soul, and she was the kind of woman who deserved to be offered forever. And he only had that one night to give instead. A damn sorry thing.
“I don’t think I do, Red,” he said.
“Sarah. Better still, Miss Larsen will do.”
Miss Larsen. Well hell. That made him hard instantly. He could picture calling her that in bed. Miss Larsen. He wasn’t the kind of man who did the taking-orders thing, but he could get on board with asking permission from Miss Larsen.
He was a sick puppy. And he was in no position to indulge it. He needed her help, not her body.
“Well, Miss Larsen,” he said, trying to will his hard-on into submission even as he said it, “I’m in no position to turn down an offer of help. If you can give it, I’m going to take it. And I’ll pay you a fair wage, I promise.”
That statement felt a lot more layered, a lot more dangerous, than he’d intended.
If she blushed, he couldn’t see it. Her cheeks were too red from the cold. And it was just as well. His body didn’t need any more encouragement.
“I trust you. Shall we plan on Monday?”
“Works for me.”
“What time?”
“Sometime after eight is fine. Laurie is still around for part of the week, and she won’t mind feeding Kayla breakfast.”
“Great,” she said, and he was sure her enthusiasm was fake as Astroturf. “I’ll see you then.”
“Yep.” He tipped his hat and watched her face closely. The cold was still keeping him from seeing a blush. Dammit. He wanted her to blush.
She took a step away from the truck. “So. Yes. See you. Then.”
Yes, he would. And he could only hope he had better luck with keeping his body under control by then. If not, he was going to be spending Christmas with his balls on ice.
***
Sarah screwed up her face and got out of the car, scrunching even more when the cold, dry air hit her straight on. It was eight a.m., the first Monday of winter break, and she was at Walker’s ranch just outside of town with a bag full of activities for Kayla.
She was dressed warmly for the weather, and in a pair of floral granny panties for her own protection. Because Walker had magic panty-removing powers, and if she wasn’t careful, she’d end up with them stripped off again.
As if he wants to . . .
Well, yeah, there was that. Because she’d run like a cat being chased with a hose. It wasn’t like she’d stuck around to get his take on it. There had been no “Oh, baby, that was the best I’ve ever had.” Not that she was expecting that. She would have been happy with a “Pretty good for your first time.”
But for all she knew, it had been bland boring meh to him. Certainly not world-rocking or earth-shattering like it had been for her.
Still, the granny panties were on, which meant he wasn’t getting any of her clothes off. Because, please. How embarrassing.
She blew out a breath and watched it linger in the air before heading up the steps and onto the porch, ringing the bell and bouncing up and down a bit before the door opened. It wasn’t Walker. And that sharp, punched feeling in her stomach wasn’t disappointment. No. It was just an adrenaline explosion or something, because she’d been prepared to deal with him again.
It was a middle-aged woman who smiled and invited her in. “I’m Laurie,” she said, taking Sarah’s coat. “The housekeeper.”
“I’m Sarah. I’m Kayla’s teacher. I don’t know if Walker explained things to you or—”
“Mr. Callahan gave me a brief overview of the situation. I’m glad you agreed to help him. He really needs it.”
Mr. Callahan. Of course. She ought to call him that. Not Walker. It was far too telling.
“Oh . . . good. Have you been with the family for long?”
“Since his wife left.”
Sarah nodded slowly. “Well, it’s nice that Kayla has you. Nice that you came with them.”
“My family doesn’t live in Texas anymore anyway. A plane ride is a plane ride. Besides, they’re a part of my family.”
“I’m glad they have you.”
Laurie smiled. “I’m glad they have you for the time being. I don’t mind taking care of Kayla for a while, but I do have a lot of household chores to see to, and I can’t exactly keep her entertained.”
“I understand.”
“She’s just in here, having breakfast.”
Sarah walked into the cozy kitchen and saw Kayla sitting on a bench at the little breakfast nook, eating pancakes. When she saw Sarah, her eyes lit up and she smiled. “Miss Larsen! My dad said you were coming today. I didn’t know if you would.”
Sarah’s heart did a little flip. This poor girl. She’d been let down so many times already. It made her hurt. Well, for her part, she wouldn’t let her down. She would spend this time with her. Make her feel valued.
“All right, Kayla,” Sarah said, sitting down, “what do you want to do today?”
Chapter Six
Sarah managed to go two days at the Callahan ranch without seeing Walker. She was in before he left and out before he got back, thanks to Laurie.
But by the third day, Laurie was getting ready for her trip and was at her little house on the property packing instead of coming back to relieve Sarah at dinnertime¸ which meant she had no choice but to wait for him to come home.
She sat down at the dinner table with Kayla, their plates already piled with chicken, potatoes and green beans. “Is your dad usually late for dinner?” she asked, looking out into the blackness.
She was hungry, but she’d been planning on skipping out so she didn’t end up intersecting Walker’s meal and causing any awkwardness. But now it was getting to where it would be more awkward if she didn’t eat. Also, obvious.
“Sometimes.” Kayla shrugged a shoulder and took a bite of her potatoes. “But he doesn’t like me to wait until my dinner is cold.”
“Okay.” Taking a cue from Kayla, Sarah took a bite too.
Just then, right when she was wholly committed to dinner and unable to back out, the front door opened and she felt a rush of air come through the short hallway and into the dining room.
Darn it all to heck!
“Laurie? Kayla? I’m home.” She heard boots stomping on the rug, probably getting rid of caked-on snow and mud, then the door shutting, and heavy footfalls on the wooden floor.
Kayla jumped up and ran out of the room. “Daddy!”
The whole thing made Sarah’s heart feel suspiciously tight. And when Walker came in holding Kayla’s hand, she tho
ught her ovaries would explode.
God bless her granny panties. For they would steer her clear of temptation and lead her not into Walker’s bed.
“Sarah,” he said, pausing. “Miss Larsen. I didn’t expect you to be here.”
“Yes, well . . . Laurie had to pack. So . . . so since she’s leaving tomorrow to go and visit her children probably this will be . . . normal.”
Except nothing felt normal. She felt all sweaty. And her lips were tingling.
He took a plate out of the cupboard and sat down at the head of the table, serving himself. And she suddenly felt extremely out of place.
“I should probably go,” she said.
“No,” he said. “It looks like you took one bite of your dinner. You should finish it.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Sure you are,” he said, his eyes never leaving hers. “And unfinished . . . dinner is about the worst thing I can think of.”
“Unfinished dinner?”
“Sure. You sit down to eat and you want to enjoy it. Sit for a while after. Maybe have dessert.”
“Yes, well, sometimes a bite is enough.”
He arched a dark brow and took a bite of potatoes, savoring it with far too much . . . carnal enjoyment for her liking. “Not of something this good.”
“Too much of a good thing is never . . . good. These potatoes for example, are amazing. But butter filled.”
“And?”
“And butter isn’t good for you. It just tastes great. But it . . . makes you . . .” She looked at Kayla, who was looking at her. “It’s bad for your heart.” Which was too close to what she was afraid they might actually be talking about for her own comfort. But she didn’t want to talk about things making you fat in front of a little girl either.
“Fair enough,” he said, taking another bite of the potatoes. “But you should still stay and finish dinner.”
A challenge. And she didn’t want to back down. Because she felt like she should have transcended childish fear and angst. Like she should be past that, because she was supposed to be different. Not because she’d had sex, but because something in her had changed enough to decide she wanted to have sex. To decide she wasn’t going to live only to please other people and to meet their expectations.
