1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Nine

by Carrie Ann Ryan

  “I need a C- in this class or I won’t graduate. I’m doing the best I can. Are you seriously going to flunk me and keep me from my degree over a moth?”

  She stopped and whirled around. Her saggy sweater caught air, flew up, then settled. Her index finger jabbed the air. “Have you ever wondered what death would feel like, Mr. Dunkle? Debated life versus death? Analyzed your life to see if it was empty or just or worthwhile?”

  His head spun. She was like some mad woman, fierce and way too intense over some...words. Yet, that passion connected within him for a few seconds and hit home. “Yes. Don’t we all wonder what we’re doing here?” he muttered.

  “Good. In the beginning of the essay, the moth was joyous, even trapped between the glass with a limited view of the world. Have you ever felt happy, even when you don’t know why?”

  “Yes.”

  “But the author pitied the moth at first. Pitied its existence. The moth is destined to die. What feeling did Woolf try to explain to the reader?”

  He tried to shake off his annoyance at getting into a lesson in the middle of a hallway. “The moth doesn’t want to die and neither does she.”

  “Wrong. Yes, no one wants to die but that’s not the true point of the essay. There’s one guarantee in this life: death. It’s part of the contract terms we get. We don’t even know how much time we’re going to get when we sign this contract. We’re here trying to make our mark, then we’re gone. Don’t you ever consider what the point is?”

  His gut lurched. Her slow pecking at his beliefs bothered him. Why think about all this shit when there was no real answer? Why not keep things easy? Look for happiness in the moment? Like the moth...

  “Sure.”

  “Enough with the one word answers. ‘Just as life had been strange a few minutes before, so death was not as strange.’ What do you think Woolf was feeling when that last paragraph was written? She watched the moth die in front of her, watched its struggle, watched its failure to win the ultimate battle. What do you think about that, Mr. Dunkle?”

  “What do you want me to think?”

  She shook her head. “We’re done here.”

  Frustration simmered and seeped out. “The moth fought death up to the last moment. Its struggle was strange and almost beautiful to the author because we all face the same obstacles, yet no matter how bad life sucks, we still have the ability to fight to our last dying breath. Kind of like Dylan said about raging against the dying light.”

  Surprise flickered across her face. Slowly, she nodded. “Yes. That’s what I’m looking for in your papers. You insult both of us by not giving more.” Then she continued down the hallway.

  Son-of-a-bitch. No, he wasn’t in one of those lame movies where the teacher suddenly got the student to see the light and then he transformed his failing grade into an A. It didn’t work like that. Connor caught up with her, matching her pace, and heard her deep sigh.

  “Do you need something else, Mr. Dunkle?”

  “How about an extra credit project? I can’t base my graduation on me understanding the next few assignments.”

  Her snort was quite feminine and intriguing. She pushed open the double glass doors and headed upstairs. “Why should I give you such an opportunity? If you work hard enough, you should be able to pass my class.”

  “I can’t take any chances. Please. This way, I’ll know I have some cushion for my grade if I keep struggling.”

  Annoyance radiated around her. She reached the top of the steps, and turned to say something, but her boot caught on a piece of metal grating and she fell forward.

  Connor hurriedly blocked her fall, catching her in his arms and pulling her to the side. Her body was soft and warm, and for one moment, he felt her breasts push against his chest. The clean scent of cucumber and soap drifted up to his nostrils. Low maintenance and simple, like the woman. He took a deeper breath, enjoying the natural fragrance and the way her hands closed around his shoulders for balance.

  “You okay?”

  Her dark eyes widened. Behind the thick lenses of her glasses, her gaze locked and held his, squeezing him as tight as her nails suddenly digging into his flesh. A bolt of heat struck his dick, and suddenly, he was hard as a rock.

  WTH?

  “Sorry!” She struggled and he righted her, stepping back. Her skin flushed and she scrambled toward the second level doors. “I’ll think about an appropriate project for extra credit.”

  “Thanks.”

  She didn’t answer, just disappeared behind the glass and got swallowed up by a swarm of students.

  Shaking off the whole strange encounter, Connor headed to the library. He’d won this skirmish. With extra credit, he usually had the whole semester to turn it in and his grade would get a nice boost. As for the sudden attraction? It was proof he’d been way too long without a woman. He wasn’t attracted in the least to Ella Blake. If he was smart, he’d take this Saturday night, go out with a pretty woman, and slake both of their needs.

  He kept the thought firmly in his mind and refused to think of his not hot professor.

  Chapter Five

  “Better to be without logic than without feeling.”—Charlotte Brontë

  A few hours later, Ella was still replaying their encounter.

  She muttered under her breath and hurried through the parking lot, ducking her head against the brisk wind tearing through the trees. She’d had students who were egotistical and arrogant. But Connor Dunkle was a whole new breed. How dare he challenge her in class? His ridiculous views on women were archaic. Lord help his wife or girlfriend. She would’ve taught him a few hard-learned lessons about respect. Then he dared to ask for extra credit?

  The worst part was her traitorous body. When she fell into his arms, her stomach got all floaty, and her blood ran hotter in her veins. She was attracted to an idiot. Why wasn’t she surprised? Her track record sucked.

  Rain dripped down the back of her neck and she shivered. Spring felt a lifetime away. Of course, she’d forgotten her damn umbrella again. She had four in her trunk and never seemed to use any of them.

  The well-lit parking lot cut through the dark and fog, leading to her white Honda Civic. She hit the button, slid into the seat, and turned the key.

  Nothing.

  Dread trickled through her. Oh, no. Please work. Please work. Please...

  Keeping up her mantra, she tried the car again. And again.

  It was dead.

  Ella glanced at her watch. She was already running late and hated leaving Luke alone for too long. Her brain calculated through the possibilities. Triple A? No, she’d decided it was an easy expense to cut. She couldn’t look under the hood because she had no idea what she’d be looking for. Frustration coiled and she pounded her fist on the steering wheel. The word hovered on her lips until she finally spit it out with passion.

  “Fuck!”

  God, she loved that word. Saying it was her secret vice. Even the guttural, nasty sound of it on her tongue eased some of her tension.

  A hard rap on the window caused her to shriek. A huge, muscled figure towered over her car. Peering out in the dark, she lowered her window a few inches.

  “You need some help?”

  Ella almost closed her eyes in defeat. Connor Dunkle. Of course, he’d show up trying to be her knight in shining armor. He’d probably ask her for a few extra points on the next quiz as payment.

  She refused to think of other, more interesting, forms of payment.

  “My car won’t start. I’ll call a tow company. Thanks anyway.”

  A frown creased his brows. “Pop the hood. Let me take a quick look.” She pressed her lips together, considering. “Professor Blake? I’m getting wet out here.”

  She let out an irritated breath at her hesitation. “Sorry.” She was glad the dark hid her hot cheeks. Releasing the latch, he disappeared behind the hood while the rain gained fury and flung drops like a toddler in the throes of a tantrum. Finally, he returned, his thick hair wetly plast
ered to his head.

  “It’s the battery. I have jumper cables in my truck. Hang tight.”

  “Wait! I have an umbrella.”

  His smile was lopsided and full of wry humor. “Don’t need it. I work construction, I’m used to bad weather.”

  “But––”

  He’d already disappeared into the dark. A pair of headlights swung toward her as he angled his truck a few inches away from her car. She watched while he set up the cables, seemingly unaffected by the weather, and motioned for her to start the car.

  The engine caught.

  Relief cut through her. He gave her a thumbs-up and walked back to the window. “Keep it running a bit before you start to drive. Where are you headed?”

  “Home.”

  Again, that grin appeared. Her heart did a slow flip-flop at the flash of strong, white teeth. Why did he have to be so damn attractive? So...viral? “I know. How long is the drive?”

  “About half an hour.”

  “I’ll follow you.”

  She shook her head. “That’s unnecessary. I’ll be fine. Thanks so much for your help.”

  “I’m following you,” he said. “If you want to call your husband or boyfriend and let him know, that’s cool. I’m not a killer or anything.”

  A garbled laugh escaped her lips. “I’m not worried about that. I’ve already felt helpless enough watching you start my car in the rain. I can get home by myself.”

  “It’s still raining and you’re keeping me here arguing. What if the battery dies again? I’ll worry until I know you’re safe at home. Wait for me.”

  His command struck her mute. She wasn’t used to men wanting to do stuff for her. She’d been on her own long enough to make her own rules and was never questioned. Instead of feeling lonely and bitching about it, Ella had embraced the independence and began to like running her life. This was the first time she’d been overruled.

  He was worried about her. It was kind of nice in an old-fashioned type of way.

  Connor unhooked the cables and got back into his car. She hit her lights, cranked the heat to maximum, and slowly pulled out of the lot.

  The commute home was slow. Cautious drivers took their time and traffic built up, but the headlights behind her stayed steady, giving her a strange type of comfort. She called Luke on her Bluetooth and told him about the delay, and he agreed to start on his homework. Finally, she pulled onto her block by her building and cut the engine. Her escort parked right behind her. Grabbing her purse, she darted out of the car to quickly thank him, but he was already climbing out. The rain had finally slowed to a lazy drizzle.

  “Thanks again for the help. I’m really sorry I took you so far from home.”

  He stared at her building and shook his head. “You didn’t. In fact, I’m already here.”

  “Huh?”

  His gaze narrowed and those stinging blue eyes caught and held hers. The scent of rain and the subtle spice of his cologne rose to her nostrils. His next words seemed to be a premonition of everything in the future that was about to change.

  “I’m your neighbor.”

  “Wh-what? I haven’t seen you around here. I don’t even recognize your truck.”

  “My apartment comes with a driveway so I park over there.” He jerked his head toward the back of the lot. “I think I saw your son. About nine years old? Glasses?”

  Shock delayed her response. Out of all the people in the world, Connor Dunkle was her neighbor. The air shimmered around her, and the rain turned to a misty, glowing aura. She smothered the emotions running through her, screaming out she never believed in coincidence and there was a bigger reason for such a discovery. “Yes, Luke. He’s ten. I-I had no idea. He didn’t mention running in to anyone.”

  “I interrupted an encounter with some boys. He got pissed at me. Do you want me to introduce myself to your husband? I don’t want him thinking I’m some stalker.”

  “No need. I’m divorced. What boys?”

  “A group from the neighborhood. I’ll keep an eye out. They get in to some trouble, but Luke seems to be able to handle himself.”

  She needed to talk to her son. Tell him to keep his distance from troublemakers. God, this is when she missed having his father around. “I better go. Thanks again.”

  “Ella?”

  She stilled. It was the first time he used her first name, and it sounded oddly intimate spilling from his lips. “Yes?”

  “If you need anything, just let me know.”

  She muttered another thank you and hurried away. She didn’t want to think of Connor in any other way than a pain-in-the-butt student. Having him right next door and conversing with her son shifted the balance. She really knew nothing about him on a personal basis. Until she did, Ella better warn her son to keep his distance.

  Damp, tired, and cranky, she pushed her way inside.

  * * * *

  Ella Blake was his neighbor.

  Connor chewed over this fact for a while before deciding it could be a good thing. Hell, if he helped her out a bit, maybe she’d soften and give him a better grade. Being a single mother was tough. After his mother took off and his father checked out, taking care of Nate sapped all his effort and energy. It made more sense why she didn’t take more care with her appearance. Men were probably the last thing on her mind. Still, if she ever wanted to find another relationship, she’d need some extra help.

  He let himself into his apartment and wondered what it would be like to be with someone more than a few nights. Nate seemed happy, but then again, he’d always seemed to want a woman on a permanent basis. Connor was content experiencing the whole buffet, and not once had he wanted more. Was there something lacking in him? And if so, maybe it was for the best. If he was built like his mother, he may end up running out on responsibilities, and he’d rather die than hurt someone like that.

  Of course, lately he’d give a monk competition. It had been so long since he’d had sex, his condoms probably had cobwebs on them.

  Shaking his head at his own personal humor, he reheated some leftover pizza, opened up his laptop, and concentrated on work. He’d only been at it about an hour when his phone rang. He glanced at the ID and hesitated. Then picked it up.

  “Hey, Jerry. What’s up?”

  The slight slur of words told him his best friend was on his way to feeling really good. “Connor, my man! Where the hell you been? Fancy college boy now and can’t come out and have a few beers?”

  A flare of guilt hit. When was the last time he’d seen him? Weeks. They’d been really tight working construction for a number of years and had each other’s backs. Until Connor had begun wanting more. More than getting drunk every weekend. More than seducing some new woman into bed. More than blaming management for all their trouble on sites and pretending they were better than anyone else because they got their hands dirty.

  The fun had begun to turn bitter. Especially when he’d made the decision to get his degree and apply for a management position.

  Connor forced a laugh. “I’ve missed you, dude. Been dying to get out and share a pint, but I’m slammed with schoolwork.”

  “Didn’t think you’d try and become one of them. What happened to you, man? Those books get to your brain and make you think you’re something you’re not?”

  The words cut deep, but he kept his tone easy. “Nah, I just got a few more months and this will all be behind me. Keep my chair warm, okay?”

  “Fuck the classes, man. Come and have a drink with me. There’s a pretty young blonde serving me that’s dying to meet you.”

  Half of him wanted to go. It would be so easy because it was the routine he’d followed for the majority of his life. He’d get a good buzz, bed the blonde, and be happy for a few hours.

  The problem was the next morning when reality hit. When the blonde left and he had a sick stomach, lighter pockets, and the faint tang of failure in his gut. Not this time. Not anymore.

  “I’ll catch you next time, dude.”

&nbs
p; Jerry cursed. Then hung up.

  Connor clicked off and rubbed his forehead. He felt like a traitor. Jerry and him went way back, and his friend was old school. He believed in working hard on the site and partying harder when he was done. Unfortunately, times were changing and management wanted more from their crew as things became more technological and architecturally modern. They wanted team members to grow with them, not just show up to put in time.

  Connor wanted one thing: secure the lead foreman job for Bilkins Construction. He’d been lucky enough to be included on the subcontractor team for the huge project with Tappan Zee Construction, which was building the new bridge over the Hudson River, but he needed more. It was the only reason he’d spent the last two years breaking his ass to stuff four years of school into two and still make an impression at the firm. Bilkins only hired college graduates for upper management. Connor was determined to transform himself into a businessman who could straddle both worlds—the one on a working site and the one behind a fancy desk.

  Finally, his efforts were working. The higher-ups noticed him and respected his work ethic and his leadership role with the crew. He’d changed his life radically to become the man he’d always wanted to be but never thought he’d deserve.

  Was he betraying his friend by wanting more out of his life? An emptiness clawed up from deep within him he’d never experienced before. He wasn’t sure how to feed it, so he concentrated on the only thing he could control right now.

  Graduate. Get a promotion. Make more of a difference. Then maybe, the hunger would go away.

  He sat at his desk for a while, then got back to work.

  Chapter Six

  “I don't know if I should care for a man who made life easy; I should want someone who made it interesting.”—Edith Wharton

  “Mom? I’m bored.”

  Ella slipped off her glasses and rubbed her tired eyes. Glancing at the clock, she noted it was already past five p.m., and darkness had slipped over to blanket her most precious Saturday. Not that she’d done anything great. Food shopping, cleaning, a few rounds of the Wii with her son, and then grading papers.