At Last

by Mindy McKinley

  When the last bell finally rang, he let out a quiet “thank fuck,” rushed to his office, packed his things, and had one foot out the door as if it were the last day before summer vacation.

  Chaz stopped him, slinging his own bag over his shoulder. “Where are you going? Did you forget the staff meeting?”

  Dom’s body sagged and he put his forehead on the doorframe. “Fuck me.”

  “Not interested,” Chaz returned dryly, and when Dom didn’t even smirk, he asked, “What is going on with you today?” He clapped him on the shoulder with concern. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine,” he answered with a weak attempt at a smile. “I just need sleep. I’ve been working overtime on the manuscript.”

  “Well, you look like shit,” Chaz told him as he locked the office door behind them.

  No kidding. “Thanks, man,” he grumbled.

  “No, no. Keep it up,” he joked. “The worse you look, the better for me.”

  Dom couldn’t help but chuckle and shake his head as they made their way down the hall.

  Staff meetings at East High School were held in a small, tiered lecture hall—the only room big enough to hold everyone. He found his usual seat at the back with Chaz and ignored coworkers as they milled about. They seemed excessively loud today but such was his mood.

  He caught a smile from the pretty new art teacher that was absolutely an invitation but he didn’t care. There was only one other teacher on his mind at the moment.

  The air in the room changed the instant she came in, glasses falling, hair slipping from its tie. She was head to toe in different purples, including her Chuck Taylors. She was utterly ridiculous and completely charming at the same time. She was a mindfuck of contradictions.

  He couldn’t help but stare. He didn’t even try to hide it, and the idea that he was the only man in the room that knew what was under all those clothes, what a vixen she was, made him smile. That ass, those lips, that voice ... Jesus. He had to adjust in his seat to hide his reaction.

  His eyes followed her as she took a seat near the front with the librarian. No surprise there, they were inseparable. When Amy said something to her and Lula erupted into laughter, her dimple appeared for one miraculous moment.

  It brought him slamming back to Mo’s, her finger drawing seductively across his cheek, her luscious voice vibrating around him. God Almighty he needed her.

  He struggled to focus on meetings in general but today’s was a herculean task. Most of the information could have been sent out via email, but he wasn’t at all mad, not when he could study the velvet-smooth curve of Lula’s neck without her even knowing he was there.

  The only thing that tore his eyes from her was the winter activities sign-up that Chaz ungraciously shoved in his face. He took the paper and blinked down at it for a moment before he could make sense of it. He mentally ticked “no” to the band concert and the Homecoming Dance. Orchestra Concert, “yes.” Bake Sale, “no.” Literature club. He stopped.

  Lula’s neat signature was on the top of two available lines. He stared at the graceful curves of her handwriting as an idea started to take hold. With a grin that could not have been described as anything other than lascivious, he signed his name with a flourish and passed the sheet to the next teacher.

  “Literature Club?” Chaz asked, an eyebrow sky high. “You’re kidding, right? I thought we were going to take the Academic Decathlon fundraiser.”

  He shrugged and tried to wipe the smile from his face. “Thought I’d try something a little different this year.”

  Lula

  Lula stood to leave the meeting feeling proud of herself for not looking his way once. She knew he was in the back where he always hung out with his Social Science buddies; she could feel him, but she had conquered every desire to look over her shoulder. It had not been easy, there had been a lot of them.

  She said good-bye to Amy and left the room with the rush of other teachers, feeling like she could finally breathe. She’d been edgy all day, worried he would pop up out of thin air again. She was almost back to her room when she heard his voice.

  “Miss Stanley, could I talk to you for a sec?”

  She froze in place. Shit, shit, shit. Not now, she was almost to her office, literally inches from safety.

  “Hey,” he said easily, striding up to her with his boyish smile, hands in his pockets. Christ, he could not be any more gorgeous.

  A delicious current licked up her spine when their eyes met. She tried to stifle it and prayed that her voice would come out normally. “Hey.” So far, so good. “Did you need something?”

  He shrugged up his shoulders in an “I’m completely innocent” way, “I just wanted to know what I can do to help.”

  She shook her head. “I don’t understand. Help with what?”

  “I signed up to help with Literature Club and I thought I should check and see if there is anything that you need me to do before the first meeting.”

  All the blood drained from her face and her eyes flared just slightly. She panicked. What? What? “I’m sorry, you did what?” Her inner bobcat was about to show its face again.

  He laughed good-naturedly; it was an annoyingly attractive sound. “I signed up to be your assistant for Literature Club, so that means that you”—he pointed at her—“and me”—he pointed at himself—“are going to be a team.”

  No, nononono. He couldn’t ... she wouldn’t. She shook her head quickly and a desperate laugh popped out. “No, you don’t want to do that. Literature Club can be sooo boring. Really, I can do it on my own ... but ... but thank you for offering.”

  He captured her gaze and the temperature of the hallway spiked. That devil grin of his spread slowly. “I’m sorry, Miss Stanley”—he put his hands up as if he were out of options—“I’m a man of my word. I signed. For the whole year.”

  “Really?” She hated how desperate she sounded, but this couldn’t happen. She could not be with him for hours on end. She couldn’t even form fully developed sentences when he was anywhere near her.

  His voice dropped a few pitches when he assured her, “Really.” It made her shiver all the way down her ... everywhere. “Anyway, I’ll touch base with you tomorrow so we can discuss details.”

  “Details,” she repeated stupidly.

  “Tomorrow.” He hitched his leather bag higher on his shoulder and gave her a little salute. “Details. See you then.”

  Mouth open, she watched him walk away, taking his perfect ass and his flawlessly fitted khakis with him.

  “Details,” she said idiotically to no one. She swallowed. She was in so much trouble.

  Chapter 7

  Dominic

  Something about knowing he had a reason to see Lula put Dom in the best of moods the next morning. She’d been most accommodating in his dreams and it had left him feeling deliciously rested.

  He whistled his way through the morning, drawing curious glances from students who were clearly alarmed at the lightness of his mood while discussing the French Revolution. But he couldn’t help it.

  He had settled on approaching her after school, that way they wouldn’t be hindered by any pesky bells or classes starting, but it was difficult to make it through the day without crawling out of his skin. At lunch, Chaz had just assumed he had gotten laid and he didn’t deny it, because it was far simpler than explaining whatever it was he was up to.

  He found himself waiting just outside her door while the last of her students filed out at the end of the day. He smiled as the scent of her perfume drifted toward him; it was cinnamon and vanilla, like freshly baked cinnamon rolls. His body reacted strongly to it.

  He had to clear his throat to keep from becoming a caveman, throwing her over his shoulder and taking her to his lair.

  “Oh, hey, Mr. Adams,” a freshman from his third hour greeted him as he left her classroom.

  “Hey, what’s up, Michael, good day?”

  He shrugged. “It’s over, so that’s good, right?”

&nbs
p; “Depends. How are your math grades?”

  He pulled a face.

  “That’s what I thought. Guess your day isn’t over after all.”

  He groaned. “You’re going to make me go to tutoring, aren’t you?”

  “Yes, sir. Need me to walk you?”

  “Nah,” he muttered, “I’ll go.” He trudged away.

  “Don’t think I won’t check on you!” he called after him. Michael lifted a weak hand in acknowledgment and headed down the hall. He was a good kid, but he needed someone to make him toe the line. Dom was happy to step into that role, and he watched him walk away until he was sure he turned down the math hall.

  Lula was sitting at her desk scribbling on some papers when he finally entered. The light from the window behind her illuminated the hairs that had fallen around her face. She was lovely and absolutely unaware of his presence. He considered just staring at her for a while but realized he was being a creep so he knocked lightly on the door. “Miss Stanley?”

  Her head whipped toward him—she was a rush of pink cheeks and flashing eyes. She was stunning. Her mouth opened and closed before she finally said, “Um. Hi?”

  He grinned. “Hi, are you busy?”

  Her gaze narrowed but he could feel the heat radiating from her. It was palpable. “Yes.”

  He entered her room, grabbed a chair, pulled it up to her desk, and sat so he was facing her. “Me too,” he answered easily, enjoying the irritated flare of her nose. “But I thought we should discuss Literature Club. I’m new at it and I want to make sure I understand my role.”

  “Right.” She sighed and set her pen down. Folding her hands together she looked him right in the eye. The connection made his gut contract. “You’re really going to do this?”

  He grinned. “I’m really going to do this.”

  She let out the most laborious sigh he’d ever heard. “Fine.” She fidgeted with her fingers. “I’ve run the Lit Club for the last three years with Mrs. Gresham. Now that she’s retired I need someone to help me organize and supervise meetings and events.”

  “And now you have me,” he said, easing back in the seat, grinning.

  “I’m thrilled,” she intoned.

  He smirked. “I’m going to pretend you meant that.”

  “Do what you want,” she said with a dismissive flutter of her hand.

  He laughed and grinned when the sound made a sweet blush climb her neck and spread across her cheeks. He had to shift in his seat. He could sense her thoughts going in the very same directions as his. They were not chaste. He briefly wondered what she would do if he did exactly what he wanted to do.

  “Anyway,” she continued after a telling swallow, “the club meets in here starting next Tuesday after school. We meet until about 4:30 unless we’re watching a movie, sometimes they go longer.”

  That’s what he was hoping for, just the two of them, the lights off, the door locked, as long as possible ... “So, that’s it, I just show up and ...?”

  “You’ll also need to read whatever we are. Be ready to discuss plot, characters, writing styles, political themes.” She eyed him. “I would expect you to contribute to conversations. Are you sure you’re not too busy for that?”

  He grinned. “Oh, I think I can find the time. And let me know if you need to meet to discuss ideas or projects. I’ll make time for you.”

  She blinked at the emphasis he put on the word “you,” but didn’t argue. He was going to consider that a win.

  “I’ll put some ideas together for you by tomorrow, how does that sound?”

  She shook her head. “You really don’t need to do that.”

  “I know,” he answered and leaned forward, “but I really, really want to.”

  When her pink lips parted, he ached to climb over the desk and kiss her senseless. Instead, he leaned back in his seat and put his hands on his knees. “So, is that all for today?”

  “You came to me,” she pointed out.

  “Yes, I did.”

  “Ugh. Yes, that’s it. Please leave.” She made a shooing motion toward the door. “Go.”

  He got up with a chuckle and put the chair back where he found it. He was very much looking forward to being in this room again with her very soon. Hopefully next time he could figure out a way to explore that buzz that seemed to stretch between them.

  When he turned around he caught her shimmying in her seat as if she had been sharing similar thoughts. With his widest grin he told her, “See you tomorrow, Lu.”

  “Only my friends call me that,” she corrected.

  He ignored her and left her sitting at her desk with a scowl.

  Lula

  Groaning, Lula dropped her head to her desk. Why was he doing this?

  And why did he have to look so good doing it? The second he sat down in front of her, she’d pictured him kneeling between her legs to do some not very school-appropriate things. She pressed her thighs together.

  She needed to get out of this, find some reason it wouldn’t work, cancel the club, leave the country. There were a thousand ways to escape.

  Taking a deep breath, she lifted her head. No, she could do this, she had to, Kaylee would kill her if she cut the club, and there were better ways to handle him. She would just have to make his role in the club as uncomfortable as possible. Squeeze him out, make him give up.

  The last few nights had been replete with erotic dreams featuring Dominic Adams, who turned out to be a singularly fantastic star. Her unconscious had taken them to places she hadn’t even imagined in real life and all she had thought about all day was him bending her over her desk with his hand fisted in her hair.

  When he appeared in her doorway minutes ago, she had to physically push away thoughts of peeling off his casually sinful button-up shirt. Just the way his broad shoulders tapered to his waist made her want to climb him like a tree. She was in very deep trouble.

  To clear her head, she opened up the browser on her laptop and started searching for lists of Chicago University Alumni.

  “Focus, Lu,” she whispered as she drummed her fingers on the keyboard.

  The only thing she knew about her mother and father’s relationship was that they met in her mother’s senior year of college and she had graduated pregnant and alone.

  Searching for a Joe that graduated around that time seemed a bit of a stretch. She wasn’t even sure if he had graduated at all, but it was a place to start, and that was more than she had two days ago.

  An hour later, with no promising leads, she slammed the laptop closed with an exasperated sigh and left for home.

  Chapter 8

  Lula

  “Hey, Miss,” she greeted the little grey cat that met her at her door. “How’s my girl?”

  Missy meowed and waited patiently for a scratch before zooming off.

  She followed behind, happy to be back in her little house. It was a jumble of improvement projects and unpacked boxes, but she loved it. Transforming it into the house of her dreams gave her unending joy.

  She had painted the guest bathroom a pale sage green over the weekend and tonight her goal was to watch trashy true crime television while sewing up some curtains. The fabric she chose was vintage—little seahorses embroidered on a cream background. It was perfect.

  Her little life centered around her cat and her home, and she was fully aware that sewing was just another nail in her old maid coffin. But it was a skill her mother taught her that she would cherish always. They had spent countless nights just like this. Her mom would work the pedal of the old Singer her mother had passed down and Lula would sit by her side, happily running her junior model making dresses for her Barbie Dolls.

  Smiling at the memory, she turned on her show, spread the fabric out, and started to measure it. She had it pinned, pressed, and ready to sew when her phone dinged.

  When she didn’t recognize the number, she swiped the screen with her brows drawn.

  MESSAGE: Hey, I had some ideas for the Lit Club. Thought I’d run the
m by you.

  Lula stared at the message and her heart thundered. She re-read it in amazement and then typed furiously.

  LULA: How did you get my number?

  DOM: You have a bad habit of answering questions with questions ...

  He wasn’t getting off that easy, regardless of how excited she felt at receiving a text from him. She typed again.

  LULA: How did you get my number?

  DOM: Amy.

  DOM: She was very accommodating.

  She just bet she was. She was also going to be dead tomorrow morning.

  LULA: What do you want?

  DOM: I already told you. I have ideas.

  Good God, this man was infuriating.

  LULA: What kind of ideas?

  There was a nerve-wracking pause as those stupid reponse dots just winked at her. She realized far too late that he could take her question way out of context.

  DOM: I have all sorts of ideas, beautiful, but some of those are best kept to myself.

  Lula’s body reacted in a rush and it rendered her panties useless. Dear. God. He called her beautiful. How did she respond to that? Before she could figure it out, he responded.

  DOM: But really, I had some ideas for Lit Club

  She silently thanked him for rescuing her. She was not used to this kind of texting.

  LULA: Okay. It couldn’t wait until tomorrow?

  DOM: It’s an emergency idea.

  She giggled despite her notion that she should avoid this man at all costs. Her stomach felt tingly, as she had in middle school when a boy she liked walked her to her locker. Did Dominic Adams really just want to chat with her? Smiling stupidly, she typed.

  LULA: Fine.

  He was quick to respond.

  DOM: I was looking over the list of members from last year and a lot of them are in my AP World History class. I thought it would be really interesting to do a literature crossover. I’m working on Napoleon right now.

  Lula’s breath caught. It was a fantastic idea. Her brain started spinning through all the possibilities. She had to give him credit, it was inspired.

  LULA: I actually love that idea.