by Megan Kelly
Her fists landed on her hips. “If you’d ‘happened by’ around half an hour later, you’d have seen him leave.”
He blinked, nonplused. “Half an hour?”
“Not that what I do is any of your business.”
“I’m sorry.” He swallowed. “I jumped to conclusions. Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you send him home?”
“Scott.” She blew out a breath. “That’s so not your business, either.”
“No, sorry.” His knees wanted to give out, to sink him to the floor in relief. “I’m glad, though. Not that it’s any concern of mine,” he tacked on when she opened her mouth, no doubt to set him in his place. “I get that. But still, I want you to know. I’m glad you didn’t grade papers with him—or do any other schoolwork.”
Her teeth glinted. “Did I say that?”
He deserved that one, he supposed, stepping back to the girls with her. No doubt she’d said it just to score a hit, and he had to admit it had. That she’d tried to wound him told him she cared about his opinion. All in all, a productive talk, giving him lots to think about.
“Would you like to sit with us?” Scott shifted, unable to believe he’d blurted out the invitation. Judging by the distress on Ginger’s face, it would have been better to have restrained the impulse.
“Daaad.”
Still, he should make up for Shelby’s earlier rudeness over the cartoon issue. Yeah, he thought. As though that had occurred to him.
“I don’t want to intrude on your family outing.”
“No intrusion.” He held up the tub of popcorn, forgotten until then. “I’ll even share.”
Ginger looked at the girls, especially Serena’s watchful eyes piercing her, then nodded. “Well, then, how can I refuse? Let me get a drink and I’ll meet you inside.”
“We’ll wait.”
Ginger walked toward the counter, hearing Shelby hiss at her father. Poor kid. Nobody wanted to socialize with her teacher outside the school walls.
Seeing Scott had been a shock. She’d have to get used to the possibility of running into him. She’d hoped coming to a children’s movie at dinnertime on a Sunday would lessen her chances of encountering families she knew. As well as provide her with food, she thought, paying for a medium-size popcorn of her own.
Was Scott driving by her house on purpose, spying on her? Or was the route just convenient to avoid traffic by going through the residential area? She’d have to check his address back at school. She’d denied herself a peek when temptation had struck, not needing to know Shelby’s address in order to teach her. But things had changed with Scott’s admission, and she’d give in to personal curiosity. How had he found out where she lived? She didn’t believe in coincidences, and him driving past her house in one of the brief moments she was ever out front would be a rare quirk of fate.
They walked into the semidark theater with Ginger heading up the stairs behind Shelby. Scott helped Serena climb the stairs before him, her short legs making two steps on each stair necessary. Shelby located a nearly empty row and headed toward the center, and Ginger hesitated. Socializing was one thing; sitting by your teacher—out of the question.
“I should sit by Serena, if it’s okay,” Scott said, leaning closer. “Do you want to go in first?”
She noticed his uncertain glance locating Shelby, settling herself into a seat. “Go ahead of me. The girls might want to sit beside one another.”
“I don’t think it’s supposed to be scary,” he said in a lowered tone, “but you never know. And Rena can still get spooked easily.”
“I understand.” She waited to let him enter the row after the smaller girl, then followed.
“No way,” Shelby said a little too loudly. “You guys aren’t really going to sit together, are you?”
Heads turned and chuckles emerged from nearby patrons.
Scott narrowed his eyes at his older daughter, the glare momentarily still in place as he turned to Ginger. “Perhaps I should sit by Shelby. Have a heart-to-heart with her before the movie starts.”
Hands full of popcorn and a pop, she nudged the back of her fingers against his forearm. “It’s okay, Scott. I’m her teacher, after all. It’s understandable she doesn’t want us together.”
“It doesn’t excuse her rudeness.”
She dropped her voice and made a guess. “Am I the first woman she’s seen you with other than her mother?”
His mouth opened then closed before he nodded. “Hey, Rena, sit between me and Ms. Winchester, okay? I want to sit by both my girls.”
Which nicely cuts me out, Ginger thought. Shelby should be appeased.
Serena scooted back into her seat, then drew her knees under her to sit on her feet.
“Do you need a booster seat?” Ginger asked. “They have them here for smaller children.”
“Daddy,” the girl said. “Shelby’s teacher thinks I’m too little to see the movie. Can you get me a booster seat?”
Scott gave Ginger a funny look she couldn’t interpret, then rose to get the seat for Serena.
“I didn’t say she was too little for the movie,” Ginger started when he returned and got the seat under the child.
“Did, too,” Serena corrected, an earnest clarification, not arguing.
“I only asked if she wanted the booster. Not all theaters have them, and I thought this might be your first time to come here, and—”
He smiled and Ginger lost her train of thought. That smile had enticed her to get to know him at the Christmas party. It attracted her now, sending a tingle of awareness across her skin.
“It’s okay, Ginger.”
Serena shrieked with laughter. “You called the teacher Ginger!”
“You called my teacher Ginger?” Shelby’s low tone conveyed her horror.
Scott winced and shot an apologetic shrug toward Ginger. “She has a first name, girls.”
“That’s right,” Ginger added. “Teachers don’t live at school, we don’t eat in the cafeteria, and some of us have children or pets at home.”
Serena bounced on her seat, all tension over the booster seat apparently forgotten. “Do you have a dog?”
“No, unfortunately. I had to move this past year and I can’t have a dog in my new house. But I work at the Humane Society, so I get to play with the animals there.”
“I thought you was a teacher,” Serena said.
Ginger smiled. “I meant I volunteer with the animals. My work is teaching, of course, you’re right.”
The girl bobbed her head, sending her wild brown curls flying, the overhead lights catching glints of red tones. An ache pierced Ginger. If this were her daughter, she’d fasten her hair with adorable barrettes or silly cartoon character ponytail holders.
She pressed a hand to her stomach to stem the pain. Moments like this reinforced her determination to adopt. Having a son would make her just as happy as a daughter would. Her gaze strayed to Scott, and the image of a laughing bronze-haired boy struck her with longing.
All she wanted was a child to love who would love her in return, which was why she had determined to start with an infant. A baby who had never known another mother would welcome Ginger into his or her life.
She couldn’t get involved with Scott or any man. Her date the evening before had been a casual dinner with no expectations on either side. Which was a good thing, as she seemed to have lost her desire for casual sex.
Again she pulled her gaze away from Scott to concentrate on the trailers for upcoming movies. Sex with him had been too much like making love. Not casual. Not just fun and forgettable.
Not going to happen again.
She needed to concentrate on being an exemplary role model and pleasing an agency into letting her adopt a baby.
Her goal set, she settled in to watch the movie, ignoring the small warm body of Serena next to her and the unsettling way the child continued to stare at her. And definitely ignoring the tempting man on the other side of th
e girl.
GINGER WALKED ALONG THE deserted school hallway two nights later, mentally pumping herself up for the meeting she’d been assigned. The Technical Advisory Committee. Jeez. She was so not the person for this. Sure, she could use a computer, but buy new ones for the school? Not her specialty.
Unfortunately, Marianne had broken her ankle while sledding over the holiday, meaning someone had to replace the second teacher rep on the committee. The principal, who wasn’t any too fond of Ginger anyway, appointed her. Her inability to conceal her opinion of him as a boob didn’t help matters. Logical concerns about serving on this particular committee fell on deafened ears.
The jerk.
So here she was, giving up a Tuesday night to sit and listen to tedious details. She put a smile on her face and a hand on the doorknob, prepared for two hours of techno-jargon.
And opened the door to laughter. Female laughter, centered around…
Scott. Surrounded by a few mothers and the other female teacher, Cindy Grady. Their obvious appreciation for his masculinity vibrated in the room the way deer in rutting season scented the wind.
His eyes widened before he smiled, and she hoped she didn’t appear as poleaxed as she felt. Two hours of Scott being charming? Two hours of Scott being appreciated by those women, most of whom were married? Two hours of Scott… She swallowed the ideas of how she’d like to have two hours of Scott to herself, in bed.
“Hi,” he said as she put her folders on the table. “I didn’t know you were on this committee.”
“It’s a good fit for you, though. Bushfield recruit you?”
He smiled. “First day I brought Shelby, before you came in.”
“Figures. Our beloved principal is nothing if not focused. When he wants something or someone, that thing gets done and that person gets persuaded.”
“How did he persuade you?”
Ginger gave a rueful laugh. “My paycheck.”
“Ah. Do you serve on a lot of committees?”
“Ginger,” Cindy Grady’s voice cut in as the woman appeared behind Scott. “Have you met our newest father already?”
Ginger clenched her teeth at the woman’s implication. Her words came off as innocuous, but her tone said, Of course you’ve latched on to the most attractive man in the room. “His daughter is in my class.”
“How nice for you both,” Cindy said.
“I’m glad to see a familiar face,” Scott interceded. “This is my first meeting of any kind at the school. Seeing Ms. Winchester here eases some of my panic.”
“Oh, I don’t think you have to worry about your reception,” Cindy said. “The women on this committee are more than happy to see you.”
“That’s so kind of you to say.”
Ginger bit the inside of her cheek as she watched Scott charm the other woman. His Southern accent sounded a little heavier than usual. Did he understand Cindy’s innuendoes? Most men wouldn’t catch the underlying cattiness.
They took their seats while Cindy claimed the head of the table. As the former official teacher liaison, Marianne would have had to deal with the paperwork with the school district. Ginger was supposed to replace her, but if Cindy wanted the responsibility, all the better.
Scott’s eyes met hers and her former thankfulness that he wasn’t seated beside her disappeared. Now she’d have to watch him, two seats down and across the table, being petted and fawned over. Ugh. The poor new guy, the handsome, single male. A target for the recent divorcée on his left and the should-know-better, still-married woman on his right. Even the other man on the committee joked with Scott. Whether that was due to his relief at being with another guy in the female-dominated room, or just Scott’s personality and Southern ease with people, she didn’t know.
“I’d like to thank everyone for coming,” Cindy said. “I’ll try to keep these meetings brief. As those members from last fall know, Marianne Soball was the head of this committee, but she injured herself playing in the snow over the Christmas break.”
Ginger clenched her teeth. Cindy made Marianne sound irresponsible and childish. “She was sledding with her three-year-old son,” Ginger inserted in the woman’s defense. “He was too scared to ride by himself. Then their steering rope broke and Marianne couldn’t reach the bar. She tossed her son into a snowdrift.”
“Oh, my,” Julie, the divorcée, said. “I’m not sure I could lift my toddler.”
“Or that I would have had the wits to bail,” happily married Laurie added. “I’d have been frozen with fear. No pun intended.”
“Unfortunately,” Ginger continued, “Marianne couldn’t stop the sled and before she could roll off, which she said she’d intended to do, the sled hit a rock under the snow. She flew and landed badly.”
“Thank you for the explanation, Ms. Winchester.” Cindy’s eyebrows drew together. “I’m sure everyone would like an update during the break, but I need to move this meeting along. Ms. Winchester is replacing Mrs. Soball.”
“So are you in charge now?” Scott asked Ginger with bland innocence.
“No, she isn’t,” Cindy said.
“I’m sorry.” His brows knit with—feigned?—confusion. “I thought you said Ms. Winchester was replacing the head of the committee?”
Cindy’s lips drew tight as all eyes turned to her.
Ginger wanted to laugh, but the woman could be lethal. She was not an enemy Ginger wanted to incite. “I’m perfectly fine with Mrs. Grady taking over the committee now.”
She cringed at Cindy’s scowl. That could have been phrased more diplomatically. Offering a smile, Ginger added, “I’m really here as a teacher who has to deal with these computers every day. I’m not a computer expert, whereas Mrs. Grady has had so many more years of experience.”
Oh, dear. That didn’t come out right, either. She didn’t mean to imply Cindy was old. The woman couldn’t be more than one hundred and fifty, tops.
Ginger stifled a giggle. Scott winked at her and she nearly lost the battle. Not that her slight had been intentional, but it sure felt good.
Cindy glared then continued with introductions and brought everyone up to date. The committee had already discerned the needs of the classrooms and teachers and weeded through some possibilities. “We’d like to have a recommendation for the school district by the end of February, in order for the computers to be purchased with this year’s budget and installed over the summer.”
“Will it take that long to make a decision?” Scott asked.
Ginger smiled. He was new to the district’s red tape and the hoops everyone had to jump through, obviously. Was the school system more streamlined in Atlanta? “Everything from our committee goes to the district’s purchasing committee. The high school has a similar committee to ours.”
“Y’all can’t just get together and have one committee?”
“They need computers with more abilities and—” she waved her hand vaguely, since she wasn’t sure of the specifics “—accessories for graphics and math and whatnot.”
Scott grinned. “Accessories?”
Cindy listed computer parts and gadgets Ginger had never heard of.
“There you go,” Ginger said. “That’s why I’m not the head of this committee.”
The other father, John, laughed. “I’ve only heard of some of those things myself and I work with computers all day.”
“Meet me at the coffee machine later,” Scott said. “We should get to know one another.” He turned back to Ginger. “And does the junior high have a committee?”
Cindy shook her head. “The middle school doesn’t get new computers this year.”
“Is it possible to get together people from the two schools and get the same computers?”
“No,” Cindy said. “The high school received a private grant, specifying the computers purchased with that money had to go to the high school only.”
“Okay,” Scott said. “I’m just the new guy here, but if we all bought the same computers, we might get a better discou
nt as the number of computers purchased would be greater. They could apply their grant money to their part of the purchase, right?”
“Mr. Matthews.” Cindy’s smile oozed condescension. “I appreciate your enthusiasm for making the process smoother, but that’s just not how a school district works.”
“It should,” he countered. “Does our committee have a liaison with the high school committee?”
She bristled. “As I’ve said, we’re using separate monies and have different needs in computers. At our level, the machines don’t have to be as sophisticated as they do at the high school.”
“Forgive me for interrupting,” Ginger said, “but Mr. Matthews is a programmer, so he knows a little something more about this than we do.”
“That’s the problem,” Cindy said. “Mr. Matthews may know a little about it. But,” she continued over the gasps of the attendees, “being new to the district, to the state for that matter, I’m afraid he doesn’t understand how things work.” She flashed her shark smile at Scott. “No insult intended.”
“None taken. I don’t wish to intrude new ideas on a system that has obviously worked well for so long.”
John guffawed. “I’d hardly say our school district works well. No offense, ladies; the teaching is great. It’s the politics and hang-ups like this that made me hesitate to serve on this committee.”
Silence hung in the room as people avoided eye contact with Cindy.
“Well,” she said, “I suppose we have a solution. Since Mr. Matthews and Ms. Winchester are of one mind, and Mr. Matthews has the expertise Ms. Winchester lacks in this area, I propose they liaise together.”
Ginger held the other woman’s gaze. She’d made liaise sound sordid. Knowing her, Ginger knew the wording was no accident.
Amidst the congratulations, Scott met her gaze.
“Sorry,” he mouthed.
She shook her head infinitesimally. Her battle with Cindy Grady had been going on long before Scott arrived or Cindy’s sister lost her job. She had plenty of experience enduring the older woman’s innuendoes.
Now, however, Ginger worried about giving Cindy ammunition to bring her before the educational board for review. She couldn’t appear to have improper relations with a parent, no matter that she hadn’t known who Scott was the night they spent together. She had to keep her job.
