Done With Men Forever (Clairmont Series Book 3)

by S. Jane Scheyder

  Tank felt a ridiculous urge to hurl himself into the mix and see how many of the kids he could flatten with one leap. He did his best to squelch this less than professional inclination as he stood, heart rate accelerating, to get their attention.

  Before he could speak, Becky turned, quickly but smoothly, and caught most of the boys in open-mouthed stares. As though she’d dealt with the problem a hundred times before, and she probably had, she crossed her arms and seared the room with her flashing eyes.

  “Problems with your self-evaluation, boys?” she asked.

  It was quiet for a moment, and Tank started to cool down. Good for her. She dealt with them herself, which was probably best. Using the term ‘boys’ was a nice touch; kept the kids in their place.

  A voice from the corner of the room, just a little too loud for his intended private audience, said, “But I’d rather evaluate ...”

  He never finished. Somewhere between ‘rather’ and ‘evaluate,’ Tank launched himself from the desk. The whole process of crossing the room, picking up the desk with the kid in it and turning it to face the wall took seconds. He spun and glared at the rest of the class, but only one person had the nerve to return his stare. The students instantly became absorbed with the papers on their desks; no one even dared to laugh at the kid who’d been silenced.

  Becky reined in her reaction, glanced at the clock, and then walked to the front of the room. She picked up her materials, put them in her bag, then addressed the class.

  “Time is just about up. Be sure to finish the evaluations and be ready to discuss them next class.”

  Papers rustled and chairs scraped the floor as the students prepared to leave. Tank stood in the corner, arms crossed, trying to figure out what had come over him. He thought through his reaction: he hadn’t touched the kid or threatened him. He’d just redirected him, figuratively and literally.

  He took a deep breath and walked to the front of the room. Becky looked out at the class, completely ignoring him. She was packed and ready to go. He had a pretty good idea where she was headed, and she looked ready to book it as soon as the bell rang.

  He’d have to talk to her before she got herself removed from teaching the class. Whatever their differences, they could do it. It would be good for the kids and it would probably be good for them. He didn’t even know for sure why, but there was no way he was going to let her run away.

  ***

  Becky could feel him in the hall behind her. How did he do that? She’d left the room with the kids, and even Tank would have understood the need to see the rest of the students out before leaving the room locked on his way to his next ... whatever. Apparently, his whatever included stalking her path to the office.

  She quickened her pace as much as she reasonably could with a hallway full of kids. Sensing that Tank was gaining on her, she fought an unreasonable urge to panic. She had a head start and a long stride, she should easily have lost him in the crowd of teenagers filling the halls.

  She rounded the corner; one more long stretch to go. It wasn’t necessary to look behind to see if he was still following. The looks on the faces of the girls walking past said it all. Wide-eyed and whispering, they looked right past her to the spectacle further down the hall. She scowled in frustration. He wasn’t even good-looking; he was just big, and he’d played professional football. So what? She smiled distractedly at the physics teacher - oh, big mistake. Now he’d stop by her room after school again. She had to be more careful.

  Becky finally reached the door to the registrar’s office. Relieved and determined, she reached for the handle, and the usually heavy door swung open with ease. She followed the edge of the door up to a large hand connected to an all-too-familiar oversized forearm. Without looking further, she sighed and walked into the office.

  “Ms. Jacobs, Mr. Kimball. How was your first day with the health class?” The registrar happened to be in the outer office and greeted them warmly.

  “Actually, if you have a minute, I’d like to talk to you about that,” Becky replied, trying hard to ignore the overwhelming presence behind her.

  “Ms. Jacobs, may I have a word with you first?”

  She’d never heard him use that tone of voice. It was bordering on ... courteous. She turned slowly, formulating her unequivocal denial. When she made eye contact, her heart almost stopped, he was looking back at her so earnestly.

  She eyed him suspiciously. First he leaps across the room to defend her honor, and then follows her across the school, and then asks politely to speak with her? She’d never been more alarmed.

  She dated the guys who made the obnoxious comments, not the rescuers. She led carefully chosen men on a merry chase and expected them to follow on her terms. Guys who were courteous? Not even on her radar. How had her enemy become all three in the space of half an hour?

  “What is it?”

  He looked over her head. “We’ll just be a minute.”

  Becky groaned quietly as she passed back through the door he held open. The halls were almost clear as the second hour class had begun.

  “Well, you have me, Mr. Kimball. What do you want me for?” She let her voice drip with innuendo, looking him right in the eye.

  He ignored the overtones, but not her eyes. “You need to stick it out. We should teach this class together.”

  “Why? And what made you think I wasn’t going to stick it out?”

  He gave her the single raised eyebrow, again.

  “I think this is a really bad idea,” she argued.

  “Why?”

  “We can hardly stand each other.” She lowered her voice as another teacher rounded the corner.

  “We’re professionals. We can do this.”

  This time she gave him the look.

  “We’re good for the kids,” he stated matter-of-factly. “These are important issues. They’ll listen to us.”

  She looked at him for a long moment. “So Mr. Hermit becomes Mr. Socially Aware. Very touching. You do understand what we’ll be teaching, don’t you?”

  “I get the basic idea.”

  “Come on, Tank, this is serious.”

  He looked at her oddly.

  “What?” she asked impatiently.

  “Nothing.” He shook his head, then rubbed the back of his neck.

  Becky ignored his enormous bicep for as long as she could. “Oh please, put your arm down. I’ve seen the muscles.”

  He lowered his arm. “I was rubbing my neck. It’s an old injury that gets irritated when I’m ... irritated.”

  Irritated Tank was much easier to deal with than Earnest Tank. “Well, you see the problem. We can’t even spend two minutes together without fighting. That’s not ‘good for the kids.’ ”

  “We’re not fighting, we’re talking.”

  “Same thing where we’re concerned.”

  She looked away from him and out the window toward the football field. Why didn’t he get it? Teaching this class with him was such a bad idea. What subject matter could possibly be more awkward? She turned back, and he was watching her as though he’d heard the thoughts bouncing through her head. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

  Of course, she felt like she had to refute any mind-reading he may have done. “I’m not afraid of you.”

  His lip quirked. “Good.”

  “We’re probably going to make fools of ourselves, fighting in front of the kids.”

  “Well, maybe they’ll learn what not to do.”

  Becky’s own mouth quirked at that. Then she frowned. “Why? Why me? You could do this with anyone.”

  Tank slowly shook his head. “Don’t want to teach this class with anyone else.”

  She eyed him warily. What did that even mean?

  Then it dawned on her. “Oh, that’s right. People. You’d have to get to know another living being and work with her. It would be too overwhelming.”

  He shrugged. “Something like that.”

  She searched his eyes. Bad idea. She cleared her t
hroat and looked away. “Fine.”

  Tank seemed to relax a bit.

  “But we prepare independently. No studying together.” She glanced past his eyes and over his shoulder. “We’ll divide and conquer, so to speak.”

  “If that works.”

  “It will. And another thing. No more tossing kids around in their desks. That was scary.”

  “I didn’t toss him, I redirected him.”

  “Seriously, you can’t do that.” She crossed her arms, and finally gave in to a little grin. “Did you see his face when he left the room? He was not happy. I’d look out for him.”

  “I can handle him.”

  “I don’t doubt that, but he’s the type that could cost you your job.”

  “Don’t really need it.”

  “Oh, please. Fine. Just ... behave.”

  This time Tank actually grinned. “I’ll try.”

  sixteen

  “I’m so sorry, you must have been terrified,” Grace shrugged out of her coat as she followed Becky into the kitchen.

  Surprised by this unusual greeting, Becky was quick to assure her friend. “Terrified is a little strong. Uncomfortable, maybe. Cabernet okay?”

  “Sure, sounds great.”

  Becky poured them both a glass of wine and led the way into the sunroom, where she had snacks on the table and a fire roaring in the fireplace.

  Grace sat down next to her and started to sip her wine. “Oh, cheers!” She lifted her glass to Becky’s and they clinked.

  “Cheers,” she replied, happy that Grace was able to break away for a girls’ night out, even if ‘out’ was at the inn.

  “Uncomfortable?” Grace resumed their conversation. “Tank said you put up quite a fight.”

  Becky furrowed her brow. “Well, it wasn’t that big a deal, really. We worked it out in the end. I just can’t figure out why he’d want to do it.”

  “I’m sure you know that I asked him to, but I begged him not to scare you.”

  “Scare me? I was unprepared for him, but he didn’t scare me.”

  “He said you screamed and attacked him with a fireplace poker.”

  Becky sat stunned for a moment, then burst out laughing. “You’re talking about his coming to the house the other night,” she finally replied.

  “Of course. What are you talking about?”

  Becky sipped her wine and laughed again. “I just found out today that Tank and I are team-teaching a health course at the high school.”

  Grace looked confused, then smiled, then giggled a little herself. “Wow, we should probably start over.”

  “Okay, I’ll summarize,” Becky said with a grin. “Yes, Tank came out the other night, and yes, I attacked him with a fireplace poker. And thank you for not even scowling.”

  Grace laughed. “I warned him.”

  “Well, apparently he knocked, but I never heard him.” Becky sat back with her glass. “Anyway, when I opened the door and saw someone outside - as big as he is - and of course he had his hood pulled up - anyway, I lost it and started swinging.”

  “Yikes. And no one got hurt?”

  Becky recalled pummeling Tank’s chest. “No one got hurt. Just my dignity. And hey, I tried calling you the next day. Where were you?”

  “Working. And my phone died for good this time. Had to get a new one yesterday. So, what’s with team teaching?” Grace’s speculative look was not lost on Becky.

  “Well, somehow we were matched up to teach the health class, which includes a significant unit on sex ed.”

  Grace sipped her wine and grinned, big. “That’s really, just, something.”

  Becky rolled her eyes. “Yeah, and it was really nice finding out about it in front of the kids when I walked into the classroom this morning.” She put some crackers and cheese on a napkin and sat back again.

  “Did Tank know?”

  “Not about me, but at least he knew he had a partner. I didn’t get that memo.”

  “Wow. So what did you do?”

  “Oh, we behaved alright in front of the kids. Then, before I had a chance to beg my way out of it, Tank convinced me to stick with it and teach the class with him.”

  “Convinced you?”

  “Yeah, I still don’t know how.” Becky sipped her drink.

  Grace took a bite out of a piece of celery and considered her friend with interest.

  “Or why,” Becky shook her head. “I know I kid around about it, but we seriously don’t get along.” She swirled her wine. “You’d think he’d want out as much as I do.”

  She could have sworn her friend was biting the insides of her cheeks to keep from smiling.

  “What?” she asked with a scowl.

  “You’re trying to figure out why a healthy, single, thirty-year-old man wants to team teach a sex class with a beautiful, single woman?”

  Becky’s scowl deepened. “It’s not a sex class, exactly. Please.” She took a hefty swallow. “And anyway, it’s not like that with us. He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t find me attractive, and, well, same here.” She looked around the room, refusing to meet her friend’s eyes.

  “Do you remember the boys on the playground who used to chase you and pull your hair?”

  Becky was not going to ask Grace to clarify. She was only going to get so much understanding from the man’s sister.

  Twenty minutes and another glass of wine later, they jumped at the sound of Maddy’s voice as she entered the kitchen. Neither one of them had heard her come in the front door.

  Becky stood quickly to greet her sister.

  “Why do you always look at me like that?” Maddy glanced past her to the evidence of their little party. “I have things to drink about, too.”

  “We were just, ah, talking, and ...”

  “Well, do you have enough for me, or should we open this?” Maddy pulled a bottle out of her bag. “I got this from John’s mom for Christmas. It looked a little terrifying; John won’t touch it. Not sure what that means.”

  Becky laughed. “I’ll grab you a glass. We’ll figure it out.”

  ***

  “Did you make the copies for tomorrow’s class?”

  Becky looked up from the desk where she was packing up her materials for the day. She seemed a little startled, but answered evenly. “Of course, I did. I said I would.”

  Two weeks into their teaching adventure, and she was as removed and snippy as ever. They hadn’t even started the interesting stuff, yet. “Just thought I’d check. I have to make some copies for another class, and the copy room gets backed up.”

  “Yeah. They need a better system.”

  Tank nodded. “You remember that I won’t be around on Friday - my P.E. class is going cross country skiing.”

  “Yep. Got it on my calendar.” She looked up briefly. “Guess you’ll miss my power point on black tar heroin.”

  He shifted, getting comfortable against the door frame. “Well, I’ll be taking a few of the trouble-makers with me. You should be grateful.”

  Becky shrugged. “I’m sure you’ll cover it on your trip. Just make sure they’re ready for the test next week.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She glared at him. “Anything else?”

  “That’s it.”

  “Good.” She slipped her coat on and pulled her gloves out of her bag.

  For some reason, Tank stayed and watched her prepare to leave. Becky didn’t make eye contact as she walked to the door, slipped past him into the hall, and then skidded to a halt. She turned around, and a look of panic, so brief Tank wasn’t sure he’d even seen it, gave way to an abruptly cheerful smile.

  “So, where are you parked?” she asked brightly.

  He eyed her for a moment and then glanced toward the hall. He was just inside the room so he couldn’t see what - or whom - she saw.

  She followed the direction of his gaze, and then, feigning surprise, called, “Oh, hey Bernie.”

  Tank heard a greeting from somewhere down the corridor, and Becky
turned back to him.

  “I really appreciate the ride home today. Don’t know what’s up with my car.”

  He noted the subtle look of pleading in her eyes. Someone didn’t want to be left alone with Bernie.

  “Hey, Becky, I’d be happy to give you a ride,” Bernie, apparently, called out.

  Becky glanced at him and then back to Tank. The panic resurfaced.

  “Okay,” Tank said slowly.

  She thanked him with her expressive brown eyes. Tank found himself staring as she dipped her head back toward Bernie.

  “I’m all set, thanks,” she called back.

  “Any time.”

  It sounded as though Bernie was doing something in the hallway, so Becky kept up her act.

  “I just have to run down to the office. I’ll meet you - where did you say your car was?”

  “I didn’t.”

  Her eyes quickly lost their gratitude and found exasperation, but she kept the cheerful expression on her face. “So?”

  “The lot by the football field.”

  “Okay, I’ll meet you out there in five?”

  “I have copies to make,” he reminded her.

  “Okay, well, no rush,” she replied with waning enthusiasm.

  “And I have to stop at the hardware store on the way home.” He wasn’t sure why he added that. He didn’t think she really planned on riding with him.

  “No problem,” she returned with the last vestiges of her fake smile.

  Tank looked at her a moment more, and left the room.

  ***

  “Get in the Jeep.”

  “I told you I don’t really need a ride.”

  “You do now.”

  Becky glanced over her shoulder and saw Bernie about twenty yards behind them. There was no way she could get into her own car now.

  “You’re not really going to the hardware store, are you?”