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The Professor

Page 6

by Kelli Callahan


  “I’m free tomorrow too.”

  “So, what are you thinking? Another dinner date? Lunch maybe?”

  The enthusiasm in his voice warms me. At least it’s clear that he is very interested in seeing me again. “Actually, I was thinking about breakfast. The thing is, tomorrow is really short notice, and I don’t want to pressure you with having to plan another extravagant arrangement to appease my preference for privacy.”

  His teeth flash with his smile. “It wasn’t all that extravagant.”

  “There was a helicopter and a mansion. It was insanely extravagant.”

  His laughter warms me more than the car’s heater. “I wouldn’t mind the planning even if it is short notice. Anything to see you again sooner than expected.”

  I sigh. “That’s very sweet, but I have a simpler solution. Come to my place tomorrow morning.”

  My request is met with silence.

  “I know it’s late now and you probably have something more important to do. I just thought it was a good idea since no one in my neighborhood knows you teach at the university. My sister will be at work all day, so I’ll have the place to myself. It’s just for coffee and breakfast and we can talk some more…”

  He still isn’t saying anything. Oh God. if he shuts me down surely, I’ll die of humiliation. What was I thinking asking him to come over after one date? Was it even good first date etiquette asking him to my place? “You know what, forget it. It’s probably a bad idea―”

  “I’ll be there.”

  My mouth clamps shut. “You will?”

  “I was just shocked that you’d ask me over to your place.”

  The gravity of what I just did hit me. Holy shit. I invited Bryce Marshall to my house. A man that owns a mansion in another city and probably lives in one here too is coming to my humble abode. I didn’t really think this through. There’s no backing out now.

  “Okay. It’s a date,” I say, suddenly feeling apprehensive.

  But if he wants a real glimpse at who I am and where I am from, then he needs to see the house I grew up in.

  All I can hope for is that he doesn’t run away.

  This girl from the wrong side of the tracks is falling for a man so far out of her league.

  And I want him to catch me.

  Chapter Eight

  Bryce

  It’s a little before seven when I stroll into my parent’s castle on the hill. That’s what I call the massive property that’s perched on a hill overlooking most of the town. It’s where I grew up, but I now have my own place closer to work. I still spend many nights here, though, when I come over for dinner with the family or to an event put on by my parents

  My stepmother, Diana, invited me over for breakfast this morning. Sunday breakfast has become a bit of a family tradition since she came along. I don’t mind it. I’ve always liked Diana. She married my father seven years ago and she’s proved to be a sweet woman. This morning I’ve stopped by to disappoint her. I’ll be absent from the breakfast table. I figured I’d deliver the news in person.

  Diana is coming down the spiral staircase as I round the corner into the living room. Her face lights up when she sees me. Diana is a pretty woman with blonde hair that she always has in an elegant updo and warm brown eyes that twinkle when she smiles. She’s always well put together even in the house. She’s twenty years younger than my father. I love Dad but I’ve often wondered what a nice young woman like Diana sees in him. He can be a miserable, controlling lord of the manor at times… all the time.

  “Bryce. You’re about two hours early for breakfast. Are you that hungry?” There goes the twinkle in her eyes. I assess her carefully. The twinkle isn’t quite as bright this morning, however and her smile seems a little strained.

  I chuckle and walk into her open arms to give her a peck on the cheek. “I’m afraid I’ve come to disappoint you, Diana.”

  “Oh no. You’re not staying?”

  “I’m afraid not. Something important came up.” There was no way I was going to turn down an invitation from Abby. My heart practically galloped out of my chest with excitement when she extended the offer for breakfast at her place. I’m going to her place already, after one date. After she pretty much told me to get lost many times before that date. I’ve made more progress than I ever dreamed I would so soon.

  Diana eyes me curiously. “Is everything okay?”

  “Everything is amazing.”

  “Amazing, huh?”

  I grin down at her. She’s waiting for me to spill the reason for my chipper mood. I can’t. Not yet. It isn’t that I don’t want to share with her. I know she’ll be happy I’ve met someone. It’s my father who’s the problem. If the tyrant finds out that I’m seeing someone who doesn’t vacation on secluded islands or party on fancy yachts, he’ll be livid. Basically, he wants me to marry someone from our social class. The only exception is the chief of police’s daughter, Charlie. I’ve been dodging Dad’s attempt at matchmaking for months. I don’t know what his new obsession is with getting me and Chief Traverse’s daughter together.

  I’m about to tell Diana bye and be on my way when I hear footsteps coming our way. My hope that it’s my stepsister, Holly, vanishes when Dad appears. Michael Marshall, the mayor of Oak Valley is an imposing figure in his mid-fifties. He’s held up alright over the years. The only significant sign of his age is his salt and pepper hair, which is still full and luxurious. I always assumed he’d age horribly considering that he’s always miserable. The scowl on his face has been there since I was born. At least I know I have good genes. I look a lot like my father, but I have my mother’s eyes.

  “Bryce, my boy. What are you doing here so early? You’re here all the time. You might as well move back in.

  “No thanks Dad. This place isn’t big enough for the both of us.”

  “What are you talking about? There are three floors.”

  Yes, but his ego takes up about two and a half. No space for a long-suffering son who wants to live his own life, away from his controlling parent’s ruling thumb. “My place is just fine.”

  He doesn’t seem pleased. I don’t have time for a discussion about possibly moving back into the family mansion, so I turn to Diana. “I’ll see you later. Tell Holly hi for me.”

  “You’re leaving already?” Dad asks.

  “There’s somewhere I need to be.”

  His brows pull together into a deep scowl. “What’s more important than family?”

  I sigh. If he launches into another lecture about family duties, I’ll lose my fucking mind. I’ve been getting those lectures since before I hit puberty. I can recite verbatim a few of them. “Dad, I really have to go.”

  “Hold on a minute. Did you give what I said any thought?”

  “You say a lot of things, old man. You have to be more specific.” He hates it when I call him that. That’s why I make it my duty to call him that. There’s nothing I can do to hold back my smirk when he glares at me.

  Diana purses her lips and studies the tips of her nude pumps, probably trying to hide her smile. Dad’s face turns red when he’s pissed, and his moustache does this twitching thing that looks downright amusing.

  He doesn’t lash out at me as I expect. Instead, he turns to Diana and scowls. “You find that funny, do you?” He practically growls. Diana looks petrified.

  Eyes narrowed; I study them with new interest. What is Dad’s deal? Has this hostile energy always been present? “Lay off Dad. I’m the one you should be annoyed with.” Just about everyone is afraid of the old man. Not me. So, we butt heads from time to time.

  Diana shoots me a grateful glance. “I’m going to make sure breakfast is underway.” She gives my arm an affectionate pat and leaves.

  I watch her until she disappears. I didn’t get to ask if she’s alright. She’d already seemed a little off when I arrived and her entire demeanor changed when Dad walked in. I make a mental note to check in on her later. I turn to Dad. “What was I supposed to consider?”


  “What I said about Chief Traverse’s daughter. You know, about you two being a good match.”

  “Jesus, Dad, where do you find time to play cupid when you’re busy running a city?”

  “Don’t get smart with me, boy.”

  “Man. I am a man now, in case you haven’t noticed.”

  His jaw clenches. “Yes, you are. That’s why you should be making moves to continue the Marshall legacy. It’s time you settle down and produce an heir.”

  He did not just say an heir. I fold my arms and mimic his scowl. “Dad, as much as you like to think of yourself as the King of this land, we’re not the royal family.”

  His face flushes. I can tell he’s barely holding on to his temper. “I’m not going to stand here and argue with―”

  “Alright great. No arguing. That works for me.” I clap him on the shoulder and glance at my watch. See you later, old man.”

  He grunts his annoyance, and I take off wearing a smile. I’m out the door before he can recover from his anger over my insolence. Running into Dad has severely spiraled my good mood. Now, all I can think about is how he’ll disapprove of my relationship with Abby. He’ll give me pure hell for it. I can’t introduce Abby to my parents any time soon.

  The thought lingers in my mind even as I come to a stop in front of her house. I take a look around the neighborhood in the light of day. This early and in this weather, there’s no one out. No curious eyes. I’m about to call Abby to let her know I’m here when her door opens. She waves and signals to the driveway.

  She’s closing the gate when I park and hop out of my car. “Hey.”

  Her cheeks are flushed but it’s probably from the cold. She ran out in nothing but jeans and a sweater. “Hi.”

  “I could have parked on the street.”

  “I know but your car sticks out like a sore thumb. There are some guys around here with very sticky fingers.”

  I grin. “A stolen car would be worth seeing you again.”

  She averts her gaze. “Yeah, right. Do you have a degree in flattery or something?”

  “I’m not trying to flatter you. I mean it.”

  Abby gazes at me, with an expression I’ve seen before. I can’t exactly make out what it is. But there’s a hint of suspicion, as if she’s trying to gauge if I’m being genuine. She folds her arms and shivers. “Let’s go in before I turn into an ice sculpture.”

  I follow her, still finding it hard to believe she invited me over. Inside, she takes my coat and throws it over a metal coat rack then proceeds to stare at me. Shoving my hands into my pockets, I rock back on my heels.

  “Something wrong?”

  She blinks and visibly swallows. “Um...no. I’m just really nervous. I’ve never really had anyone―a guy―over…” she trails off and blows out a breath.

  She’s never invited a man over. I’m disgustingly satisfied to hear that, but I try not to show it. “I see. Well, first things first, I want you to stop being nervous about anything with me. Second, you should start by kissing me good morning. You know, just to get the ball rolling on date number two.”

  Her soft giggles are like music to my ears. It’s a nice sound to be treated to in the morning. Her shoulders relax and she steps closer. “I know what you’re doing,” she says.

  “Shamelessly angling for a kiss?”

  Eyes gleaming with laughter, she plants her hands on my chest. “And making me laugh to get me to relax. Thank you.”

  I wrap an arm around her and pull her to my body. My hand skims up her torso, the soft sweater tickling my fingertips. I cup her neck and hold her in place so she can’t even think about pulling away from me. I’ve been wanting this since Mexico.

  She tips on her toes to give me the kiss I practically begged for. Our lips touch, just light grazes but the contact lights a fire inside of me. It never ceases to amaze me how my body reacts to her. We don’t even have to touch. All I have to do is look at her and I’m ready to lose control. When she pulls away, she’s wearing a small smile. I’m tempted to pull her back in for a deeper, hotter exploration of her mouth. But, I’m giving her the reins. We’ll go as slow as she wants.

  Face flushed and still a little breathless from our kiss, she asks, “Coffee first? Or anything else you prefer.”

  What I prefer is her. She looks delectable in tight jeans and a sweater that hugs her delicate frame. “Coffee.” My voice sounds huskier than normal. I pull in a steadying breath and stamp down my hormones.

  “So this is my place,” she announces as she leads me further inside. It’s not as luxurious to what you’re accustomed to, I’m sure.”

  “I’ve been staring at your ass the whole time, so I haven’t noticed.”

  Abby’s head whips around. She stares at me with wide eyes, and I shrug. I said it for shock value, but I really have been staring at her ass the entire time. Her cheeks burn bright, and I swallow my smug grin. Good. Let her be surprised. It’s time she gets over the whole I’m rich thing.

  Clearing her throat, and still blushing, she gestures to the kitchen. “Have a seat.”

  Chapter Nine

  Abby

  I have a Marshall sitting in my kitchen, sipping coffee. I’d been on edge about having Bryce here, but that apprehension vanished. He’s very down to earth. Of course, I should have known that because he didn’t act like a millionaire when I met him. He’d just behaved like a regular guy, enjoying the beach. Now, I don’t even know why I was nervous this morning. Bryce has a gift for making me feel comfortable.

  “Holy crap,” he says for about the tenth time, and gazes into his cup. “You’re like the coffee guru. Coffee doesn’t taste this good when I make it.”

  I hide my satisfied smile behind my own mug. “I’ve worked at the diner for a while, so I’ve had time to perfect my skills. When I just started working at Denton’s Place, there was always complaints about the coffee. I tasted it one day and it did taste like crap. I thought, no one should be given crap to drink. That’s just...cruel. I made it my mission to make it better. I worked at it for a while, and I’ve become a master barista, saving the world from horrible coffee one cup at a time.”

  Bryce chuckles and holds up his cup in salute. “You’re a true hero, Abby Knight. The people of Oak Valley should thank you.”

  “I know right. I should get my own monument in the town square.”

  His shoulders shake with laughter as he puts down his cup. He props one arm on the table and rests his jaw on his hands. I bend down to extract the biscuits from the oven so I don’t realize he’s staring until I turn around and catch his eyes locked on me.

  I freeze. Suddenly, there’s a need to check my hair and face. Why is he staring? “What?”

  “I’m sorry. It’s impolite to stare but I can’t help it. This is just…” He sighs. “Being here with you is refreshing. I’m enjoying my time.”

  “That’s a relief.” I smile. And I like having him here...in my personal space. I don’t usually like having anyone in my personal space.

  “I’ve never had a breakfast date. I like it. This should become a thing.”

  Shoveling biscuits into a bowl, I pause. “I don’t usually have the place to myself.”

  He shrugs. “It doesn’t have to be here all time. You can come to my place.”

  I gulp. “The mayor’s house?”

  A small smile lifts his lips. “No. I live alone.”

  Still, it’s on the other side of town. We can’t risk anyone finding out about us. Is there even an us? I glance at him. Probably not. I mean, this is just our second date.

  “I can practically see the wheels turning in your head.” Bryce chuckles. “Tell you what, let’s not think about that right now. Let’s just live in this moment.”

  Nibbling my lower lips, I nod. Live in this moment. I like this moment. Every moment with Bryce feels wonderful. “I can do that.”

  He beams at me. “Good.”

  “You make stellar coffee and you’re an amazing cook. Marry me, Ab
by.”

  In the process of nibbling on bacon, I gasp and begin to choke. I dissolve into a series of sputtering and coughing. “W-what?”

  Bryce hurriedly pours out orange juice from the box in the middle of the table and shoves the glass into my hands. He watches me gulp it down. “That was a joke.” Amusement flashes in his eyes but there’s also a glint of concern. “Are you okay?”

  Taking a deep breath, I nod. I’m so embarrassed, I want to melt into the kitchen tiles and never be seen again. Why would I even think he was serious? Bryce must think I’m an idiot. “Fine,” I squeak, unable to look at him.

  “I didn’t mean―”

  “It’s fine. I knew you were joking.” I didn’t. For a moment I thought he was dead serious. I’m such a fool. As if a man like Bryce would even consider the thought of marrying someone like me. Sure, he likes me. That’s obvious. But when he marries, he’s going to do it with someone from his circle. Likely a rich socialite.

  Clearing my throat, I quickly change the subject. “I’m glad you’re enjoying breakfast.” I went all out. Biscuits, omelets, pastries. I have some explaining to do when Lucy gets home and sees the leftovers. I went overboard on the portions out of sheer nervousness. We’ll be eating biscuits and pastries for days.

  “You belong in the kitchen.” His eyes fly to me. “I don’t mean that in a sexist, chauvinistic way. You’re just very good in the kitchen... it seems. This is only one meal after all. I’ll have to experience a few more to make a fair judgement.”

  “First you angle for a kiss and now you’re angle for more meals.” I shake my head. “Absolutely shameless.”

  “Damn. I was hoping you wouldn’t catch on.”

  Amusement floods me and I’m also flattered. I’m thrilled he enjoys the first meal I’ve made for him. Something about this whole setting feels extremely intimate. Cooking for someone should come way later, at least after several weeks of dating. Right? Yet, here we are, one week in, having breakfast together in my kitchen.

 

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