The Complete Langley Park Series (Books 1-5)

by Krista Sandor

  “How often do you run?”

  They laughed, each smiling nervously at their overlapping words. The tension that existed between them seemed to wane a bit.

  “I’ve been running for a long time. I started about ten years ago when I was in Kentucky.”

  “Is that how it works? You go from city to city for your job?”

  “That’s right. I spend about two years training teachers and working with students. And then I move on to the next school.”

  “You don’t mind the moving?”

  “I love my work, wherever it takes me.”

  “Is that what you tell people?” he asked, a bit of sarcasm lacing his words.

  Jenna stopped. “What kind of question is that?”

  “I’d just think you’d want more.”

  She stared at him. There was a glint in his eye. Did he enjoy trying to set her off? She parted her lips to speak. She wanted to tell him to mind his own business. She wanted to tell him she was perfectly happy with the life she had built for herself.

  Ben barely remembered her at all. He had no right to any opinion regarding her life. He was getting under her skin, and that had to stop. Detached and indifferent was the way she protected her heart. She closed her mouth. She wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he’d upset her.

  Kate came running back to them. “Keys please, Daddy.”

  Ben handed the house keys to his daughter then put his hand on the seat of the bike. “I haven’t told Kate that you’ll be working with her yet. She’s been very resistant to tutors in the past.”

  Grateful for the change of subject, Jenna looked down at Ben’s hand, suddenly recalling how it felt when it was wrapped around hers.

  Don’t even think about that. He doesn’t even remember you.

  “We’ll take it one step at a time. Let me get my things, and I’ll knock on your door in about fifteen minutes.”

  Jenna smoothed the pleats of her skirt. She released a breath and knocked on the French doors, but nobody answered. She knocked again and peered into the kitchen through the glass. The pile of workbooks, once nicely stacked, now looked as if someone pushed them off the counter in one fell swoop.

  A serious-faced Ben finally met her at the door. His posture was rigid.

  “Hey,” she said, inwardly cringing for sounding so unprofessional. She had to stop letting her memories of this man get the better of her.

  Ben glanced into her tote bag. She had all the usual teacher tools like books and paper. But she also had some unconventional items like puppets and a toy telephone. Ben’s pinched expression softened, but then a high-pitched wail rang through the house, and his whole body tightened.

  “No, Daddy! I hate reading! I hate it! I won’t do it! You can’t make me!”

  “Kate locked herself in the bathroom when I told her you were coming over to help her with reading.”

  Jenna gave him her best teacher smile. “That’s all right. I can work with six-year-olds locked in bathrooms.”

  Raising an eyebrow, Ben gave her a skeptical look. But his face was also riddled with worry and exasperation.

  The bathroom was situated under the staircase just past the entrance to the kitchen. It was easy to find. Jenna just had to follow the sounds of Kate’s yelling and crying. She lowered herself to the ground and sat on the hardwood floor directly in front of the bathroom door.

  “What are you doing?” Ben asked, looking even more frustrated. But Jenna raised her index finger to her lips and signaled for him to be quiet.

  Sitting crossed-legged and leaning against the bathroom door, Jenna selected a book and started to read aloud. Kate continued crying and yelling, but after she’d read only a few lines of text, the little girl quieted.

  Jenna had chosen to read the book Amazing Grace by Mary Hoffman, a favorite with all the children she worked with and the perfect book to engage Kate.

  The story was about a little girl named Grace who loved listening to stories and acting them out, often in costume. Thinking back to Kate in her Darth Vader get-up, she decided this book would be a good place to start.

  As Jenna continued reading, she heard a thud from inside the bathroom. Kate had jumped. She must have been standing on the toilet or sitting on the sink. Jenna smiled as she heard little steps and then, looking at the space between the bottom of the door and the wood floor, she watched the light shift and saw little fingers poking out. Kate was stretching her fingers under the door trying to reach Jenna’s hand resting nearby.

  Jenna moved her fingers, and then they were touching, Kate’s little fingertips on hers. As she began to read again, she glanced up to see Ben staring at her with a look of disbelief on his face. She gave him a knowing smile and finished reading the last page.

  The story ends with Grace being cast in her class play as Peter Pan even though she’s a girl. Children loved how Grace was able to achieve her goal by working hard and believing in herself, and Jenna often chose this book to engage nervous or anxious students.

  She closed the book but didn’t move her fingers from where they met Kate’s. It was quiet for several minutes as they sat there, Jenna leaning against one side of the door and Kate leaning against the other.

  Ben hadn’t moved either. He was still observing her intently. Over the years, Jenna had done hundreds of teaching demonstrations, and she never felt self-conscious. But today, with Ben watching, she felt his eyes on her. She wasn’t able to block him out. And somewhere deep inside, she liked knowing he was there.

  Soon the tiny fingers disappeared from under the door, and Jenna heard Kate moving to her feet.

  “Do I have to do the workbooks?” Kate’s squeak of a voice asked from behind the door.

  “Nope, I don’t have any workbooks.”

  “If I do a good job, can we play hide-and-seek after?”

  Jenna smiled at the sweet request and glanced up at Ben. He nodded his approval. “It’s a deal,” she said, her gaze still locked with his.

  11

  Kate murmured under her breath, enthusiastically using magnetic letters to spell rhyming words. Jenna brought the tutoring session to a close, and a warmth filled her chest. Working with children never got old, and the challenging cases always held a special place in her heart.

  “I usually count first when Daddy and I play hide-and-seek,” Kate said as she helped Jenna put the magnetic letters back into the bag.

  “Is that right?” Jenna asked.

  “Daddy says no hiding in the basement and no leaving the house.”

  “Leaving the house?” Jenna asked and met Ben’s gaze.

  “Kate had the idea to go hide behind the fountain in front of The Scoop Ice Cream Parlor.”

  Jenna held back a chuckle. “Oh, no!”

  “Luckily, she left the front door wide open, and I was able to intervene.”

  “We still got ice cream, right, Daddy?” Kate added.

  Ben gave a conciliatory groan. “Yes, Jellybean, we still had ice cream.”

  “All right. I think I’ve got it. No basement and no going outside.”

  “You got it, Jenna! Daddy, you’re playing, right?”

  “Okay, Bean. Start counting and no peeking.”

  As Kate counted, Jenna watched Ben out of the corner of her eye. This was the most at ease she had seen him. His dark hair was a bit disheveled, and his eyes were bright and lively. He loved his daughter, that was as plain as day to see.

  At first, Jenna thought some of this enthusiasm was meant for her, but it wasn’t. Ben was simply a relieved parent, encouraged to see his daughter doing well. It would do her no good to think his smile was for anyone but Kate.

  “Daddy!” Kate yelled, temporarily halting her count, hands pressed to her eyes. “First hide-and-seek and then sardines.”

  “All right, Jellybean, but then dinner.”

  “Jenna!” Kate yelled, overcompensating with volume for her temporary lack of sight.

  “Yes, Kate?”

  “Sard
ines is like reverse hide-and-seek. One person hides, and everybody tries to find them. Do you know that game?”

  “I do,” Jenna answered.

  Kate resumed her count, and Ben gestured for Jenna to follow him. He walked through the narrow hallway and into the dining room where two columns of long hanging drapes framed a large picture window. Ben hid behind one of the columns of the curtain while she followed suit on the other side.

  Enveloped in the thick fabric, she listened to Kate count. Now in the sixties, Jenna guessed she was going to count all the way to one hundred. Her teacher’s brain clicked on, and she was pleased to see Kate’s math skills seemed to be right on grade level.

  As she stood quietly, her hands went to her long hair. A nervous habit for years, she gathered the strands to one side and began to braid. She used an elastic hair tie she kept on her wrist and tied off the end without thinking.

  She glanced over to where Ben was hiding only a few steps away. He was watching her. She wrapped the tail of the braid around her finger. Ben swallowed hard. He glanced up and met her gaze. They stared at each other. There was something in his eyes. His gaze flicked back to her braid. She took a step toward him but stopped as Kate called out, “ONE HUNDRED,” at the top of her lungs.

  Kate’s feet skittered up the steps followed by a series of slams and bangs as she went room to room. Moments later, the footsteps thumped back down the stairs. Kate was talking to herself and giving a play-by-play of where she was going and interjecting audible groans of disappointment every time she’d found a hiding spot empty.

  Finally, she made it to the dining room, and her frantic pace slowed as she crept forward, one tiptoed step at a time. She surreptitiously pulled back the curtain with all the elaborate drama a six-year-old could offer, revealing first her father and then moving to the opposite side to uncover Jenna, laughing and squealing the entire time.

  Jenna watched, a stupid grin on her face, as Ben lifted Kate up and tossed her into the air. A shiver crept up her spine.

  Being with Ben and Kate felt so natural.

  “Can we play sardines now, Daddy?”

  “All right, Bean. One game of sardines.”

  “Jenna, you hide first. Daddy and I will find you.”

  Kate tugged on Ben’s hand, pulling him back toward the kitchen. Looking over his shoulder, he asked, “Do you have plans?”

  A smile lit her face. “No, why?”

  Did Ben feel it, too?

  “I just didn’t want to keep you from anything,” he answered.

  Her heart sank, and the dreary soundtrack in her mind clicked on.

  You mean nothing to him.

  Ben released a tight breath. His response disappointed her. A pang of regret surged through him, but he ignored it. The years of losing baby after baby and then Sara’s suicide had left him paralyzed. He couldn’t even consider the idea of falling in love again. There was no place for that in his life. He was a father and an architect, and that had to be enough.

  But something was changing inside of him. He could feel it.

  The orderly life he’d constructed didn’t seem as solid anymore, and that had everything to do with Jenna.

  As Kate counted, he listened to the sound of Jenna’s footsteps above him. He heard her at the top of the steps. The old Tudor had its telltale creaks, and then the sound faded as she entered one of the front bedrooms.

  Finishing the count, Kate whispered for him to check upstairs while she looked downstairs. He could suggest Kate check her room and let his daughter find Jenna first, but he said nothing and nodded as Kate went to search the pantry. He walked up the stairs, and with every step, he wondered what the hell he was doing.

  He entered Kate’s room as the late afternoon sun streamed through the window. The closet door was slightly open, and Ben gave two soft taps to it with his knuckle. Pulling the door open, he found Jenna standing inside the small space among his daughter’s dresses. She stepped to the side to make room for him. The closet was a tight fit for two adults. Inches separated their bodies.

  Jenna gave him a nervous smile and tugged on the end of her braid. He pulled the door shut, the only light now coming from the narrow space between the door and the frame. She dropped her hands and clasped them in front of her, and his gaze went to the end of her braid where it came to rest near her exposed collarbone. Without thinking, he took her braid in his hand. He twisted the strands around his fingers, and his wrist brushed across her smooth skin.

  Jenna’s breath hitched. Her body inched closer. It was as if they’d traveled back in time to when they were teenagers, their bodies pressed together against that cold creek embankment. He’d wanted to kiss her then, and he still wanted that, now more than ever.

  She rested her hands on his biceps, and her touch ignited a flame inside of him. He slid his hand up past her collarbone to the back of her neck and tangled his fingers in her loose braid.

  Cradling the back of her head, he tilted it up. Only inches apart, he gazed at Jenna’s lips. She gasped as he tightened his grip in her hair, and his cock twitched. She was so warm, her body molded against his as her perfect breasts pressed into his chest. He was hard and so ready, his body wanting to take what his mind wouldn’t allow. God, he wanted to kiss her, taste her, rip off her panties and plunge himself deep inside her.

  “Ben,” Jenna said, barely whispering but loud enough to break through the haze clouding his mind.

  He leaned in and rested his forehead against hers. He needed to slow down. If he kept staring at her, he’d lose himself completely. He closed his eyes and inhaled the lavender scent of her hair, the sweet smell doing little to quell his growing need to have her.

  She pulled back and met his gaze.

  Could she see that he wanted her? Could she see the pain and darkness that lived in his soul?

  His hand still in her hair, Ben turned her head, angling it up to meet his lips. He was giving in to his desire and couldn’t hold himself back. He wrapped his arm around her, wanting to feel every inch of her lithe frame. He couldn’t even count the number of times he’d envisioned this scenario as a teenager. And then, when she didn’t come back to school, he’d worried she was just a figment of his imagination, the fantasy girl of a teenage boy.

  He brushed his thumb over her bottom lip, and she melted into his touch. Jenna’s sweet breath glided across his lips, and his mind barely registered a faint clomping sound. But as the noise grew louder, he came back to himself. It was Kate running up the stairs, the telltale top step’s squeak audibly chiding him for his reckless behavior.

  Jenna must have heard it, too. Her body tensed, and her hands fell to her sides. Ben eased back, dropping his arm from around her waist, but his treacherous fingers wouldn’t release their grasp of her golden hair.

  As the door opened, Kate let out an excited whoop. But upon closer inspection, she looked pointedly at his hand as he tried to untangle it from Jenna’s hair.

  A few seconds of silence passed then Kate trained her gaze on Jenna. “Will you braid my hair like yours, Jenna? All Daddy can do is a ponytail.”

  With Kate’s words, the spell was broken.

  Taking a breath, Jenna moved past Ben, making sure their bodies didn’t touch. “Sure, I can braid your hair. Can you get me a brush?”

  Kate skipped over to a white dresser and rummaged in the top drawer.

  Jenna’s heartbeat was racing, and her body ached to be back in Ben’s strong arms. Shaking her head, she forced herself to focus on Kate’s room as a distraction.

  The space was charming with periwinkle walls and a neat, little desk tucked in the corner equipped with an architect’s lamp just like the one Jenna had noticed on Ben’s desk. Kate’s bed had a beautiful quilt crafted in light blues, greens, and yellows. It was the kind of room that welcomed happy memories and sweet dreams. She walked over to Kate’s nightstand unable to tear her gaze away from the framed photo sitting prominently among Kate’s treasures.

  Kate bounded back, bou
ncing on her bed and landing next to Jenna. “That’s my mommy,” she said, pointing to the picture of a woman smiling brightly. “Her name is Sara. And that’s me,” she continued, pointing to the baby in the beautiful brunette’s arms. Her tone was matter of fact, and Jenna knew, with Kate losing her mother at such a young age, she probably didn’t have many real memories of her.

  What had happened to Sara, and why was she taken so young?

  Jenna recalled that Zoe had also been uncharacteristically tight-lipped about Ben’s deceased wife.

  “You have hair just like your mommy,” Jenna remarked, doing her best to keep her voice steady.

  Kate nodded and sat down in the middle of her bed. Jenna sat behind her, gently working the knots and tangles from the mass of thick chestnut hair.

  Kate called her father over. “Daddy, come watch Jenna so you can learn how to braid.”

  Ben was standing on the far side of the room, and Jenna didn’t dare glance up at him.

  As Jenna brushed through Kate’s hair, her mind went over what did and didn’t just happen in the closet. He had reached for her, right? She thought he was going to kiss her. But that didn’t matter. She’d let things go too far. She’d let her emotions take over when what she needed to be, now more than ever, was rational and pragmatic.

  Ben walked over and bent down to watch her work, and a shiver ran down her spine. She glanced up at him. His eyes were the dark blue of a stormy ocean at night. But he wasn’t looking at her. His gaze was trained on his daughter’s hair.

  Jenna released a steadying breath and finished the braid. From where they were seated on Kate’s bed, she could see their reflection in the mirror above the dresser.

  She gestured toward the mirror then smoothed Kate’s bangs across her forehead. “What do you think?”

  The little girl smiled. “I’m pretty like you.”

  Jenna returned the smile. “Even better. You’re pretty like you.”

  “Thank you, Jenna.” Kate turned and wrapped her arms around her neck.

  “Anytime,” Jenna whispered, trying to keep the emotion out of her voice. She had braided many of her students’ hair over the last ten years. The little girls used to flock to her, begging to have their hair done by the reading teacher. But there was something different about Kate.