His Brother's Keeper

Fired up by the win, his boys had been maniacs in the gym, fighting with total focus, every strike dead center, every kick razor sharp, happily doing all the reps he demanded and then some.

They would wipe the mats with their opponents at the upcoming tournament. Damn, he loved these kids. He would do what he had to do to keep coaching them. Step one was talking this through with Felicity.

He’d changed into a fresh T-shirt—one with sleeves so he’d look more civilized. He ran his fingers through his hair to clear the tangles. He needed a cut, but he was resisting his sisters’ offers to practice on him. He had no interest in having his initials shaved into his hair.

Through Felicity’s open door, he saw she stood on a table against the back wall trying to push up a window. She’d taken off her jacket and was stretched up on tiptoes, poised and graceful as a dancer. He made himself stop staring and cleared his throat.

She turned at the sound. “The window’s jammed.”

He climbed onto the table beside her, inches away. Her face was pink from the heat and there were dots of perspiration on her lips, which still held some gloss. She fanned her face, sending him waves of sweet-candy scent. “It gets stuffy in here.”

He braced his shoulder under the frame and shoved. With a wrenching shriek, the wood broke free and shot upward.

“Thank you,” she said, giving him a blast of those big blue eyes. Each one had a silver starburst in the middle. They held him in place, made him go so still he could hear his own heartbeat, possibly hers, too.

Now the window let in the smells of spring flowers and freshly mowed grass. Before Robert was killed, Gabe had loved this season. Now the new smells made him feel the old loss. He jumped off the table and offered Felicity a hand down.

She bent her knees to one side for modesty’s sake, making him fleetingly curious about her underwear. Would she go sexy, like his ex-girlfriend Adelia, who’d loved elaborate beaded silk numbers?

Simple and sensible were more her style, he’d bet. Maybe a little lace as a tease. He preferred sheer and easy to rip off. Or naked. Naked was the best underwear of all.

“Gabe?” Felicity looked at him strangely.

“Yeah?” He let go of her hand, which he’d held too long, and backed up so she could get to her desk.

FELICITY’S©PALM©RETAINED the warmth of Gabe’s grip even after he let go. He’d definitely been thinking about her that way. She’d felt a surge of unwelcome lust. There was no accounting for chemistry, she guessed.

On the other hand, Gabe was dead-on hot. Sexual confidence poured off him like body heat. With his dramatic features, long, tousled hair and that diamond stud in one ear, all he needed was a ruffled shirt to pass for a pirate.

Pirates were so sexy—dangerous and fierce, but also charming. When he smiled—and admittedly she’d only seen him do it when he’d thought he’d gotten the best of her at the protest—his features softened and his eyes lightened from espresso to dark caramel.

He was the classic bad boy. So not her thing. Though she wasn’t sure she had a thing. She didn’t seem to have much, well, passion, when it came to men. Or at least the men she’d dated so far.

Right now she had no time for a friction-means-fire moment. She had a major problem and she needed Gabe’s cooperation to solve it.

The humiliation of the police call in the middle of the district meeting was not the worst news she’d had that afternoon. Not even close.

Tom Brown had pulled her aside to tell her that due to a budget shortfall, the bulk of the funds he’d promised for her Enriched Learning System had been “redirected” to more crucial district needs.

In short, she’d been screwed.

She’d begun to suspect April might be right about the conspiracy against Discovery. During the meeting Felicity had picked up hostility toward the alternative schools and caught definite eye rolls during her report. Some important people expected her to fail—maybe even wanted her to.

Now she was frustrated and outraged and scared. She’d known she had an uphill battle. But she hadn’t expected to have someone dynamite the ground out from under her.

She’d held a faculty meeting as soon as school was dismissed that first day to lay out the tenets of her program. She’d watched their faces go from resistant to curious to wary to almost hopeful. When she’d told them Tom had promised district funds to implement it, their faces had plain lit up.

But that turned out to be a lie. When her staff found out, they would think her a blowhard, a liar, a fool or all three. Felicity would seem weak, maybe even her uncle’s flunky, part of the plot to sink the school.

She had to turn this around. She saw a way through Gabe. All she had to do was get him to agree.

“So, are we good?” Gabe asked, bracing his hip against her desk, arms folded. He was acting casual, but he homed in, assessing her for weak spots, like an opponent in his boxing ring. “We ducked the news like you wanted.”

She decided to emphasize her losses, make him feel guilty. “But not the police. Now my bosses think I had to quell a riot.”

“The kids didn’t call the cops.”

“No. They just created the disturbance that drew them.”

“Anyway, you handled that well. You took the boys seriously. You talked to Alex with respect. That was good for them.”

“You think so? And what was the lesson? That blackmail works? Threaten media exposure and the principal will fold?” She felt angry all over again. “We both know what happened. You played me and hijacked half my Institute space for eight entire weeks.”

“True.” He had the decency to look sheepish.

“That said, I need to clarify some things.” She’d start with the easy part. “First, I arranged with the district to use group liability coverage until you get the forms from each kid. But we do need the forms.”

“Great. I appreciate that. You’ll get them.” He seemed startled by her concession.

“Also, I’ll need my half of the room cleared out by next Wednesday, when I want to start the Institute.”

“We can give you some space, but—”

“Fifty-fifty. We agreed. Also, you’ll need to keep the noise down so we’ll be able to hold discussions and run workshops.”

“We’re training. We hit bags and toss tires. It’s loud.” He frowned, shifting his weight, not happy about what she was saying.

“Make an effort.”

He just looked at her. “Is that it?”

“There’s one more thing.” She took a deep breath before delivering the blow. “I’m going to need you to pay rent.”

“Rent? What the hell?” He pushed to his feet, as if braced for battle.

“Don’t loom over me, please. Sit down so we can discuss this.”

He stalked around the desk and dropped into the chair. “Rent was not part of the deal.”

“It is now. I lost my funding. Your rent will help cover it.” It would get her through the end of the year, she hoped, if she was brutally frugal. After that, she had no idea what she’d do. Hope for a budget boost? A grant? A charity? A miracle?

“How much?” he said through gritted teeth.

“We can be reasonable. Five dollars a square foot is well below current rates. With you using five hundred square feet, that’s $2,500 a month.”

“You’re crazy.”

“You charge fees, don’t you?”