Romancing The Wallflower

He wished he could. Getting involved with this woman—in any capacity other than as his nephew’s teacher—was sure to be trouble for both of them. Why couldn’t he make himself walk away?

“No one,” he said softly, unable to resist stepping into her space again, “would have to force a man to ask you out.”

It was her turn to laugh, but there was no humor in it. All the light was gone from her golden eyes, and he wanted nothing more in life at that moment than to reignite it. “I know who I am, David.”

He lifted his hands to cup her cheeks and felt a slight shiver pass through her. It drove him crazy with need. “Take another look,” he said, and touched his lips to hers.

* * *

Erin’s eyes drifted closed even as her body opened like the petals of a flower unfurling in the warm sunshine. Take another look? She’d planned to hold on to this moment like a priceless piece of art. If she could she’d frame it and hang it on her wall so she could always remember.

David McCay was kissing her, and quite thoroughly at that. His lips were soft but firm as they glided over hers and she couldn’t resist darting her tongue into his mouth. He rewarded that bit of bravery with a small groan, which made sparks dance across her skin. She leaned into him, her breath hitching when his fingers laced through her hair and tugged gently.

A whistle from a passing car made her wrest away from his embrace. She squeezed her hands into fists and pressed them to her sides when all she wanted was to wrap herself around him and hang on for dear life.

“Women like you don’t do PDAs on the sidewalk,” he said, his voice rougher than normal.

She bit down on the inside of her cheek and looked up at him through her lashes. “I don’t make it a habit,” she admitted. The truth was she’d never before had the opportunity. But it was Friday night and it wouldn’t be good for one of her students or another teacher to catch her in a full-blown make-out session on a public sidewalk.

“Too good for me,” David repeated, and Erin realized he’d actually meant the words when he’d said them earlier.

Her ex had said something similar when he’d broken up with her, but the insinuation behind the comment had been quite different. Good had been another way of saying boring. But if the heat in David’s gaze was any indication, he didn’t find her the least bit boring.

Erin’s long-suffering ego broke out into a little happy dance, but she quickly pulled the plug on the music. “That isn’t true,” she said, pressing a hand to lips still tingling from his kiss.

“You asked me for an affair, sweetheart.” He smoothed a loose strand of hair away from her face. “Not a date. We both know what that means.”

“Would you have gone out on a date if I’d asked?”

He shook his head, and she tried to ignore the pang of disappointment that snaked through her.

“You’re a white-picket-fence girl. America and apple pie. What you saw at my sister’s apartment pretty much sums up how I was raised. I come from that world. It’s what I know.”

Right now that didn’t matter. This man had flirted with her, then kissed her senseless. Twenty minutes with David had been more exciting than the sum total of the rest of her life. Heck no, she couldn’t have an affair with him, even if he was willing. She was liable to spontaneously combust. It was time to get the subject back to safer ground.

“How’s Rhett doing?” she asked, reaching into her purse for her keys. She moved to the edge of the sidewalk where her Subaru hatchback was parked at the curb.

“He’s with his mom tonight. They’re staying at my loft.”

“Is your sister okay with going into treatment?”

He nodded. “Deep in her heart she doesn’t want to repeat the mistakes our mother made. I have to believe last night was a wake-up call for her.”

“Then maybe it was a blessing in disguise. I hope she gets the help she needs.” She hit the remote start on her key fob.

“I hope Rhett and I survive the next month together.” He ran a hand over his jaw and the scratching sound made her want to whimper. She was truly pathetic.

“He’s welcome at Crimson Kidzone in the afternoon. It starts Monday at four. Sign him up if you need a break.”

When he stared at her, she held out a hand. “No strings attached or indecent proposals from me. Promise.”

He took her hand but instead of shaking it, pressed a lingering kiss on her knuckles. “That would be a huge disappointment.”

Erin sighed. Cue the weak knees. “You don’t mean that,” she whispered.

“I might have enough willpower to leave you alone, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be thinking about how good we could be together.”

He released her hand and she clutched it against her stomach, feeling ridiculously like a teenage girl who wanted to hold on to the imprint of that kiss. “Good to know,” she told him.

He winked at her. “Night, Erin. Sweet dreams.”

* * *

“Seriously, McCay? Your nephew’s kindergarten teacher?”

David blew out a breath at the annoyance in the feminine voice behind him.

He hoisted a bushel of hops over his shoulder and turned. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Tracie, but I promised Rhett I’d take him fishing after thirty minutes of screen time so I need to make the most of my electronic babysitter.”

It was early Sunday morning—too early considering David hadn’t gotten to sleep until after 3:00 a.m. He’d paid one of the waitresses to babysit his nephew last night, which had left him short-staffed since his best—if mouthiest—bartender Tracie Sheldon had taken the evening off for a date with the local orthopedic surgeon who’d been asking her out for months.

Tracie stood behind him now, wearing running shorts and a long-sleeved athletic shirt. Her short blond hair stuck out from under a bright pink headband and he guessed she’d stopped into the bar in the middle of her daily five-mile run.

“Besides, shouldn’t you be busy basking in post-date glow or doing the walk of shame or something?”

“I’m not that kind of girl,” she shot back, then added softly, “anymore. Besides, it wasn’t a good match.”

With a quiet sigh, David dropped the heavy bag to the floor. “Why not? Your doctor has bellied up to the bar several nights a week for the past month, even when he’s on call and drinking root beer. We might serve up a helluva plate of chicken wings and some crazy good nachos, but there’s only so much bar food a man can take.”

He leaned in closer. “Unless he has another compelling reason for becoming a regular.”

“Compelling.” Tracie snorted. “Right. He’s a surgeon, Davey, my boy. I’m a high-school dropout bartender. We have nothing in common.”

“I’ve spent some time talking to Luke Baylor. He’s a decent guy, Tracie. Worked his way through med school. You work hard, and you’re not a high-school dropout anymore. It won’t be long until you graduate nursing school. You should hold your head high.”

“So tell me about the schoolteacher,” she countered, placing her hands on her hips.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard, but there’s nothing to tell.”

“Do you like her?”

“Do you like Doc Luke?”

She arched a brow. “We had dinner at Carlo’s Bistro last night. Remember Lance who washed dishes here for a while?”

“Yeah.” David nodded. “Punk kid.”

“That’s the one. He’s a busboy at Carlo’s and was all too happy to stop me on the way to the restroom and report he saw you and a dark-haired librarian type sucking face on the street.”