Snow Angel (The Hope Falls Chronicles) (31 page)

“I love you,” he whispered against her skin, love and determination filling his entire being. His heart

ached for what Lily had been through, and it made him crazy thinking of her being scared and alone. He

didn’t know how she had survived it, but he did know one thing for sure. She wasn’t alone anymore. He

was going to spend the rest of his life protecting her, caring for her, and loving her.

And kissing her…against a wall.

Sneak Peek: Snow Days

“No, no, no, no. It
has
to be here,” Amy said under her breath as she crouched down to look under the wooden table in the middle of the tiny teacher’s lounge.

Not
there
.

Lifting the cushions of the tattered mauve couch that sat in the corner, she frantically searched even

though logically she knew there was no way her bag could have gotten wedged there. It was too big.

Putting her weight against the corner, she shoved the couch about a foot away from the wall to see if it

had fallen down in the back behind it.

No luck.

Adrenaline rushed through her veins like a flash flood. The pounding of her heart was so hard she

thought it might actually come right through her chest. She spun slowly in a circle as her eyes scanned

every surface, corner, and crevice of the small space.

It’s not here
.

Trying to calm herself down, she concentrated on steadying her breaths. It was quiet—almost too quiet.

The only sound in the room was her labored breathing. Her mind raced with the consequences of her

careless actions.

What if the administration found it? What if the janitor found it? What if a student found it?

She had to find it. She. Had. To.

Breathing in through her nose and out through her mouth slowly, she mentally retraced her steps. She’d

had her bag this morning at her desk. She’d had it at lunch, which she’d spent here in the lounge. She’d had it on her prep hour when she’d met the new history teacher, Mr. Kellan.

Oh, boy, Mr. Matt Kellan.
A shiver ran down her spine at just the thought of him.

Wait! That’s it!
She’d stuffed it under the desk when Principal Walters had come in to introduce her to the newest addition to the staff and inform her that they would now be sharing her room during fifth period for their prep period.

It had to still be there.

Not wasting a second, she flew out of the door. Her feet squeaked on the polished tile floor of the hall

as she power-walked, double-timing it to get to room 207. Her body tensed as a loud slam sounded behind

her from the heavy door to the teacher’s lounge. You had to hold that sucker until it shut or it shook the

entire floor.

Thank God the halls were deserted. It was well past the time that the students and most of the teachers

and staff had gone home for the day. She would have been on her way as well, if she hadn’t been stuck at a

parent-teacher meeting.

Amy tried to block out that little voice in her head that was screaming,
Why did you bring such sensitive
material to school?

She was a smart girl. She should have known better. What in the world had she been thinking?

She hadn’t been—that was the problem. Since embarking on this project, she found that the entire

process of self-discovery had kind of taken over her life. She was consumed by it. Completely. And now she may have put her job at risk.

Damn
.

Holding on to the glimmer of hope that her bag would safely be sitting under her desk, she took a deep,

fortifying breath as she turned the metal handle and pulled the heavy door open. Stepping inside, she

rushed towards her desk. Looking up, she was stopped cold in her tracks. She stopped breathing. Her

stomach dropped to the floor.

This can’t be happening.

The new teacher. The new, ridiculously good-looking teacher. The new, ridiculously good-looking

married teacher was sitting at her—or their—desk with her notebooks scattered about, wide open in front

of God and everyone.

“Are you okay, Ms. Maguire?” Mr. Kellan asked, his sea green eyes widening with concern.

Calm. She had to stay calm. Maybe he hadn’t read any of her research. Maybe there was another

explanation for them being displayed on the desktop. Clearing her throat to steady her voice, she said, “You can call me Amy. Mr. Kellan—”

“Please, call me Matt.” A disarming smile appeared on his sun-kissed face, showcasing a deep dimple in

his right cheek.

Amy had to stop herself from swooning.

Shaking her head slightly to clear it, she decided that the best course of action was to get in and out of

there. No reason to prolong her embarrassment. She had no idea what he had read and it really didn’t

matter. She was here to grab her things—no need to make a big deal about it. “Matt, I just forgot my bag

and was coming back to get it.”

She began quickly closing the notebooks as she collected them. She moved around the desk to grab her

bag so she wouldn’t be awkwardly balancing fifteen notebooks in her arms. Moving out of her way, Matt

stood slowly with ease, and that’s when it happened. She smelled him.

Not able to stop herself, Amy took in a deep breath through her nose. He had a unique scent of Irish

Spring soap, fabric softener, olive oil, and well…just man. He smelled utterly, deliciously male, causing a flutter deep in her belly.

When she realized that she had just been lusting after his scent, her eyes flew up to his. He was staring

down at her in what looked like disbelief. She started to think that maybe she should apologize for her

thoughts, considering that he was a married man. But that was ridiculous. There was no way he was a mind

reader.

He wasn’t moving and she couldn’t reach her bag. Scooting around him seemed dangerous since her

body seemed to be having a very strong reaction to him. “Excuse me,” she said as she reached her arm out

and pressed her body even closer to the desk in an effort to avoid any actual physical contact.

He remained still. She wasn’t sure what to do. She felt sort of stuck. If she moved at all, she might

accidently brush up against him.

Finally, motioning to the stack of notebooks she held in her right arm, he asked, “Those are yours?”

Amy felt her throat begin to close as her palms grew damp. She had always been a fiercely private person, and these notebooks held information more personal than any diary or journal she’d had growing

up. And she’d kept those in a locked safe. With two older brothers and a little sister, she hadn’t had much choice.

Knowing that this man she’d just met today and would have to see every day when they shared a prep

period had seen the contents made her a little dizzy with anxiety. But this was as a good an opportunity as she might ever get to assert herself and own her actions. Which were two things she’d been trying to

improve on.

“Yes.” Her voice was thankfully coming out much stronger than she actually felt. “They are.”

His perfect dark brows knitted together as he took a step back. “For what class?”

“They aren’t for a class. They’re personal.” Amy used the space he’d created when he’d been taken

aback—literally—to turn and gather her things.

“Oh.” He exhaled a short breath before explaining. “I kicked the bag under the desk and they all came

tumbling out. When I picked one up, well, what I saw caught my attention, and then I admit I was curious

so I looked through a few. But there were no names. I had no idea it was your bag, your notebooks. I’m

sorry,” he apologized.

“It’s fine,” Amy replied. She was so glad that her back was to him since she would bet her last dollar

that her face was as bright red as Rudolf’s nose.

After returning all of her materials safely to her satchel, she pulled the wide straps up on her shoulder

and began moving to the door, not looking back. “Have a nice night. And, um, welcome to Hope Falls

High.”

“Amy.”

Her name on his lips caused the butterfly flutters she’d been feeling to turn into a heavy pulse.

Uh oh.

She needed to get out of there. Now. But she couldn’t be rude just because she was beyond humiliated

and inappropriately attracted to her new, married colleague.

Standing up a little straighter and gathering the last bit of her dignity, she turned on her heels to face

him. “Yes?”

“Can I ask you something?” His voice was even, but the look in his eye sent Amy’s heart racing.

“Of course.” Her voice, however, was not sounding quite as strong as it had a few moments before.

“What are you doing with all of that?” His tone held not one hint of judgment in it—only curiosity.

“It’s a project I’m working on.”

He again motioned to her bag. “So those are interviews you’ve conducted?”

Her hands tightened around the cloth straps. She couldn’t believe someone else had seen her work.

Swallowing hard and trying not to let the tornado of panic she felt growing inside get out of hand, she

simply answered honestly. “Yes.”

“Are you only interviewing women?”

“So far, all of my interview subjects have been women.”

“Is it a controlled case study?”

Amy’s fingers relaxed from their tight fisted grip and she let out a forced laugh. “Not really. It’s just that the only guys I know to ask would be my friends’ significant others or my brothers—neither of which I

really want to interview.”

“What about me?” Matt’s eyes sparked with interest, and Amy felt her fingers once again contract.

“I don’t think, um… Don’t you… Shouldn’t you ask your wife before agreeing to—”

“I’m not married…anymore.” Matt’s expression fell and his eyes cast down as he turned his wedding

ring in a circle with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m a widow. I lost my wife five years ago in a car

accident.”

“Oh.” Amy felt like all of the air in the room had just been sucked out. She was completely at a loss as

to what to say but wanted to say something. “I’m sure you always hear this but I am so sorry for your loss.

I can’t even begin to imagine…”

“Thank you.”

His emerald green eyes lifted to hers and the raw pain she saw there broke her heart into a million

pieces.

“So can I participate in your study?” he asked.

“What?” Confusion swam in Amy’s head.

“Would you like to interview me?”

She searched his eyes to see if he was serious. He had to be. Why would he joke about this? But why

would a man she’d just met want to do this?

As if reading her mind, he shrugged. “The data you’re collecting looks interesting, and it might be a nice

distraction.”

Oh, okay. That made sense. She reached up and touched the bridge of her nose, forgetting that she no

longer wore glasses. Shifting her weight as she pulled her bag up higher on her shoulder, she answered,

“Sure. Just let me know what a good time for you would be.”

“How about now?”

“Now?” Her heart slammed in her chest.

His mouth tilted into a crooked smile and that dang dimple made another appearance. “Unless you’re

busy.”

Her hands began to shake and her stomach felt like it had the one and only time she’d gone on a roller

coaster. Taking a deep breath, she tried to steady her rioting nerves. She could do this. It was just another interview. And the male point of view would be very helpful.

An unmarried point of view.

“Now’s fine.” She quickly moved to take a seat at one of the student’s desks but Matt stopped her.

“Sit here, please.” He pulled out the chair behind the desk, drawing her attention to his muscled

forearms. Matt was wearing a black V-neck sweater with the sleeves rolled up, and Amy had a hard time

not drooling over the sculpted perfection of his masculine arms.

As she passed by him, she brushed against him. Feeling the hair on his chiseled forearm sent a chill

dancing through her. Then, as she sat down on her ergonomic chair, she once again smelled his intoxicating scent, causing her body to hum as Matt moved to the other side of the desk. A little voice piped up in her

head,
he’s not married.

Deciding to ignore her body’s reactions and inner voice, she pulled out her last blank notebook from

her bag and opened it.

This is just another interview
, she reminded herself.

“What do you find sexy?” she asked, looking down at the lined paper while holding the pen in her

hand, waiting to record his response. After a few moments, she looked up to see if the question may have

offended him or if he was just too uncomfortable to answer.

Her mouth went dry when she saw Matt’s stare fixed on her, his lips tilting into a slight grin, and not

one but two deep dimples embedded in his cheeks.

Oh boy.