Teach Me Like That (LMLT Book 2) (3 page)

My pulse is almost back to normal as I use my teacher ID badge to unlock my door and step inside. I only have a few minutes to myself before my tiny wards start making their way into the classroom. I greet each child and parent by name.

Some parents still look apprehensive about dropping their pride and joy off at school, whereas others can’t get out of the classroom fast enough. Those kids I keep a closer eye on. Those children are the ones who concrete my decision to become a teacher; the ones who even with the money their parents have are sometimes left without the comfort and love every child deserves.

“Thank you,” I tell one parent as they hand over yet another huge bag of classroom supplies.

As they kiss their child goodbye for the day, I work to make room for the new bag amongst the overabundance of supplies other parents have left. Too much is always a good thing when it comes to supplies for the classroom, but parents at this school aren’t supposed to bring supplies. Their pricey tuition is to pay for all things needed in the classroom.

The school’s supply closet, however, has seen better days. That’s a stretch of the truth. The closet is all but empty, and on only the fourth day of school, it’s concerning. I’m not complaining about the supplies being brought by parents because Lord knows we need them, but finding a place for it all is posing a problem.

The classrooms are designed for minimal distractions. Even the kindergarten classes have very little storage space and shelving. I’ve piled everything as neatly as I can in a corner of the room, but I’m going to have to get creative to get it under control.

I would love to say most people are bringing the supplies out of the goodness of their hearts, but unfortunately, that’s not the case. Some parents do, don’t get me wrong, but many of the others see one parent bring supplies, and they have to compete with them by bringing even more than the first did.

I smile when I turn back around and see two of my favorite students walk through the door. Anastyn and Lennox Cole are the sunshine in my day. I know teachers aren’t supposed to have favorites, but hey, I’m only human.

“Girls, take your assigned seats,” I tell them.

They each chime back with a very respectful, “Yes, ma’am,” and do as they’re instructed.

My attention is then turned to the incredibly handsome man who escorted them in, definitely not their father, who is also extremely handsome in his own right.

He seems entranced when he looks at me, and I know my cheeks pink from the piercing blue gaze he’s burning me with.

I smile and look down at his hands which are holding several bags of supplies.

“That for me?” I ask. My voice is huskier than it normally is. I clear my throat hoping he didn’t notice

“What! No!” he says quickly taking a step back. I watch slightly confused as he shifts the purple bags in front of his body.

I cock my head to the side indicating my confusion. “The bags of Kleenex and Ziploc bags aren’t for the classroom?”

He looks down at his hands as if he’s forgotten he was even holding the bags. Odd duck this one. “Oh! Yeah, sorry,” he says holding the bags out to me.

I take the bags from his hands and can’t hide the gasp that escapes my lips when my hand touches his.

Cliché right?

Should I be thinking this man is my long lost soul mate? Fat chance. One, because I don’t believe in that mess. Two, this man has a glint in his eye that informs me he’s nothing but a playboy. Three, any sort of relationship with family members of the children, no matter how much I’d entertain the idea of a fling with this man, is absolutely against the rules.

I smile politely as his eyes wander from my sandaled feet to the pulse point in my neck that is working overtime just at his proximity.

“How do you do it?” he asks with a voice deeper than I would’ve imagined.

“I’m sorry. What?” I ask forcing my eyes away from his beard and perfectly pouty lips.

“How do you get them to behave?” He tilts his head and indicates Anastyn and Lennox.

I smile when I look over at the girls. “Those two angels?”

He huffs rudely. “Angels my ass,” he mutters.

“They’re two of my best students,” I say somewhat offended. “They have better manners than many adults I’ve met.”
Present company included
.

He shakes his head in disbelief. “They are total monkeys around me.”

“And you are?” I let the question hang.

I could say I’m asking because I want to know all of the parents and guardians who are picking up and dropping off the kids, but honestly, I really want to know his name. He looks quite similar to their father, Kadin Cole, but younger. The family resemblance is remarkable, but this man less refined. He doesn’t have the tired eyes of a father.

It’s uncanny how I’m attracted to this man, yet not his brother. Don’t get me wrong Kadin Cole is extremely handsome, but knowing he’s married, happily if the way he looks at his wife is any indication, puts him on the no-fly list and practically shuts down any attraction I have. It’s the same with all the fathers, even the unmarried ones. These men are off-limits. I just wish my body was listening right now.

“Kegan,” he says offering his hand. “Kegan Cole.”

I take his hand in mine for a quick shake. “I’m their uncle; Kadin’s younger, more handsome brother,” he says bringing my hand to his lips.

I jerk it back before his undoubtedly soft lips can brush against my knuckles.

“Lexi Carter,” I say, the huskiness returning to my voice.

“See you around, Lexi,” he says with a wink and walks out of the classroom.

I blow out a long breath I didn’t even realize I was holding. It isn’t until the door opens again and I’m hoping Kegan Cole is walking back in, that I snap out of my daze.

It’s the beard
, I think as I smile at the next group of students who enter the classroom. Minutes later, fifteen children demand all of my attention, and I forget about Kegan Cole.

Kegan

Green eyes. Dark brown hair.

Two things I couldn’t pull my mind from as I left Lexi Carter’s classroom. Two things I pictured when Amelia stopped me just before I left Edgewood Academy. She was keen for whatever I might have had on my mind as I entered the school.

She made sure her breasts were all but on display when she approached me. Usually, they would’ve distracted me, but for some reason, all I could think as I looked at her was how inappropriate her attire was for school. What kind of woman wears such a low-cut top and stiletto heels to work in a school?

The question in my head was rhetorical because I knew just what kind of woman she was. Difference is, that kind of woman holds no interest for me today, not after leaving the classroom of the most incredible woman I’ve ever had the pleasure of laying eyes on.

I shut Amelia down as politely as possible, regretting ever having touched her in the first place.

Regret. That’s a new emotion for me, not on I’m very familiar with.

Amelia was a tigress in bed. I should’ve realized that her aggression between the sheets couldn’t help but spill over into everyday encounters. Hell, the woman grabbed my cock within the first fifteen minutes of meeting me a few months back. I didn’t mind, and I thought it was awesome that she didn’t seem to mind when I bent her over her desk thirty minutes after that and fucked her stupid.

I know what you’re thinking. I’m disgusting for fucking the headmistress in a school, but it was summertime with not a student in sight. Even I have standards, as low as they may be. You’ll think even less of me when you’re informed that her pussy wasn’t quite tight enough, even for my package, but she had no problem with a little anal action.

That wasn’t the issue, though. Fucking a woman I just met is no big deal. Going back for more, less than a week later was the mistake.

Twice was enough. As exciting as she was at the moment, she wasn’t anything I committed to memory. Hell, when Kadin mentioned her this morning, I couldn’t even remember her face. Her tits and ass? That was a whole other story. She has some of the nicest tits I’ve ever seen, the best that money can buy.

I frown as I pull up to the Westover project. This is an older community, but we’ve been hired to demolish an old home and build one of our cabins in its place. Our log cabins are known all over the world. It’s still going to look out of place in this neighborhood, but rich people get what rich people pay for.

The issue really isn’t building in this neighborhood, not for me at least. The problem with these older neighborhoods is dealing with all of the complications that come with it. People don’t seem to mind when a beautiful new house is in their neighborhood, but they don’t like the process that it takes to put it there. Noise complaints and just general bitchiness about the chaos that surrounds building in an established neighborhood is something I have to deal with daily.

I turn my truck off and take a deep breath. My foreman is on his phone and the entire crew is taking a break under a tree. This is the kind of shit that frustrates the hell out of me. It’s way too damn early in the morning for no one to be working.

I walk up to Tony, my foreman on this project and a man I’ve considered a close friend for many years.

I raise my eyebrows to him in a ‘what the fuck’ expression.

“This house should be halfway, if not completely, torn down by now. What gives?” I ask with a frown looking over at the ten guys shooting the shit under a tree to the left of the property. I checked on this place yesterday. It was all but gutted when I stopped by on the way home from the other job site.

Tony shakes his head quickly, and I already know what the fucking problem is.

“Asbestos,” he mutters as my mind says the same thing.

“How did we miss that?” Our inspector comes out to every demo job and is supposed to go through it with a fine-tooth comb so we can plan the best course of action.

“It’s only a little bit, and it was tucked away in that weird room in the attic. I’d say since it’s such a small amount we could just ignore it,” Tony says.

I narrow my eyes at him. He knows we don’t operate like that. We follow the letter of the law at all times on our job sites. It’s one of the reasons we’ve managed to stay on top in the industry.

He holds his hands up in mock surrender. “Don’t look at me like that. I’ve already called our guy in to come take care of it. I know you and Kadin would have my ass and my job if I didn’t.”

I nod at him. He may have an opinion about alternative ways to handle situations, but he’d never actually do it.

“Might as well get these other guys over to the project on Lamar Street. No sense in them sitting around all day.”

I stand quietly as Tony rounds up his guys and directs them to the other project we have going on locally. I enjoy seeing their smiles. They’d rather be working than sitting idle all day. Not that they wouldn’t enjoy a break, but time drags ass just sitting around.

Asbestos removal will set the project back a full day, so I know what I’ll be doing on Saturday and it won’t be sleeping late and watching the college football game like I’d planned.

I’m waiting around for the asbestos contractor to arrive when my cell phone rings.

Kadin.

“You must have heard about the asbestos,” I say in place of a hello.

“What?” he says, confusion marking his voice.

“Tony’s crew found asbestos in the attic of the demo house on Westover.”

“You handling it?” he asks.

“Of course.”

“Listen,” he begins.

I sigh. Every time my brother is going to say something he knows I’m not going to like he begins with that word.

“I need you to pick the girls up from school at three,” he continues. “London didn’t like the answer the pediatrician gave her, so we’re sitting in the emergency room at Sacred Hearts Children’s Hospital.”

“What the hell is going on with that kid?”

It has to be something because London isn’t one to get overly concerned when the kids get sick. She was at first with Anastyn, but she’s calmed down drastically over the years.

“We don’t know, but he’s only gotten worse. I’ll let you know as soon as we find something out. We could be here for hours.”

“Hours. You want me to take care of them for hours?” I can’t hide the fear in my voice. They could murder me and dump the body in a couple hours.

He chuckles into the phone. I’d punch his shoulder if he was standing beside me. This is no joking matter.

“Mom will be by your house around six to get them.”

Three hours. I can handle three hours, I think.

“Okay,” I agree. What else can I do? I’d never tell him no, no matter how fearful I am.

“You have to feed them,” Kadin says.

“I have salmon and asparagus planned for dinner. There’s enough for them too.”

“You know damn good and well that’s not going to work. You need to think simpler than that. I’d go with fish sticks and macaroni and cheese,” he offers in suggestion.

“I don’t have shit like that at my house.” He knows this.

“Well, take them to McDonald’s or something. You’ll have a fight on your hands if you try salmon and asparagus. Lennox wouldn’t eat anything green even if she was promised a pony.” From the sound of his voice, I’d bet my condo that he’s tried something like that before.

“That shit is going to stunt their growth,” I chastise.

“Don’t give me that shit. They don’t eat crap like that often. London has gotten very skilled with hiding vegetables and healthy shit in their food, but unless you have time to puree carrots and bake a damn meatloaf, I suggest you give it a rest this one time.”

He’s right; I’m not a parent and have no idea of the daily struggles they go through with such tiny, picky eaters. I know you can’t force a kid to eat. I also know that I still gag when I smell cooked spinach. I blame my mother for that.

I resist giving him advice on a subject I know nothing about and smile when I realize I’m heading back to Edgewood Academy this afternoon. I may be picking up two tiny tornadoes, but I’m also going to see Lexi Carter again. Getting another glimpse of her is almost worth the violent death I’m sure to suffer before my mom can get the girls.