The Marine's Kiss. Shirley Jump
he, ah, he couldn’t make it.”
Dr. Davis arched an eyebrow. “Really? I was under the impression he was eager to help.”
“I think your idea of bringing him in was a wonderful one,” Jenny began, weaving speeches number two and number eleven together on the fly, “and I think the kids would really respond to something like that. The boys’ top choices in books are almost always hero-related.”
The other woman frowned. “I can hear a ‘but’ in your voice.”
“But unfortunately, Mr. Dole—”
“Was running a little late this morning.” Nate entered the room, bearing his weight against a cane. A cane? She hadn’t noticed one yesterday.
Had he been injured? If so, that would explain why gung-ho, always-another-mission-to-take-on Nate was home for more than a minute.
She’d expected him to wear his uniform and was surprised to see him instead in a light-blue dress shirt and navy pants. He looked good, always had. Her heart, which didn’t seem to listen to her head or the warning siren telling her not to notice how he looked, skipped a beat at the sight of him.
“My apologies, Miss Wright and Dr. Davis.” He nodded toward each of them.
“I’m glad you could make it.” The principal extended her hand to shake his. “Miss Wright was under the impression you weren’t coming.”
“Just a misunderstanding.” He grinned. “I’m here and ready to help.”
“Good. I’ll get out of your way then.” Dr. Davis gave him a smile, then left the room.
Once the principal was gone, Jenny turned to Nate. His face, she’d realized yesterday, looked older now, more tired, as if the weight of the world wasn’t sitting so easily on his shoulders anymore. For a fleeting second, she wanted to reach out and make it easier for him.
She quickly shook off the thought. The days when she’d supported Nate were far in the past, and she intended to leave them that way. “What are you doing here?” she asked.
“Helping you.”
“When I left yesterday, you didn’t seem interested.”
“I, ah, had some time to think it over.” He took a seat on the edge of a desk. “I’m here for a week. Do with me what you will.” He grinned.
A week. She could last a few days in his presence and not lose her mind or her heart again.
Couldn’t she?
Jenny crossed her arms and leaned against the blackboard. “I don’t buy it. You’re as stubborn as a mule and once you’ve made up your mind, you never change it.”
“It’s been a long time, Jenny,” he said quietly. “People change.”
“Yes, they do.” She picked up a piece of chalk and turned it over and over in her palm. “Sometimes.”
The silence stood between them like a gate waiting to be unlocked. His deep-brown gaze met hers and she had to look away before all the thoughts she’d had over the last ten years came rushing to the surface.
I am over him.
But when she turned again to draw in the face that had once been as familiar as her own, she knew Nate wasn’t the only liar in the room.
“Knock, knock.” Debbie stuck her head in the room. “Oh, hi. I didn’t know you had company, Jenny.”
“Come on in.” Jenny stepped forward and waved the other third-grade teacher into the room. If she had to, she would have dragged Debbie in. Anything to ease the growing tension between herself and Nate.
It’s over between us. Maybe she needed to put that on a sign and wear it around her neck as a reminder.
“I’m Nate Dole,” he said, putting out his hand to the slim brunette. “I’m here to help with Jenny’s class for a few days.”
Debbie’s hazel eyes sparked to life and a wide smile took over her face when she took his hand in hers. “Well, if you ever run out of things to do, my classroom’s right next door.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nate said. Their hand-shake—which seemed to last for hours—finally ended.
Jenny shouldn’t have felt an ounce of jealousy. Nate had every right to flirt with another woman, kiss another woman, marry another—
No, his left hand was bare. He was still single.
She would not acknowledge the relief that flooded her at that thought.
“Well,” Jenny said. “Mr. Dole and I need to re-organize the day. The children will be here in seventeen minutes and once they arrive, there won’t be any time to breathe.”
“Yeah, I better get to my own class.” But Debbie didn’t move.
Jenny opened the connecting door. “See you at lunch.”
“Oh, yeah, lunch.” Debbie shook her head, then turned to Nate. “Will you be here at lunch?”
“If Jenny wants me to be,” he said.
Both of them turned to look at her. She wondered what was on the menu today and if Debbie would look good wearing it, then bit back the evil-twin thoughts. She was not jealous. Not one bit. “He doesn’t have to stay all day.”
“Oh, too bad,” Debbie said. “I’m sure the…the, ah, students will really enjoy him being around. A big, tall guy like you.” She gave him a smile and leaned against the doorframe. “You’re a marine, I hear.”
“Debbie?” Jenny said, laying the hint heavy in her voice. “I really need to rework my lesson plan for today.”
“Yeah, sure. Me, too.” Debbie dispensed another smile Nate’s way, toothy as a Miss America contestant. “Have a nice day. If you need anything—”
“You’re right next door,” he finished for her.
Jenny distinctly heard the sound of Debbie sighing as she disappeared into her own classroom. With a firm shove, Jenny shut the door.
“Now, let’s talk about the real reason why you’re here,” she began. “It’s not altruism.”
He grinned at her, as if he’d seen the spark in her eyes when Debbie had flirted with him. “To help you.”
“I know you, Nate. You and children mix about as well as an elephant in a roomful of mice. I don’t think so.” She tapped her lip with her finger. “There’s more to you showing up here than a nudge from your mother. I’d be willing to bet on it.”
“Maybe.” His grin widened, giving nothing away. “If you want to bet, we could make it interesting.”
“This is an elementary school, remember? Nothing R-rated allowed.”
“Too bad.”
Jenny got out a stack of math fact review worksheets and began putting one on each child’s desk for early-morning work. It was easier to do that than to focus on the teasing glint in his eyes. “Believe me, you won’t be having any R-rated thoughts in a little while. Once those kids get hold of you, your brain will become mush and your body will beg for a nap.”
“I’ve been through wars. I can handle a bunch of kids.”
“A war is nothing compared to twenty-five third-graders.”
“Jenny, I’m a marine, remember? I can handle it, believe me.”
She paused and turned to him. “I’m going to take such pleasure in saying ‘I told you so’ later on today.” She thrust the pile at him. “Here, finish putting these on the desks so I can get the vocabulary words up on the board.”
He slid off the desk and hobbled