***
At lunchtime, the scent of seasoned meat and fried potatoes mingled with the roar of chattering children as I stood with them in line, corralling my kids with a practiced eye. Sliding my tray along the metal rails like my students, I stopped and pointed at the sloppy joe. “And a double helping of the tater tots, please.”
Rosa, one of the lunch ladies, fixed me with a disapproving look. A hairnet wrapped so tightly around her hair that not a single strand escaped, giving her an air of no-nonsenseauthority. “I don’t see any vegetables on your tray, Mr. Parker,” she chided, her voice carrying over the din of the cafeteria.
I flashed her a grin, the same one that my students used to get out of trouble. “You caught me, Miss Rosa,” I said, my tone light and playful. “I’ll start on those leafy greens tomorrow, I promise.”
Her lips pursed in mock disapproval, the corners of her mouth twitching as she fought back a smile. But then, her attention shifted past me, her eyes widening with interest. Following her gaze, a wave of heat flushed my face as Marc Mendez stepped into the cafeteria with Mia, a bag of fast food in hand.
My mouth went dry, thoughts scattering as images from his videos flashed through my mind—Marc’s intense gaze at the camera, stretched out on his bed, those big hands at work pleasuring himself. Here, in the mundane setting of a school cafeteria, even in his work clothes, he seemed almost otherworldly, striding with a confidence that I’d never possess.
Embarrassed and oddly jealous, a hot flush crept up my neck.
Marc spotted me in line and gave me a little wave, his smile sending a flutter through my chest. He settled down at a table close to where I stood, Mia climbing onto the seat across from him. Her tiny legs kicked happily as she unwrapped her chicken nuggets and fries, her pigtails bouncing with each movement. Marc bent his head, listening as Mia animated her story with wild gestures, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
I stared at them—I couldn’t help it—my eyes drinking in the sight of them together. There was something so natural, so effortless about the way they interacted, the love between them obvious even from a distance. Looking at them, a strange ache of longing settled in my chest.
A voice behind me caught my attention. Rosa leaned over to whisper something in Spanish to her coworker, who had emerged from the kitchen, her hair tucked beneath a matchinghairnet. Rosa’s coworker glanced at Marc, her eyes widening appreciatively, and let out a soft chuckle, nodding in agreement.
I didn’t need to understand Spanish to get that they were commenting on Marc’s looks—their shared glance and the tilt of their heads said it all. It was like watching birds admire a particularly striking peacock strutting through their garden, their eyes following his every move with undisguised appreciation.
Ridiculous as it was, I was jealous.
I walked into the teacher’s lunchroom, with the door swinging shut behind me and muffling the din of the cafeteria. Stella Brooks sat at one of the circular tables, her brown curly hair pulled back into a ponytail, and jabbed her fork into a Tupperware container. She glanced up as I approached, her bright blue eyes widening at the sight of my tray. “Really, Ken? That’s just…wrong on so many levels.”
Stella and I had been best friends ever since I started teaching at Blanco Springs Elementary five years ago. Having her across the hall from me, with her own group of kindergarteners, felt like I always had someone in my corner. Sliding into the chair opposite her, I popped a tater tot into my mouth with an exaggerated moan of pleasure. “Don’t hate, appreciate. These little nuggets of joy are a culinary delight.”
She wrinkled her nose, unmoved by my performance. “If by ‘delight’ you mean ‘heart attack waiting to happen.’” Stabbing another forkful of what looked like reheated chicken and broccoli, she gestured at my tray with her free hand. “How do you have the energy to keep up with those munchkins after eating like that?”
“I have the metabolism of a teenager,” I said with a smirk. “And I run laps around the playground during recess, chasing down any runners.”
Stella snorted a laugh, nearly choking on her food. After clearing her throat, she set her container aside and leveled me with a serious look. “Speaking of the little ones, how’s the morning reading assignment going with your class? My kids are struggling with the rhyming portion.”
I took a bite of my sloppy joe, considering Stella’s question as I chewed. Swallowing, I said, “Not too bad. A few of them are having trouble with the tongue twisters, but overall, they seem to pick it up.”
From where we sat, I peered out into the cafeteria, and I spotted Marc again. His head bent as he listened intently to whatever Mia was animatedly describing, her small hands gesturing wildly. A small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, crinkling the corners of his eyes in that way that made my stomach flip ever so slightly, a flutter of warmth spreading through my chest.
Marc was sexy, yes, but damn it, why did he have to be so adorable?
Stella must have followed my gaze because she cleared her throat pointedly, the sound cutting through my reverie like a knife. “Ahem. Earth to Ken?” Her voice was laced with amusement, a teasing lilt that made me wince.
A flush crept up my neck as I turned back toward Stella. “Sorry, what were you saying?”
She smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief. “I was asking if you’ve had a chance to talk to the new hottie dad yet?” Her eyebrows waggled suggestively, her grin widening at my obvious discomfort.
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t quite suppress my grin, the corners of my mouth twitching upwards despite myself. “Stella, please. That’s my student’s father you’re objectifying.” I tried to inject a note of disapproval into my voice, but it fell flat, the words sounding hollow even to my own ears.
“Oh, don’t act all prim and proper with me, Mr. Parker,” she scoffed, waving a dismissive hand, her bracelets jangling with the movement. “Like you haven’t checked out that perfect jawline and those bedroom eyes.”
Heat flooded my cheeks as images from Marc’s PrivatelyYours flashed through my mind—the curve of his ass as he arched his back, the taut muscles rippling beneath tanned skin, the smoldering intensity of his gaze as he looked directly into the camera while stroking his thick cock.
I swallowed hard, my mouth suddenly dry.
Firmly pushing those thoughts aside, I shot Stella a warning look. “We’ve talked a few times, about Mia’s epilepsy and how she’s doing in class, that’s all.” I paused before adding, “He seems…guarded.”
“Well, no surprise there,” Stella said with a dramatic roll of her eyes. She leaned forward in her chair, the plastic creaking beneath her weight. “I heard through the grapevine that Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome is divorced. From a man.” She quirked a brow. “Looks like you might have a better shot than the rest of us, huh?” She nudged my arm with her elbow, her touch light and playful, but heat rose in my face.
I rolled my eyes, trying to ignore the flutter of excitement that stirred in my stomach at the thought of me being with someone so physically perfect. “Stella, that’s ridiculous. And even if it were true, it changes nothing.”
