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“You would’ve had another girl up there quicker than I can do jazz hands, wouldn’t you?” She shook her hands next to her face and did a quick shuffle step to drive her point home, then slid into his Charger, ignoring her so-called husband’s laughter as he settled behind the wheel.
“What the fuck was that?”
“I already told you last night. Jazz hands.” She gave him her address before turning her attention back to the previous discussion. “You act like you’re all sincere about wanting to be with your wife, and yet, you wouldn’t have even cared if I’d said no. You would have been at the bar all, ‘baby, my wife just left me. I’m so sad.’”
“As much as I admire your imitation of me,” he said, an amused expression on his features, “When did I ever say I’d bring another woman up to our hotel room, or give you any reason to think I would?”
“You don’t have to say it. I can sense it. I know guys like you. I am a guy like you, but without the set to prove it.” She poked at his arm. “Green light, yellow light, red light, remember? I heard that whole speech, including the fact that you don’t want to be married. Ever. But yet—”
“We are.”
“Yeah.” She blew out a breath. “But that doesn’t change the fact that you’re the type of man who doesn’t get a broken heart because your heart never enters into the equation. You’re not willing or ready to offer it up to a woman, so you keep it safe. It’s simple math. And it doesn’t take much to know that at the end of the week, I’ll be leaving.”
For a second, he looked at her as if she’d struck him physically. But then he smiled and held a hand over his chest. “Oh, babe. If you want my heart, try talking history instead of math. That might win me over.”
“You like history?”
“Of course.” He pursed his lips. “I do teach it, after all.”
Her eyes went all wide. “Oh my God. You’re a teacher?”
“Yep.”
She crossed herself and mumbled, “God save America.”
“Hey, now.” He gave a choked laugh. “I’ll have you know I’m quite good at my job. I’ve been teaching middle school students since I graduated college.”
Even better. “I’m sure all the girls in your class think you’re the best teacher ever.” She sang the chorus of “Hot for Teacher.”
“Oh, stop. If they do, I wouldn’t know. They are children after all.” He lifted a shoulder and flexed his fingers on the wheel. “They all seem equally enthusiastic to learn, if you ask me. As in, they don’t want to.”
She could tell he didn’t like the current topic, which probably meant all the girls in his school were crushing on him. They’d have to be blind not to. But really, look at him. What young girl in her right mind wouldn’t be half in love with him?
“Do some of them ask for tutoring, even when they have straight A’s?”
He looked at her weirdly. “Sometimes, I guess.”
“Then they like you.”
He raised a brow. “Is that what you did to the cute teachers in your school?”
No. She’d avoided them. She’d been an awkward child at best, more interested in dancing than learning. “And if I did?”
“Then kiss me. I can tutor you all you want, free of charge.” He grabbed her hand and nibbled at her wrist. “All you have to do is ask.”
She laughed and pulled free before burying her hand in his thick, blond hair. She loved the way it wrapped around her fingers. Giving it a gentle tug, she asked, “Oh, yeah?”
“Mmm hmm. Lesson number one…”
He stopped at the red light and leaned closer, his lids drifting shut. She closed the rest of the distance between them, and he kissed her, his tongue playing with hers in seconds. As she clung to him and returned the kiss, she couldn’t help thinking that if she needed help with anything, it would be learning how to keep him at arm’s length.
Teach me how to keep my heart safe, before I lose it.
Chapter Ten
Mike slammed his hand down on the shrieking alarm, smiled, and stretched as far as he could in the confines of the blankets. Life was good. It was Wednesday morning, and he had his lovely wife by his side. Funny how the word no longer made him want to retch. In fact, wife was starting to sound like something he might enjoy—at least with Morgan anyway. Last night after they had sex, they’d just lain there, whispering secrets back and forth. Sharing the past and their dreams.
A month ago, that would have been his description of pure hell. A month ago, he would have willingly castrated himself before agreeing to spoon after sex. But with Morgan, it felt different. With Morgan, there was no drama and fighting and tears. It was easy and straightforward. She wanted to dance, and he wanted her. No hearts involved or broken dreams.
