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“You have a daughter to support.”
He watched her for another long moment, and she drew in a deep breath. She had him, but took no satisfaction in the victory. The thought of facing the school board without him there was too much to contemplate at the moment.
Turning back to the steaks, he said, “I’ll be there.?
?
“I SHOULD GO.” How many times had she said that to this man?
“You’ve got work to do, and so do I,” Mark said, standing with her in his kitchen. They’d just finished the dishes. Or rather, she’d done them while he shut down the grill, put away the candles and wiped the table on the porch. Together but separate.
“Let me know when you get the graph done.” Meredith pulled a strand of hair over her shoulder, ran her fingers down its length. And again. Two months ago, she wouldn’t have doubted the answers he was going to find. Today, she was nervous even thinking about them. “Funny, but I never thought all those times you called me into your office would come in handy.” The meetings, while not in her official employee file since he’d never issued formal warnings, had been noted in his own ledger. They’d used them to follow up on each incident.
And when he compiled the results, she might see that she was nothing but a fake with a fantastic imagination.
“Have fun grading papers.”
The door was behind her. She just had to turn around. And it would be easier if he’d look away. Set her free.
“Mark, have you heard from Susan?” The random question surprised her. She hadn’t had any conscious awareness of her friend.
“No.” He didn’t even blink.
Meredith wrapped her hair around her fingers. “How do you feel about that?”
“You sound like a psychologist.”
Her eyes narrowed at the way he’d sidestepped the question. “How do you feel?” she repeated.
Hands in his pockets, Mark gave a little shake. “Not as bad as I should, which makes me feel bad.” He grinned at her. “How’s that for messed up?”
Her heart was beating fast again. And it had no reason to do so. Except that Mark was scaring her. Or she was scaring herself.
“Do you love her?” The question was less audible then she’d meant it to be. And the answer was none of her business.
“I thought I did.”
Butterflies swarmed in her stomach. And lower. Accompanying the nervous energy that always seemed to be flowing just beneath her skin whenever he was around.
“Do you think about her a lot?” Was she pushing for Susan’s sake?
“Not as much as I think about you.”
She stopped breathing. Stared at him. Certain she’d misunderstood. If she hadn’t, they had a major problem here.
“Because of the hearing,” he added softly, taking a step closer, his gaze still fastened on her, compelling her not to look away. “And Kelsey.”
She nodded. Yes. In terms of work. And his daughter. Mostly.
Reaching out a hand toward her, Mark untangled the hair from around her fist. “I’ve always been a short-hair man.”
Her hand dropped. “I’ve always had long hair.”
His lips came closer and she meant to move. Wanted to move. Was afraid to move in case she went in the wrong direction. As his head lowered, she knew she was running out of time. Her mouth parted. She tried to tell him stop.
And took his lips on hers instead. Ah. The feeling. So good—like water in the desert. She didn’t have to try so hard, fight so hard.
With a hand on the back of her head, Mark cradled her, kissing her slowly, his mouth moving gently against hers until she needed to cry with the fullness of it. And then the pressure increased, seeking from her, and she opened to him, not just her mouth, but herself, all of her. Sliding her arms around his waist, she clung to him, pulling herself against him and him against her. He filled her grasp, his sides and back a perfect match to the curve of her arms, his stomach and chest warm and solid against hers.
