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“I also don’t walk away from promises and commitments,” he continued. “But you and your class are far more important than a contract. If my being here makes things difficult in any way, I don’t have a problem backing out.”
She cleared her throat. She had to keep him here.
Vocal powers, activate!
“I spoke rather…um, hastily yesterday.” She picked up her mocha and took a sip through the mountain of whipped cream. “As I said, I just need a bit of time to get organized and to figure out ways to make the best use of your expertise. In fact, I came up with a…er, detailed lesson plan last night. Very comprehensive, with a bibliography and a timeline all the way to the end of the year. It focuses on how we can…we can connect universal themes between your work and Shakespeare’s plays and sonnets and…um, ways that the students can study character traits and other literary influences to…”
Now she wished she would shut the heck up.
“Well.” She took another sip of mocha and attempted to smile. “I can explain the details later.”
He approached her desk. “Does that mean you’d be okay with me staying?”
“I would be…” her pulse accelerated with every step closer he took, “honoredanddelighted.”
He smiled, displaying his straight white teeth and the appealing creases at the corners of his dark-honey eyes. Grace went a little weak in the knees.
Oh, dear. In general, good-looking men made her nervous, but she’d never actually worked with one in close proximity. Especially not a man whose good looks were on Lincoln’s off-the-charts level.
Somehow, she’d have to get a grip and maintain her focus. It was just a few weeks. Until June, she couldn’t do anything to jeopardize either her summer school job or, God forbid, her regular year position at the high school.
“I’ll stay,” he said. “But I want to know why it matters so much to you.”
Her shoulders tensed. She couldn’t tell him about Spruce’s threats. Aside from not wanting anyone to know she was on thin ice, after Lincoln’s stubborn determination and protectiveness yesterday, she didn’t trust that he wouldn’t storm right into Spruce’s office and rip the principal a new one for bullying her.
No, she didn’t need Lincoln Atwood defending her, even if she did rather like the idea of Spruce cowering in the face of the other man’s physical…power.
She lifted her chin. “I want…need you here because you’re a renowned author who will bring a lot of value to my classroom.”
He narrowed his eyes in evident disbelief, but didn’t push her for the truth. “When can we review your new curriculum plan?”
Given that her “plan” consisted of a Post-it note scribbled with the phraseAtwood and Shake?, Grace wanted to say, “The twelfth of never.”
Instead, she lifted a hand and airily remarked, “Oh, let’s worry about that later. For today and tomorrow, why don’t you just sit in on class? I’ll introduce you, and you can chat with the students and see what we’re doing. Then over the weekend, I’ll finalize the plan.”
“Sounds good.” He studied her face, then reached out and brushed his forefinger across her nose.
The light touch elicited a ridiculously disproportionate wave of pleasure. Grace curled her hand around the back of the chair to steady herself.
Lincoln held up his finger. “Whipped cream.”
Before she could respond, the bell rang. The room filled with loud chatter and the commotion of students rushing in.
Tearing her gaze from Lincoln’s felt like resisting the force of gravity.
She turned toward her students and took a deep breath. “All right, everyone, settle down. We have a lot of work to do today.”
As the chaos began to die down, she glanced at him again. He’d taken up residence in a chair alongside the wall. His attention was on her like an arrow homing in on a target.
Her heart hammered. She suddenly suspected that with Lincoln Atwood in her classroom, the curriculum would be the least of her worries.
