Page 73 of Book of Love


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Chapter 20

Lincoln had always been good at compartmentalizing, and this situation was no different. After responding to Don’s message with thanks and an assurance that he’d be at the scheduled meetings later in the month to finalize the details, he returned his attention to what he was doing now rather than what he planned to do in the future.

He and Grace drove separately to school on Monday morning to avoid being seen in the same car. She detoured to the front office to talk to Hank Spruce about the Metalworks account, then reported to Lincoln she’d been stonewalled again.

“He claims he doesn’t know anything about the money, which I’m sure isn’t true.” She punched the power button on her computer. “I’m going to ask Joe for a list of transactions and see if I can find anything out.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Nothing.” She flashed him a quick smile to mitigate the abrupt word. “I’ve dealt with this kind of thing before, so you don’t have to get involved.”

He took that to mean she didn’twanthim to get involved, like she hadn’t wanted him to “interfere” in her confrontation with Todd Oliver’s father.

While intellectually he understood—the school was her work and responsibility, not his—Lincoln hated the idea of being shut out of any part of her life. Even if she wanted to keep him relegated to a “short-term affair.”

Forcing away his growing unease, he went to the workroom to make copies of handouts before the first bell rang. In class, he told the students the truth about his black eye and bruised jaw—a sparring match that got too rough—before he and Grace began their co-teaching curriculum.

He’d known from the first day he saw her in front of the class that he could have just ridden on her coattails as far as teaching was concerned. She was that good. With her in the lead, he could’ve done the bare minimum to fulfill his contract.

Though that would have gone against his nature, it might have saved Grace some trouble. But it turned out that not only did he actually like the job, he was compelled to do his best. For the students, yes, but also for her. She brought her A game every time she walked into the room. Not for anything would he disappoint her by not doing the same.

The only time he let his focus slip was when she brought out her ukulele and sang a Renaissance or Elizabethan folk song—which she did if the kids finished an assignment early or they had a few minutes to spare before the bell rang.

Then Lincoln sat down with the students to watch and listen. Grace’s bright smile and lyrical voice made butterflies wing around inside him. His heart did a funny, looping thing that he’d never felt before, and when her warm eyes grazed over his, the surge of pleasure caught him off guard.

For the next few days, aside from getting clean clothes from his motel room, he spent all his time with her both in and out of the classroom. They ate breakfast together, packed their lunches, and went to school, where they rarely left each other’s sight.

At night, Lincoln put the full force of his expertise into showing her what the “fuss” and all the rest of it was about. As he’d expected, she was a fast learner, and their antics quickly took on all the nuances ranging from slow and gentle to wild and dirty. He loved everything about having sex with her, not the least of which was her uninhibited enthusiasm and eagerness to try anything.

It was a totally different kind ofembeddingthan he’d done in the Middle East.

He stored away his knowledge about Grace as if he were hoarding gold—where she especially liked to be touched, what made her arch her hips, what rhythm she responded to most fervently. He read the meanings of the subtle shifts in her moans and sighs, and he knew exactly how to urge her into an orgasm that made her shudder uncontrollably and cry out his name.

In the pockets of time when they weren’t either having sex or teaching, they cooked, ate, and talked about everything. UFOs. Cheese. The medieval era. Tolstoy. Sloths.Star Trek. The fact that cows can smell scents up to six miles away. Twizzlers versus Red Vines. Cartography.

Lincoln told Grace about his childhood and difficulties with both his parents and Sam. He told her about the people he’d never forgotten, both those he’d kept in touch with over the years and those whom he’d lost track of but was still trying to find. He talked about life-changing experiences and places to which he would never return.

Grace told him about Berry Farms and the economic depression of the county where she’d grown up. She hadn’t had to look far to know how fortunate she was to have a meal on the table every night.

At the rural school where she’d had her first teaching job, over seventy percent of the students had lived below the poverty level. Their parents struggled to find jobs every few months. Undocumented immigrants were in constant fear of ICE. Every season, neighboring farms lost money and were forced to close.

Though Berry Farms had survived for many years, there had been times when Ray couldn’t make a profit. They’d only managed because he’d known how to save and prepare for the lean times.

In the end, they were still at the mercy of the weather, grain supplies, huge industrial farms, and volatile milk prices. Grace had held it together during the sale process, but she’d finally cried when she and Ray had sent the last of their cows to another farm up north.

Lincoln was beginning to understand why it was so important to her that the Bliss Cove students set solid, achievable goals and created a roadmap to reach them.

When Grace had to attend rehearsal after school one day, Lincoln picked Ray up and headed over to the boxing gym. The older man liked the no-frills, industrial workout space, and they did a mile on the track along with a short weight-lifting session.

Lincoln suspected Grace would approve of her father’s new interest in exercise, but he didn’t want to break the other man’s confidence by being the one to tell her.

On Thursday afternoon, less than thirty seconds after the final bell rang, he closed the classroom door and flipped the lock.

While he had enough self-control—or, at least, he had a deep enough respect for both Grace and the educational institution—to avoid making a move on her during school hours, every day he impatiently counted down the last ten minutes until the final bell rang. Going almost eight hours without touching and kissing her took its toll.

Crossing the room, he grabbed her hips and hauled her against him. She gave a murmur of pleasure, lifting her face at the same moment that he lowered his head to capture her mouth.

Her responsiveness—whether they were kissing or writhing between the sheets—was just one of the things he adored about her. After giving her a thorough kiss that both eased his tension and fired his blood, he reluctantly let her go.

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