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“Your concerns are valid, John, but there are many multifactual reasons why Sam feels the way she does,” I replied. “Have you ever sat with her and talked about her feelings?”
His lips flattened. “I wish I could tell you yes.”
“I think you might want to,” I replied.
He leaned forward and raked a hand through his hair. “I’m not the best at emotions, Miss Everett. I grew up feeling that the less I let them rule me, the more I would be in control. Sometimes, I think Sam got that feeling from me because, as I’d said before, sometimes she would go as blank as a slate, but now—” He sighed. “If we were to talk, I don’t know what I would say to get her to open up to me.”
“You would need to start creating a safe space,” I replied. “Is there a place on the ranch where you can talk, a place she likes to go?”
“The pond,” he replied. “She loves swimming.”
“My advice is to take her there,” I replied. “Start the conversation with something personal to you; open the conversation with ease so she feels comfortable speaking with you. Maybe something silly or embarrassing, but don’t beat around the bush after that. Tell her you’ve noticed something is bothering her and that it’s safe to tell you what she is feeling.”
His mouth was slanted.
He’s got sexy lips…
“And if that doesn’t work?” he asked.
“Don’t get frustrated,” I replied. “Try again a few times. She might understand that you are serious about taking time to help her get through her problems.”
He nodded. “Is Sam under any disciplinary action? Is she suspended or expelled?”
“No, S-John,” I just barely caught myself. “This is her first infraction. She will have detention, though.”
“Has she apologized to Tyler?” John asked his tone firm this time. “She knows that such things are not allowed at home. I’d expect her to do the same things here.”
“She did so almost as soon after the fact,” I replied, hoping it would remove that thick knot in his brows. “Samantha is a truly responsible young lady.”
Scruff surrounded full lips, and though I had never been into facial hair before, I quite liked the look of it on him. The shadow of a beard belonged on his face, and I felt attraction flush my chest.
“Do you have a notepad and a pen?” he asked.
“Um,” I looked to my desk and the pad of Sticky-Notes and plucked a pen from the holders. “Here you go.”
He took the pen—like his daughter, he was left-handed—and scribbled something on the paper. Sliding it back to me, John added, “This is my personal cell number. I would like you to use it in an emergency when I am out of the house or on a business trip.”
I took the pad with reverence as if holding the holy grail and made a mental note to put this in the school records. “Thank you, John. Would you like to stay until Samantha comes out of class?”
“Miss Everett—”
“Rayna, please,” I jumped in.
His lips twitched. “Rayna then…” my name on his lips made my legs tighten under the table. “…a pack of hyenas couldn’t move me. I need to speak with my daughter as much as you do.” His long leg stretched out and bumped mine before he drew it back. “Sorry about that, but I’m staying put.”
I sucked in a breath, unready to be so surrounded by him. His musky, spicy cologne filled my airspace…and my lungs. “Um, sure. Would you like some coffee while we wait?”
“Coffee, black, please,” he requested.
“I’ll get you a cup, and I apologize in advance. It…” I paused and searched for the right words, “…might not be the best blend you’ve tasted.”
“Is it sludge skimmed off a tar road?” he asked.
“No,” I replied.
“Then I don’t mind,” he replied, raking his hand through his hair, skewing the already tousled hair that much more. “Trust me; I have had worse. Believe me. I won't mind.”
With a nod, I turned to the door but glimpsed him removing his jacket with a sexy flex of his shoulders and then peeling it off with sleek grace. My heart thundered in my ears while I went to the break room and made a cup of black coffee but carried a handful of creamer and sugar just in case.
