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This is going to be a good year. I just know it.
Pulling the door closed behind me, I glance down at my watch. There’s still a half hour before most of the staff will begin to find their way to the teacher’s lounge. Just enough time to drink my coffee and read a couple more chapters of the latest Kandi Steiner novel on my phone.
The door to the lounge is open, so I walk right in, but stop short of the plush couch I usually settle into Monday through Friday during the school year. Sitting at a table, with a white Blackwell Academy coffee mug in front of him, is a man I’ve never seen before. He greets me with a scowl and I pull my bottom lip in, fighting the smile threatening to expose my intrigue.
Red hair and a bad attitude… must be a Blackwell.
Madeline, the school’s other kindergarten teacher and my only real friend here, was a Blackwell by marriage. She told me over brunch last week all about how her husband’s cousin took the fall for her brother-in-law a little less than a year ago when they were busted with drugs at a traffic stop. Everyone knew they weren’t the cousin’s drugs, but they let him take the blame because her brother-in-law had a kid on the way.
Apparently, this poor guy lost everything when he was in jail. His job, his apartment, his girlfriend at the time… So, Madeline’s mother-in-law, who happens to be the school’s headmaster, made sure there was a job waiting for him when he got out of jail. No wonder he’s miserable.
Which is exactly why I decide to go over and say hello.
I remember how thankful I was when Madeline invited me to take a seat next to her on the couch on my first day last year. It was time to pay the kindness forward.
Placing my iced coffee on the table, I extend my hand. “You must be Mr. Blackwell. Hi, I’m Lucy Heart. I teach kindergarten.”
His brows quirk, unimpressed that I have interrupted his solitude, but he takes my hand anyway. Our eyes connect, and I swallow. He has the most beautiful green eyes.
“Just Sam,” he answers. For a split second, his upper lip curls into something resembling a small smile, but it falls back into a flat line almost immediately. “Mr. Blackwell is my father.”
At the deep, smooth vibrato of his voice, a flutter of butterflies dance inside my stomach. They only seem to move faster when we break our handshake, and I catch a glimpse of the tattoos covering both arms. I swear, his biceps are as big as my head. I never understood the term “arm porn” before this morning, but I get it.Good Lord, I understand it now.
I’m not sure what’s happening right now. I have a “type.” I have since I first started crushing on boys as a teenager. Brown hair, brown eyes. Tall. Shallow as it is, I only date men that make good money. I’m not a gold digger or anything like that. I don’t need or expect them to take care of me. My therapist says it’s my way of ensuring that I don’t have a relationship like my parents. So, it’s really throwing me off that I am incredibly attracted to this ginger wearing khaki pants and a Blackwell Academy polo—the school janitor uniform.
“Okay,” I start with a nod. “So, before anyone else gets a chance to pull you into their activities, I was wondering what you’re doing on Saturday…”
“I’m not sure.” He chuckles. “It’s only seven thirty on Monday morning.”
“I’m the event planner for the academy’s back to school fall festival this year,” I say, getting ready to give him my best infomercial spiel. “We sure could use a set of muscles to help us with—”
I stop short when I realize what I’ve said. Aw, poop.
“I just mean that you have muscles,” I continue, only making matters worse. “Not that I noticed them or anything.” Warmth flushes over my cheeks as I cover my face. “Oh, God. Please don’t report me for sexual harassment. I just meant…”
“It’s fine.” He smiles. A real, genuine smile. “I can make myself, and my muscles, available on Saturday, Ms. Heart.”
I’m about to correct him, to tell him it’s “just Lucy” when I hear Madeline’s voice behind me.
“Of course, you overachievers are the first ones here.” She laughs. “I brought donuts! Come and get them before the rest of the vultures attack them.”
TWO
SAM
The fuck did I just agree to?
The fall festival?
Not my scene…not at all.
But that gorgeous woman—the one hiding behind long strands of perfectly placed blonde hair and those pretty baby blues—had some kind of hold over me as she practically bounced over like she hadn’t a care in the world. How can someone be that full of sunshine and fucking rainbows this early in the morning? I watch her walk out of the teacher’s lounge with an unbelievable amount of pep in her step, and then I gather up my toolbelt and coffee.
I yawn just thinking about how tired I am. These early mornings are going to be hard to get used to again. But I did it just fine during my jail time, I can do it again. Shaking my head as I think about the sacrifice I made for my cousin, I make my way out of the lounge as the first bell of the day sounds throughout the academy.
After meeting Louie, the head janitor of Blackwell Academy, in our supply quarters, I get my first assignment of the day.
Louie runs his palm over his balding head and looks at a sheet of paper with chicken scratch littering every square inch.
