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I busied myself pulling forms out of my filing cabinet to give myself a minute to calm down.
Yes, Hunter was gorgeous. Yes, the mere sight of him made goosebumps race across my flesh and hairs lift on the back of my neck. Yes, the thought of talking to him made my stomach flutter like a preteen boy with a crush.
But I could handle this. I could be professional.
I had to be, because anything else was unacceptable.
“Tacos and tequila, huh?” His voice was a low rumble that vibrated through all my good intentions. So sexy. “Sounds more interesting than the night I have ahead.”
I whirled, papers in my hand. “I don’t actually go out and get drunk.”
He raised one eyebrow on his unfairly gorgeous face.
“Not that it’s not okay to drink!” I added quickly, remembering all the times I’d seen him at The Stag Pub, though admittedly he’d been there to pick up dinner more often than to drink in recent months. Not that I was keeping tabs on him, except, well, it was impossible not to notice a man like Hunter. “It’s fine. For…anyone who wants to do that. As long as they’re responsible. Don’t drink and drive.”
Shut up, Clark! Shut up.
Hunter chuckled, a low, husky sound that sent a shiver down my spine.
He placed his hands on the desk, leaning in, his rolled-up sleeves exposing every corded muscle in his forearms. Not that I was noticing any of that.
“It’s okay if teaching drives you to drink,” he joked. “I’d probably have a bottle stashed in the desk.”
I gasped. “You wouldn’t.”
“No,” he said. “I wouldn’t.”
“Because you’re joking of course!” I laughed a little. “I knew that.”
He gave me a bemused smile, and I took a breath.Get it together, Clark.
“Would you like to take a seat? I’d like to hear a little more about Toby, and then I can explain how the program works. There’s only a couple of forms to sign, so this shouldn’t take long.”
“Thanks.” Hunter grabbed a chair from one of the desks and pulled it over. It was built for high-schoolers, so it was far from tiny, and yet it looked like miniature furniture beneath his large frame. “I didn’t know if you’d want Toby here? He’s in the hallway playing a videogame if you’d like to talk to him.”
“I’d love to meet him,” I said. In fact, having Toby as a buffer would be great. “But perhaps you should tell me what’s been going on with him before he comes in? I don’t want him to feel uncomfortable.”
Hunter nodded, a pained look on his face. “It’s a small town. I’m sure you’ve…heard gossip.”
“It’s impossible not to,” I said carefully.
“Right. We’ve never met, but we know quite a bit about each other. It’s weird, coming back from a larger city to this fishbowl effect.”
“It is,” I agreed fervently.
He blew out a breath. “So, do I really need to explain why Toby is struggling?”
“Well, I have some idea, but I’d prefer to hear it from you than rely on town gossip. A few things get lost in translation, and a lot of things get exaggerated.”
“That’s fair.” He ran his hands through his hair, clearly uneasy. His jaw tightened. “My wife and I divorced about a year ago. Toby stayed in Minneapolis with his mom to finish the school year, but she wanted me to take full custody. She has, uh, some health issues she needs to focus on. So we both thought some distance and a fresh start would be good.” He smiled ruefully. “Toby disagreed. He hasn’t taken it well.”
“It’s a lot of change.”
“It is,” Hunter agreed. “And, um, I’ve tried to help him. I really have. But I just…he’s so angry, and I don’t know how to make it better. I haven’t been the best parent. I’ve made mistakes, but I’m trying.”
“Of course you are,” I said, taking a few steps toward him. I wanted to comfort him, but that wouldn’t be proper, so I forced myself not to squeeze his large shoulder or smooth that hair he’d ruffled up. “Everyone needs an assist sometimes. It doesn’t mean you’re a bad father.”
He blinked hard, then nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”
