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“Oh, I have an idea for that,” Clark said, voice teasing. “I have to check on some details first. Make sure it’s doable. But don’t worry. We’ve got those research field trips coming up, so you’ll be busy.”
“Fun,” Toby said, a little sarcastically, but then he followed it with a laugh.
It really was amazing how good Clark was with him. It made me wonder why he’d chosen to teach high school and not younger kids. But knowing Clark, he was probably great with all age groups. He certainly had taught me a few things simply from observing him with my son.
When they emerged from the kitchen, I was standing stock-still with a spray bottle in my hand, having forgotten I was supposed to be doing something other than listening in.
Clark raised an eyebrow, looking immaculate and put together as always in a sweater-vest/bow-tie combo. It was the sort of outfit that should be geeky, but he wore it so well that it seemed fashionable. The only part of him that wasn’t so tidy was his hair, a riot of curls on top of his head, but even that looked intentional in its chaos.
“All done?” I asked, as if I didn’t already know.
Clark’s lips quirked. “Yep. Toby was a trooper.”
“Can I go play now?” Toby asked, gaze darting between me and Clark as if unsure who would be in charge of his time.
“Sure.” I wanted to talk to Clark without my son’s presence anyway. As Toby made a dash for the stairs, I added, “Tell Clark thank you!”
“Thanks, Clark!” he called, feet thudding on the steps.
Clark tucked his hands into his pockets. “Clark, huh? You two are getting very casual.”
“Sorry. Mr. Fletcher,” I said. “That’s my bad influence.”
He smirked. “That’s okay. I’m just kidding. As long as he calls me Mr. Fletcher at school, it doesn’t matter here.”
“Thank you for doing this,” I said. “And, uh, speaking of school…”
“Yes?”
I rubbed at my hot neck, feeling like an ass. “I hope I didn’t get you in trouble with that dumb joke about dating.”
Clark looked embarrassed, his emotions easy to read, but he brushed off the apology. “It was fine. I was worried for nothing.” He laughed nervously. “My principal almost seemed disappointed we weren’t really a couple.”
“Well, I’m glad it didn’t cause you any trouble,” I said, feeling awkward. “Sometimes I speak before thinking.”
“Right, yeah, it was no problem,” Clark said quickly. “Actually, she called me to that meeting to talk about GrasshopPeers. She thought it’d make a good example of innovation for the grant the city is trying to get? I don’t know all the details.”
I brightened. “Oh, yes. That’s a great idea. I’m the one drafting the proposal, so I’ll try to do your program justice.”
Clark wet his lips, and for just a moment, my gaze got stuck there, watching the tip of his tongue. He had a pretty mouth. Objectively speaking. I didn’t usually notice a man’s mouth, but Clark’s was…
What the hell are you thinking right now?
“Thank you,” he said softly.
I cleared my throat. “Yeah, no problem. I guess you probably want to get going, huh? I didn’t mean to keep you.”
“Yes, but there is one more thing I wanted to run by you.”
“Okay?”
Clark unzipped his laptop bag and withdrew a sheet of paper. When he handed it to me, I saw it was a photocopy of an old news clipping, and it depicted a photo of a party of some kind. I peered closer, recognizing a spiral staircase. “Is this…”
Clark pointed to the cutline below the photo:Having a ball at The Ball residence …
“This is your house,” he said. “This photo is from the 1920s, but from what I’ve seen, the Ball family was an influential one in town for several generations. One of them was the mayor, and another a wealthy businessman who helped develop our downtown.”
“Wow, this is really cool. Thanks, Clark.”
