Chapter 5
The next afternoon, Micah parked the Jeep and trailer with his lawn equipment on the side of the school and stepped out. He’d been dreading coming here all day. Half dreading, half looking forward to it. He needed to talk to Kat about the kiss they’d shared last night.
“Dad!” Ben called, waiting for him on the concrete breezeway at the front of the school.
Micah mustered a smile, which wasn’t too hard when it came to his son. “Hey, buddy. I thought your teacher said you could help grade papers while I did the lawn this afternoon.”
“She did. Just wanted to say hi.”
“I can do better than hi.” He wrapped Ben in a tight hug, knowing there were no kids around and Ben wouldn’t mind this time. “It won’t take me long. If your teacher needs me, she knows where I’ll be.”
“Right.” Ben squirmed out of Micah’s grasp and started rolling his wheelchair toward the building alone. He’d yet to mention anyone with long-lasting friend potential, but it’d only been a week. School wasn’t like the Marine Corps, where life and death situations necessitated that you formed an immediate alliance with the person standing next to you.
Scratching his chin, Micah watched his son disappear back inside the building while debating his choice. He could mow the grass first or go in and talk to Kat. He’d prefer to be clean and smelling somewhat human when he saw her, so yeah, talk first, mow later.
He opened the door to the front office and started to say something to the woman sitting behind the desk, but the brunette held up her hand first.
“I know who you are,” she said, grinning like they had some inside secret. “And I know who you want.” Her brows raised teasingly. “She’s somewhere walking around the school with the little hoodlums right now, though.”
“Hoodlums?” he asked, not sure that he’d heard her correctly. Weren’t all the school’s employees supposed to gush over the kids, even the unruly ones?
“This week’s troublemakers,” the secretary continued. “She’s put them in some kind of club, and she’s making them do good deeds. You know, wash the blackboards and stuff. A regular Pollyanna.”
“Pollyanna?” He was here to see Kat. “I’m sorry. I just wanted to speak to the principal.”
“Principal Pollyanna. That’s what I call her when she’s not listening. And also when she is.” The woman offered her hand. “Hi. I’m Valerie Hunt, Kat’s oldest friend. Kind of. We weren’t really friends growing up, but I knew her when she was knobby-kneed and clumsier than she is now. Therefore, I’m allowed to tease her and still keep my job.”
“I see.” He glanced around impatiently.
“I’m also privy to all the juicy information that involves her.”
This got his attention. He was getting out of the Marine Corps next May, so any gossip he stirred here would stick with him forever. “Juicy information?” he repeated, hoping he’d heard her wrong.
“Usually. But she’s been real tight-lipped this week. All I know is she ate dinner with you and your son last night when I bailed on her.”
His whole body relaxed. “That’s all there is to know.”
Val’s eyes skimmed over him. “So, where is Ben’s mom?”
Maybe he should’ve chosen to mow the lawn first. He hadn’t realized he was walking into an interrogation. “She’s active duty,” he said.
If Val was surprised, it didn’t show. Instead of responding, she continued to stare at him, waiting for him to say more.
“Ben’s mom is about to go back to Afghanistan. He doesn’t know it yet.” So why had he just told the nosiest person he’d ever met?
Her face softened. “Poor kid. That must be hard.”
A huge knot formed in the back of his throat. “Maybe I’ll just catch Kat…uh, Principal Chandler, when I’m done with the lawn.” He started to leave, and then walked straight into the leggy blonde who’d invaded his dreams last night. She braced herself against his chest, and looked up at him, surprise making her lips part just slightly the way they had last night after he’d kissed her.
Yeah, he was glad he wasn’t sweaty and dirty just yet.
“Micah…I mean, um, Mr. Peterson.” Her gaze skittered toward her secretary.
“I was hoping to run into you,” he said, unable to help the slow smile that spread through his face. Or the way his heart sped up just looking at her. He could get used to the feel of her body against his. “I wanted to talk to you.” His gaze flickered behind him, and he lowered his voice. “Privately.”
She pulled her hands from his chest with what seemed like the effort it took to pull apart two magnets, and took a tiny step backward. “Sure.” She started to lead him into her office, and then stopped. “How about we take a walk outside instead?”
Opening the door for her, he agreed. “Perfect.”
They walked at a comfortable distance from each other down the row of flowers he’d planted the week before.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry about last night.”
She looked up. “Don’t apologize. It was my idea.”
“To pretend we were a couple maybe, but I got carried away.” Securing the ball cap on his head, he slid her a glance. “I forgot about your fiancé. Guess I just got wrapped up in the moment. When I got home, I couldn’t sleep. Kissing you was way out of line, and I’m sorry.”
Guilt wasn’t the only reason he couldn’t sleep, though. It’d been a long time since a kiss had made him ache for more. And he’d ached last night in every part of his body.
She stopped walking and faced him. “Really. You don’t have to—”
“If I was the man marrying you, I’d be furious if someone kissed my fiancée.” He cleared his throat and planted his gaze on the mower in the distance. When he looked at her, all he could think about was pulling her to him and kissing her again. And how sweet that kiss had been, or how long it’d been since he’d kissed a woman and felt anything. He certainly hadn’t with Nicole.
“It’s fine,” she said quietly.
He shook his head. “I don’t want some guy trying to beat me up.”
“Trying?”
His gaze returned to her. “Yeah, well, I haven’t seen the guy, but I’m pretty confident in my ability to take care of myself.”
She laughed, the sound so sweet that he had the urge to make her laugh again. Time to mow the lawn before his palms started sweating like a high school kid with a tank-sized crush. “Well, that’s all I wanted to say…Oh.” He reached inside the pocket of his jeans, well aware that her gaze traveled down to watch. “I found this.”
“My keys! Where did you find them?”
“I went back to Kirk’s this morning. The cashier said someone left them in the bathroom overnight.”
Her hand brushed against his knuckles as she grabbed the keys, her skin soft like silk. He wondered if the rest of her felt the same. He had to stop having these thoughts. She was getting married, and not to him. And she was Ben’s principal. Two very good reasons to leave her alone.
“Thank you. I had a spare set, but it was giving me the creeps having my keys out there for anyone to use. I was considering leaving early today and getting my locks changed.” She laughed lightly.
“You should leave early some days. You know what they say about all work and no play,” he said.
“It makes a boring Jane. Yes, I know. My mother used to tell me that all the time.”
Jessica crossed Micah’s mind. His ex was definitely more work than play. “I suspect
you’re anything but boring.” He watched her throat constrict as she swallowed. It was pull her in for another kiss or walk away, which is what he should’ve done last night. He tipped his head toward the mower. “I have to get to work.”
“All work and no play,” she teased, tossing his own words back at him.
“This is my play,” he said, readjusting his hat. “See you later, Kat.” Then, he headed toward his fully-loaded John Deere mower. There was nothing better than taking a ride and letting the vibration shake the stress off his body.
Nothing better.
Except maybe watching a beautiful principal stoop to admire his flowers as her knee-length skirt slid up the backs of her thighs. She had nice, long legs. Standing again, she started to walk away. She also had a nice…
He kicked the lawnmower into gear with a loud roar of its engine.
She was a beautiful, engaged principal, who, for all he knew, was just as much all-work-and-no-play as Ben’s mother—not what he needed. In fact, Kat Chandler was the last thing he needed in his personal life right now.
—
Kat entered the school and stopped for moment, letting the cool air-conditioning hit her heated cheeks. It was hot outside for the beginning of September, and Micah Peterson hadn’t helped to cool her down.
“Yeah, he’s hot,” came a lilting voice across the lobby.
Kat’s eyes flung open. “I didn’t know you were standing there.”
Val laughed with all the delight of a five-year-old. “I think it’s great that you have a crush on someone.”
Kat looked around to make sure no one had overheard her secretary’s big mouth. Micah was a parent. Not only that, he worked for the school. “I don’t have a crush on him,” she argued in a hushed voice. “He’s nice. And handsome. That’s all.”
“You didn’t think he was so nice a few days ago.” Val followed her back into the office. “Anyway, I’m heading out. My father has me on dinner duty for another church family in crisis. Are you heading home?”
Kat shook her head. “I’m working late tonight.”
“Woo-hoo,” Val yipped, sarcasm dripping easily from her words. “That sounds about as much fun as serving up chicken to strangers.”
“I’m going to regret hiring you, aren’t I?” Kat helped Val stack a pile of random things into her arms, one of which was a romance novel. Kat hoped Val at least pretended to work when there were other people in the office.
“Probably.” Val winked and started walking toward the door. “Just don’t let him see you watching him.”
“What?”
“I know that’s really why you’re staying late. But don’t let Mr. DILF catch you. Men are more interested if they think you’re not too into them.”
“Thanks for the tip.” Rolling her eyes, she opened the door for Val and noticed Ben rolling toward her in his wheelchair.
“See you later, Ben Peterson.” Val waved and walked out the double doors of the school.
Thank God. Best friend or not, sometimes she drove Kat batty. “Your dad is still working outside, Ben,” she said, leaning against the wall and waiting for him to look at her. “Did you have a good day at school?”
He shrugged a shoulder, keeping his gaze on the tiled floor.
“Wanna talk about it?” she asked.
He shook his head in a jerky movement characteristic of his cerebral palsy. His muscles resisted everything he did. “Not really.”
“Hmm. Want to go for a walk?”
He looked at her as if she had three heads. “In case you haven’t noticed, Principal Chandler, I don’t walk much.” He grinned, obviously proud of his little joke.
“You know what I mean.” She gave his dark, shaggy hair a tousle as his crooked smile revealed a small gap between his two front teeth. Then she pushed the square handicap button that automatically opened the double doors of the school, and they headed toward the humming sound of the lawnmower around back.
“Can you push me?” Ben asked, looking up at her with large, hopeful eyes.
Her mouth quirked to the side. “You can wheel yourself.”
His shoulders sagged by his side. “But my arm is tired.”
Kat remembered what Micah had said about Ben being independent. “I’d rather walk beside you if that’s all right.”
They continued in silence for another beat.
“I think my mom is deploying again,” he said then.
Her mouth fell open. She’d wanted to ask about Ben’s mother last night, but hadn’t felt right about it. And his file mentioned nothing, which she’d been intending to correct. “Your mother is a Marine?” she asked.
Ben nodded. “My dad is acting funny and I know it has something to do with her. I think she’s going back to war, just like last year.”
A charley horse–sized cramp squeezed at her heart. “Did you ask your father about it?”
Ben shook his head. “No. He’s been trying to tell me. I don’t want him to though, even if it’s true. Because that’ll mean it’s real.”
“I see.” It was the same part of her that hadn’t wanted to hear any news about John when she’d found out about the accident involving his squadron. No news meant there was still hope. He could still come home and they would get married.
The mower stopped in the distance, and she spotted Micah walking toward them. His shirt was already soaked through in the front and clung to his deeply defined chest. How did caring for landscapes mold a chest like that one? Was he doing pull-ups in the trees?
“You like my dad,” Ben said quietly.
Kat whipped her head to look at the boy, who was smiling broadly at her. “No. I mean, yes. He’s nice, but—”
“But you’re marrying someone else,” he said with a heavy sigh.
They both looked down at her diamond.
“It’s complicated,” she said softly, aware that Micah was almost in front of them.
“Adults always say that.”
“Hey there, buddy.” Micah ran the back of his hand over his forehead, clearing the layer of sweat that had collected there. “You two out for a walk?”
Ben nodded. “I finished helping Miss Hadley grade papers.”
“Good. You made sure you gave yourself all As then, right?” He winked at Kat, making her belly flutter.
Her feelings about Ben’s dad were complicated, too. She wasn’t usually one who went dry in the mouth just because a hunky dad stood next to her. Of course, she didn’t know many hunky dads, and most of them were married. Or Marines, which were a breed of man she never intended to date again.
“I’ll load things up and finish over the weekend, if that’s okay?”
“Sure.” She nodded, contemplating if she needed to work over the weekend, too. Just the thought of seeing him again made her heart lift in her chest. Val was right. She needed to get more of a social life. Looking forward to the landscape guy mowing the school’s lawn was bordering pathetic.
Micah motioned for Ben to move his wheelchair forward, accidentally bumping the Transformers book bag that hung from its handles. A loose paper fluttered to his feet. “What’s this?” He stooped to pick the wrinkled paper up and unfolded it, revealing a drawing inside.
“That’s mine!” Ben attempted to snatch it with his right arm. “Give it back. It’s mine.”
A flicker of something passed across Micah’s eyes, and his jaw hardened. “What the hell is this?”
“Dad! Pleease,” Ben begged. “It’s trash.”
Kat looked between them, and then took the paper that Micah handed her. It was a penciled sketch of a boy in a wheelchair with various mean words circling the stick-figure boy. Geek. Nerd. Loser. Dumb. “Who gave this to you, Ben?” she asked.
Ben looked like he was on the verge of tears. “No one. I drew it.”
“Ben,” Micah warned. “That’s not your handiwork. Who gave it to you?” he asked more forcefully.
Ben looked away, his mouth tightly shut. He wasn’t going to talk.
Kat crouched down, resting her hands on the arms of Ben’s wheelchair, and lowered her voice. “Whoever drew it, they’re wrong.” She waited for him to meet her eyes. “None of those things are true. You know that, right?”
Sniffling, he nodded. “I’m definitely not dumb. I’m much smarter than your average third grader.”
This made her smile. “And you’re not a nerd, or a geek, or a loser. If you don’t want to tell us who drew that picture, you don’t have to.”
“Now wait one minute,” Micah said behind her, his voice hard-edged like it’d been earlier in the week.
Kat didn’t turn back. Instead, she continued talking to Ben. “But if you change your mind, I’d really like to talk to the person who drew that picture. A kid has to feel really bad about themselves to want to tear someone else down.”
Ben blinked. “I didn’t think about that.”
She lifted a shoulder and stood, ironing her hands over her skirt. “My office door is always open. I’m a good listener, and I happen to know that you’re a good talker.”
Ben’s contagious smile was back. “Okay.” His gaze moved to his father.
Kat hesitated before looking at Micah, too, already suspecting what she’d see in his expression—something similar to what she’d seen after she’d walked Ben to class on the first day of school—unmasked disapproval.
Not looking at her, Micah reached for the drawing in her hand and gave it another quick glance, growling under his breath. “We’ll talk at home,” he said to Ben.
It was obvious he didn’t like the way she’d handled the situation. Would he rather that she bully the answer out of his son, though?
“Have a nice weekend,” he said tightly, walking with Ben toward his Jeep Cherokee in the parking lot.
“ ’Bye, Principal Chandler,” Ben called, not looking back.
“ ’Bye. See you Monday!” And with that, the first week of school was over. Kat blew out a breath. Not too bad. Everyone had survived, and next week would be even better—as long as she kept her hard and fast attraction toward a certain parent in check, and proved to him that she had his son’s best interests at heart. Because she did. Ben was a great kid, and she was going to make sure that he, and every other student at SES, was successful this year.
—
Micah stared at Ben across the dinner table that night. He’d made salads on purpose. Ben hated salads and, for the life of him, he didn’t know how to punish the kid. Ben needed to tell on his bully, so that the brat could be tossed in that Friendship Club the school was constructing for mean kids.
“You don’t protect the people who hurt you,” he said, studying Ben’s forlorn features.
“You protect Mom,” Ben countered.
Micah started to argue, stopping short when the doorbell rang. He pointed a finger. “Not the same, but hold that thought.”
He walked toward the front door and opened it, already knowing who would be there. “Hey, Lawson. Maybe you can talk some sense into my boy.”
Lawson pulled off his cowboy hat and hung it on a hook in the hallway as he followed Micah toward the table. It was Friday night. Lawson had been showing up on Friday nights since their first deployment together. Micah had saved his life in the desert and somehow that translated into having weekly meals together.
Ben’s eyes lit up when he saw him. “Uncle Lawson!”
Yeah, and somehow weekly meals translated into family. That was fine by Micah, too. Ben needed family. Other than Micah, all Ben had was a mother who had chosen the military over him and a grandfather who, as the CO of Camp Leon, was the military.
Then there was Aunt Clara and Uncle Rick who lived next door. They were a big part of the reason that Micah had decided to stay in Seaside once he got out of the military. Clara and Rick had always been home to him, no matter where he’d gone growing up, moving across the country, wherever his father’s job sent them. Every time he’d visited Seaside, he’d felt that ring of familiarity in his heart—the one he guessed people got when they came home.
This was his home.
Lawson, all six foot three of him, stood in front of the table and frowned at the salad like a disappointed child.
Micah tried not to look at him for fear of laughing. This was a serious meal. Ben needed to tell him who was bullying him at school.
“A salad?” Lawson muttered. “Really? I don’t know if I mentioned it on the phone or not, but I ran six miles this morning. And spent all day in the field. I probably sweat off at least two gallons out there, man.”
Nice visual. “You mentioned it.” Micah sat and picked up his fork, stabbing at a leaf of lettuce. “Ben, tell Uncle Lawson why we’re having salads for dinner.”
Ben squirmed in his chair. “Because salads are good for you.”
“Wrong answer,” Micah said sharply. “Some kid at school is picking on Ben. Drawing pictures of him and calling him names.”
“What kid?” Lawson asked, his eyes darkening. He was a good friend, and loved Ben as much as he would a real nephew.
“He’s not saying,” Micah said through tight lips. He wanted to shake the answer out of his son right now and then barge down to the bully’s house and lay into the kid until he cried uncontrollably. And after that, lay into the kid’s parents for raising such a brat. Not that he’d actually do that, of course.
But Ben wasn’t saying. No matter how much the kid had hurt his feelings, he didn’t want to see his bully get in trouble with his overprotective father. Micah got that. It’s the same thing he would’ve done, but it didn’t keep his blood from singing through his veins.
“Fine. You can add doing the dishes every night to your list of chores,” Micah said.
“Dad!”
Lawson raised a finger quietly, seated now with a fork in hand. “How’s he supposed to wash dishes?”
Micah and Ben both looked at him like he had vines growing out of his ears.
“I can wash dishes, Uncle Lawson. I hold the dish in my left arm and wash with my right. Just takes forever.” He emphasized the word “forever,” rolling his eyes.
“Keep complaining and I’ll add folding the laundry.” Micah noticed the slight tremble in Ben’s chin. Oh, geez. He hoped his son wouldn’t start crying. Lawson hated it when Ben cried. The man got all shifty and looked like he was being held hostage or something.
“If you’re so big and tough, why don’t you just tell me this news you’ve been trying to break to me all week,” Ben said then.
Micah steeled himself, holding his fork suspended in the air. “What news?”
“You know. The news about Mom.” Tears shone in Ben’s eyes. His cheeks were already a ruddy red from the emotion swirling through him. Cerebral palsy didn’t just affect his son’s muscle tone, it also made him an extra emotional kid. It was something Micah understood, but it still socked him in the gut every time he saw Ben’s tears.
Lawson shoved more lettuce in his mouth, keeping his head low. Micah guessed he was regretting not going home for a boring night of TV or finding a date for tonight instead.
“How did you know your mom was deploying again?” Micah asked.
Ben pushed aside his plate as a tear glided down his freckled cheek. He sniffed, looking like he was doing his best not to fall apart, and Micah knew he was. “I didn’t. Until now.”