Chapter Four

Lacie loved the sanctity of her classroom and the fact she wasn’t stuck at home all summer being afraid. She had a place to go where the atmosphere was untouched by the filth that had been following her around for the last month. Filled with light and color, she strived to make her classroom a safe place for the students who didn’t necessarily have the best home lives. But in the process, she’d made it safe for herself as well.

She cherished it. It brought back vague memories of her mother. Dad hadn’t been able to keep the flowers in the yard alive after her death, choosing to let them go and plant boxy shrubs instead. Here, in her classroom, as well as at home, she was able to remind herself daily of her mother.

Lacie was painfully early to school, obtrusively to get ready for her day but unobtrusively to avoid her own home. As she walked around straightening desks and picking up papers, she gave herself a talking to. She was leaving all the negativity at home, where it belonged. She didn’t need to show her fear to her students. This was where they came to learn through play, and Lacie was all about teaching. She loved being a teacher and watching the children as they grasped concepts and gained knowledge, even without knowing it. It was why she existed.

A knock at her door and a familiar throat clearing had her turning around.

“Hi, Daddy!” With long strides, she walked over and hugged the man who had raised her after her mother died when she was eight. He rarely had time to come into her classroom but had managed to visit more since last week. She hated that the evil following her had tainted his school the way it had, but at least it hadn’t managed to invade her classroom.

He squeezed her tightly, cocooning her in the safety only a father’s hug could. It wasn’t until she’d squeezed for a good thirty seconds that she saw the man standing behind him.

“I finally managed to get you an aide for the classroom. Mr. Pierce is going to help you out with your students and anything else you may need.” Her father stepped back, and the stranger held out his hand to shake hers. She almost didn’t see it, though, because … his eyes. The heat flashing in them as he stepped forward to shake her hand consumed her, a hunger that tracked through her veins and coursed around her body before it shuttered into a look of benign nonchalance. It was so fast, if it hadn’t had such a physical effect on her body, Lacie might not have noticed it.

Lacie glanced at her father. Surely the new man was vetted and verified because, with everything that had happened, she was wary of strangers. The fierceness that had flashed in his eyes was intense.

And this guy was definitely strange.

For one thing, he was dressed in a suit. Lacie had never seen a teacher’s aide who dressed nicer than the teachers. Or the administration. His suit was designer, she could tell that much. And it stretched across a frame that wasn’t used to sitting behind desks and working in classrooms. This Mr. Pierce was built like a small linebacker—broad shoulders, tapered waist.

But his eyes struck her most. Gray eyes with a light-green ring around the pupil gave them an eerie quality, but they were clear and held an intelligence that belied his position. Not that teacher’s aides were stupid by any means, but this guy did not fit into that mold. And the way he had looked at her sent shivers down her spine, and Lacie reminded herself again that Daddy had checked the guy. But his look was full of something dangerous, hot, and feral, all wrapped into one darkening gaze.

“Miss Hill,” he spoke, prompting her to realize she was staring at him.

“Sorry,” she held out her hand to shake his, “Mr. Pierce, it’s nice to meet you. I’m excited to be working with you.” Not that she had known about him, but knowing her dad, he’d probably busted his butt to get someone to help since the tire-slashing incident last week.

As her hand touched his, Mr. Pierce’s grip surprised her. Warmth filled her hand, almost a zinging like what she’d read about in romance novels. Which she’d always thought was stupid. But she had the inane desire to shake the tingling off her hand when he let go. His had was calloused, as if he was used to working. Although, if the muscles that seemed to shape the suit were any indication, he probably lifted a lot of weights. And apparently had an electrical socket hidden in there somewhere. The buzz of electricity that flowed up her arm was ridiculous, but he didn’t seem to notice it, with the exception of his sharpening scrutiny.

“Well, I’ll leave you two to it then,” her father said awkwardly before backing out of the room. “Have a great day, sweetheart.” He winked at her, then left Lacie alone with the stranger in the suit who was supposed to help her all day.

His proximity made her nervous, but it was a different sort of nerves than she’d felt lately. Still, she didn’t trust it. He was a man. And she didn’t know him.

Spinning, she went back to the supply closet, desperate to get away from him.

“I’m afraid I’m not dressed properly. I wasn’t sure what sort of position I’d been hired for here, and my mother always taught me that if I wasn’t sure, always err on the overdressed side.” His voice was deceptively deep. Masculine. Dripping with sex-appeal.

Lacie kept her back to the man, afraid the sudden hot-flash she felt would show on her face. She wasn’t menopausal but was hoping that’s what this reaction was. The last thing she needed was an attraction to a co-worker.

As she got out the paint supplies, she laughed nervously. “Yeah, Mr. Hill is famous for that. He likes to hire staff and then groom them for the position he wants them in.” She was wrestling with the easels, trying to untangle them without breaking, dropping, or ripping something, when long arms reached past her and picked them up with ease. Still not looking at Mr. Pierce, she reached up for the box of tempera paints and pulled them down.

Her heart pounded, and her breathing was ragged. The reaction wasn’t a physical reaction to the attraction she felt with him. Nope. The anxiety attack was coming, whether she liked it or not. Lacie swallowed past the lump forming in her throat as she mentally talked to herself.

This was just a man. He wasn’t an attacker. He was a co-worker. Daddy would never hire somebody who would hurt her. Mr. Pierce had the background check, the fingerprints, the drug test, everything the other employees here had. Deep breath in. Deep breath out.

“Miss Hill!” The first student was here, and Lacie dug deep to find her center again, pasting on a smile for the children. She had a day to get through.

Simon was out of his element and completely out of control. He didn’t like it but couldn’t dwell on it, as he was surrounded by twenty-four kindergarteners intent on painting masterpieces.

He didn’t even have time to watch the woman, although he wished he could. After the first five awkward minutes, where he’d tried to break the ice with his self-deprecating comments about his suit, he’d been inundated with smelly five-year-olds.

And his suit was ruined, no doubt.

Honestly, he’d thought Mr. Hill wanted him on staff as security or something. He hadn’t clarified, which was his own damn mistake. Of course Mr. Hill would want him working alongside his daughter in the most hands-on capacity he could.

Simon had taken off the suit jacket after one kid—Alicia?—had splattered paint on it while he was helping her rinse her brushes. But he was afraid the dress shirt underneath was beyond repair, even though he was wearing a tie-dyed apron over his clothes. Thank God his sidearm was concealed in the holster under his shirt in the small of his back. He’d have to find something different for tomorrow. He was quickly realizing these kiddos had no concept of personal space, and he didn’t want to be the root cause of a tragic accident. Like shooting off his own ass.

After art time was a snack, and Simon thought he was safe from more spills, but there he went thinking again. A young boy accidentally sprayed Simon through the straw of his juice box, and now Simon looked like he had a pee stain down his trouser leg. Oh well, at least it wasn’t his best suit.

By the time lunch rolled around and another teacher had picked up the kids to take them to the cafeteria, Simon was a frazzled wreck. Thankful for the relative peace of the teacher’s lounge, Simon followed Lacie Hill like a beaten puppy dog down the hallway.

He’d packed a protein shake for lunch, not having a clue what would happen and needing something easy. Now, he’d wished he had a shot of scotch instead.

“Is it always so loud?” he asked as he sat in the mildewed seats scattered around a long table.

Lacie only laughed at him, along with another woman.

Churlishly, he crossed his arms, drink in hand, and chugged it. This was a mistake. He should have assigned somebody else, anybody else, to the job. He’d rather get a contact high from following around a hippie folk singer.

“So you’ll sign the petition to get a margarita machine in the teacher’s lounge?” the other woman asked with a wry smile.

“Shit, I’ll buy it for us,” Simon muttered as he shook what was left in his shake before upturning it for the dregs.

Lacie was still laughing, a tinkling peal that sounded heavenly. Looking over at her, Simon marveled at the ever-present smile she wore. How could a woman who’d been attacked so many times over the past month be so damn happy? But the more he watched her, the more he noticed. She sat facing the door, and when someone came out of the restroom behind her, she snapped her neck around to see who it was. She tapped her fingers restlessly on the tabletop, a nervous gesture she may have inherited from her dad.

He wondered just how genuine the smile was.

“What brings you to our little part of the woods? You don’t look like you need the job.” Lacie was lounging in her chair, long legs stretched out in front of her, covered in some gauzy, broomstick-style skirt. She wore a filmy, baggy blouse over the top of it, and her wrists were weighed down by clunky, wooden bracelets. A matching necklace hung from her neck, strung with enormous wooden beads. Her long, brown hair was braided down the side of her face—an open face, innocent yet wary. She knew he didn’t belong here.

“I wanted something different. I used to be on the force in San Antonio, but I retired.” Simon was keeping his lie as close to the truth as possible. Having done some undercover work, the lie rolled smoothly off his tongue. “I don’t necessarily need the money, but I needed something to do with myself. I thought working with kids would be nice.” Okay, that last part was a stretch, but he was trying.

“Well, that makes more sense then. You didn’t realize you’d been hired as a classroom aide? That’s why you wore a suit?”

He chuckled, feeling more than a little sheepish. “Yeah, I thought it would be some sort of security position.”

“It probably is,” Lacie mused as she cast her friend a side-long glance. Thankfully, her friend changed the subject.

“Lacie, you up for drinks Thursday? You’re welcome to come too.” She turned to Simon. “It’s sort of our let-our-hair-down night.”

His smile this time was genuine. “I’d like that.” He looked back over at Lacie, who was looking at him funny, and his smile dropped. She kept looking at him like that, and it made a volcano erupt inside him. Her mahogany-colored eyes took on this sheen and her cheeks got a little ruddy, and Simon would get slammed with a heat so intense he felt like lava was running through his veins. Then she would drop her eyes to her lap or a kid or something, and he’d look away and everything would go back to normal.

He shifted in his seat. This kept happening between them. This heat. This was about the fourth time he’d been slammed with the volcano under his skin, and he needed it to stop.

“Trent will be there,” Lacie told her friend. “He’s gotten weird lately, so I don’t know how long he’ll stay, but he’s trying to make more of a point of spending more time with me.”

Shit. If Lacie were his girlfriend, he’d be with her twenty-four hours a fucking day, especially if there were guys stalking her. What sort of guy didn’t want to hang out with his girlfriend? Simon slapped that thought straight out of his head. He had absolutely no business going down that road and had no idea where it had come from. Sure, Lacie was attractive, but she wasn’t his type. At all.

He needed to get laid.

First, he needed to call the office, see how Miriam was doing with the paperwork, and see if Quinten would help him move into his new house.