Chapter 11

Carrie was so lost in thought, she nearly jumped out of her chair when the garage door banged shut and she heard Seth come in. A moment later, he was in the kitchen, which did little to help her racing heart.

“Hey,” he said, going straight for the refrigerator. He pulled out a sports drink, twisted off the cap, downed half of it, replaced the cap, and set it on the counter.

She was absolutely not staring at the play of his arm muscles as he twisted, lifted, and twisted.

Except she was.

“Late night,” she said. Wednesdays were always his latest night, but usually he was home by the time she and Maddie returned from the pool around seven. Tonight they’d been home well over an hour.

He took another long swallow. “Coach Brandt has a few new schemes he’s installing for this week’s game. The Scorpions have some of the best offensive linemen in the league, so if we want to have any chance of getting a sack, we need a new tactic. And their running game is second in the league, so our read options on the run increased. And their quarterback loves to improvise. So we…”

His voice trailed off and he gave her a self-deprecating half smile. “Sorry. I’m probably boring you. I know you’re not a football fan.”

“No, it’s interesting. I never paid much attention to Jason in high school since he was my dumb older brother. And he was so far away for college, I ignored it.” She absentmindedly spun her pencil on her fingers as she spoke. “But getting an insider’s view, it’s actually sort of interesting.”

He made a face like he suspected she was humoring him. Which she wasn’t. She was starting to enjoy watching the games on TV with Maddie, and they’d gone to two at the stadium. Those were a lot of fun. Understandably, Maddie knew a lot about the game, and she pointed out the things her dad did well every play, not just the big plays like when he caught an interception. Carrie was learning a lot about the sport.

“Anyway, lots of new stuff to learn.” He brought his tablet and drink and sat down across from her at the table. “I’ll be up late with this tonight.” He tapped the tablet.

A dozen ideas for ways they could stay up late together jumped into her head, heating her cheeks. She bit the inside of her lips to keep them from slipping out. Without thinking about it, her hand started doodling on the paper in front of her.

Seth cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Was he thinking the same thing?

She needed to look for another new job. And a new nanny for Maddie. The awkwardness and the tension were going to suffocate her soon, and her plan to meet a new guy to divert her interest was a nonstarter. She’d even dragged Amy out to a club last Friday, and while she’d talked to and even danced with some attractive, interested guys, she hadn’t been able to make herself even give out her phone number. Her hormones were only interested in one man.

“Whatcha working on?” Seth nodded at her notebook.

“It’s nothing, really.” A silly idea, but one that would never go anywhere.

He twisted his head, trying to see her paper better. “That’s not your diary or something, is it?”

“No!” That would be embarrassing. If she kept one, it would likely be nothing but lamenting how she couldn’t have Seth even when she wanted him so badly. “I think I told you, I did a panel about using more illustrative texts, almost like comics or graphic novels, to teach reluctant learners.”

“Sure. I went to your talk. I remember.”

Again, the knowledge that he’d attended her panel and actually paid attention to what she said both warmed her and excited her.

He was a dangerous man. And they were edging into dangerous territory. Because if they became friends before she got over her idiotic lust for him, she’d be a goner.

But other than Amy, no one in her life gave a crap when she talked about her ideas. So she couldn’t stop herself from continuing. “Amy and I have been toying with the idea of actually making a textbook. We’d start with one targeted for seventh- or eighth-grade science, since that’s what I know best. I’d write the text and ideas for the illustration, and she’d do the actual drawing.”

“And that’s what this is?” He nodded at her notebook, where she’d sketched images so rough they’d embarrass a four-year-old, interspersed with blocks of text.

She shrugged. “It’s really rough. I was goofing around while Maddie worked on her math. And when she went upstairs, I kept playing.”

He shrugged back at her. “Gotta start somewhere. I bet Spider-Man wasn’t Stan Lee’s first doodle.”

He knew who Stan Lee was?

At her startled look, he laughed. A full, hearty sound so warm and welcoming, she wanted to wrap herself in its warmth.

“I’ve paid a little attention to Maddie over the years.”

“I guess he is pretty well known.”

They sat in silence for a few minutes, her making absent doodles on the page, him finishing his drink. Every second that passed made her feel more at ease. More like she belonged in his home, as a part of an odd little family. It didn’t erase the tension stretched between them, didn’t make her want him any less. But it made it a little less uncomfortable.

“You think you’ll do this textbook instead of going back to teaching?” He pushed back from the table and took his empty bottle to the recycling bin in the pantry.

“I honestly haven’t considered that.” She and Amy had never had a serious conversation about actually making their book.

“You do want to go back to teaching, right?” He paused at the pantry door, watching her. Lines creased his forehead, but she couldn’t interpret his expression.

With a sigh worthy of Maddie, she said, “I don’t know.”

Now his expression was easily read: surprise. “Really? I assumed…”

“I love science, obviously. And I love the kids. Or most of them. There are always a few you want to strangle.” Because she couldn’t sit still with him watching her, she took her empty cup to the kitchen to refill her Diet Dr Pepper.

“But…?” he supplied for her.

“But I hate the politics. Both the administration and the district, and how rigid the curriculum is. Teaching to standardized tests instead of developing kids’ critical thinking.” She wasn’t going to think about the circumstances and politics and funding cuts that had led to her losing her job. She’d spent too much of the summer angry.

She took a large swallow from her drink and leaned back against the counter. Seth wandered over to lean against the opposite counter.

“Would a private school be better?”

“Doubtful. From what I could tell at the ones where I interviewed, the politics are sometimes different, but still prevalent.”

He looked thoughtful, working his mouth in a way that drew attention to his beard. Which made her think of how those rough whiskers felt against her skin when he kissed her.

Her stomach hollowed and she had to look away from him so she wouldn’t close the distance between them and shove her hands into his hair. He usually wore it back in a ponytail, but tonight it was loose around his shoulders, which was torturous.

“So what’s your plan? I mean, Maddie and I love having you here, but I assume this isn’t a long-term career plan for you.”

She looked up and their gazes connected. She couldn’t quite catch her breath. Something stretched between them, some kind of acknowledgment that neither of them wanted her to stay his daughter’s nanny forever. So they could be other things.

Which was an idiotic reason to made career decisions.

He looked away and pushed off the counter. “Much though I hate the idea, Maddie will be an adult in far too few years. Off to college.”

Five and a half more years seemed like an eternity of living with him and fighting her attraction. But to a parent, it probably did feel like nothing.

He grabbed his tablet off the table and headed for the living room.

She should answer his question and head up to her room. Get away from him, douse the heat that had surrounded them since he sat down at the table with her. It was the smart thing to do.

Instead, she picked up her notebook and joined him in the living room. Since he was on the sofa, she took the loveseat. But it was still close enough for the tension to arc between them. Her skin buzzed with awareness of him.

She should have given her number to one of the guys she danced with on Friday.

“I don’t know. Schools aren’t really hiring teachers at the moment, so I guess I’ll keep feeling things out and see what pops up.”

He shot her a sideways glance. It took her a moment, then she realized he was side-eyeing her word choice.

Feeling things out. What pops up.

Oh, hell. Her subconscious was evil.

She laughed self-consciously. “So to speak.” At least they could have a sense of humor about a frustrating situation. “Anyway, for what it’s worth, I wouldn’t take any job until your season is over. I don’t know what the off-season is like, but I assume you don’t travel as much.”

“Not really.” He swiped at his tablet, not looking at her as he spoke. “Occasionally I have to go somewhere for a charity thing or an endorsement deal. But my mom could always come. Or I can find someone else.”

He shot her a glance, his eyes hooded and heated. “Another sitter.”

“Right.” Deep breath in. Deep breath out. The image of him with someone else in a non-nanny way sat uncomfortably in her gut. She couldn’t be with him, but it would kill her if she thought those whiskers were scratching up another woman’s cheeks.

Her thighs twitched with the need to crawl over the ottoman and straddle his lap.

A choked sound escaped her throat, absolutely without her permission, and he turned to her. His blue eyes were full of fire. Again without her permission, her legs straightened, lifting her to her feet. She took one involuntary step forward and he sat up a little straighter, his gaze never leaving her face.

“Bed,” she blurted out.

The flame in his eyes scorched her and he set his tablet on the couch next to him. “Carrie.” His voice was low, a gentle caress over her skin.

God, she wanted what would be so easy to take. What he was clearly offering. She couldn’t breathe from how much she wanted him.

“I need to go to bed.” She licked her lips; his eyes snapped to them, making her instantly regret her action.

“We shouldn’t—”

“Alone.”

The silence hanging between them was heavy. Palpable. Tense.

“Yes. You should do that now.” His voice was tight, a warning.

She snatched up her notebook and soda. “Good night, Seth.”

“Sweet dreams, Carrie.”

Sweet didn’t describe the dreams she would likely have. But he would star in all of them.