I glance at the clock, seeing that it’s nearly six thirty, but I’m not worried. Gina’s father gave me a call before lunch, and he’ll be here soon. I just wish he’d hurry up. I love my work, but tonight’s special.

“Mrs. Bishop?” Gina asks me as I click Save on the last file I’m doing today. “When are you coming back?”

I look down at my belly, rubbing the swelling bulge underneath my t-shirt, and smile. “Don’t worry, I plan on still coming to school. But I’m going to have to take it easy for a while. You don’t know how hard it is keeping up with you and twenty of your classmates.”

Gina, who just turned eight and is an only child, has shown a massive amount of fascination with my pregnancy. More than once, she’s come up during breaks in class to touch my belly. “But you’ve got months before the baby comes. My mommy said it’s not coming until Christmas break.”

“True,” I admit, “but the doctor told me that it’d be better if I kept to just doing administrative work. I’m sure Miss Richards will do a great job of teaching you guys. She taught elementary school for five years before coming here.”

She nods and goes back to her homework. Starting a private school has been the challenge of my lifetime, and it would have been impossible without the help of my friends in town. Whether it was the generous contribution from my wealthy former employers or the support from my friend Cassie and her husband Caleb that helped me refurbish the old building near the university to bring it up to code, Blue Water Academy was just a pipe dream without their help.

And Hayden. My beloved husband has used his own rising fame to bring in support. You’d be shocked at the amount of cookies you can sell at a bake sale when you have a man as good-looking as him pitching them. With him using his fame to only take big-money modeling contracts, he’s home more than most husbands. In the past year, he’s been away from home only three weeks total. Hard, but when I consider that we get to spend twenty-four hours a day together the other forty-nine weeks . . . I’ll take it.

“Mrs. Bishop?” Gina asks again, interrupting my thoughts as I look around the room. We’ve got four classrooms now, a kindergarten and three rooms divided into two-year combined classes. With a small gym, a bus, and a big playground in the back, we’re already looking at having to expand in the next two years to deal with the number of applications we’re getting.

“Yes, Gina?” I reply, turning away from the class picture on the wall. “Are you getting hungry?”

“A little,” she admits, “but I had a question. Mommy says you are Cinderella. What does she mean? You don’t have a pumpkin carriage.”

I laugh softly. I guess the title does fit, in a certain way. “Your mommy is just saying that she thinks I’m lucky to have found my husband. I’ll let you in on a secret . . . I think your mommy’s right.”

There’s a knock on the classroom door and I look to see Gina’s father on the security monitor. She sees, too, and goes to the back, getting her backpack. “See you later, Mrs. Bishop.”

“Have a good weekend, Gina,” I reply, walking her to the door. Opening the door, I see Gina give her father a big hug, kissing him on the cheek. “Thanks for the call earlier, Mr. Farnham.”

Her father shakes his head, smiling. “Thank you for being so helpful, Emily. I’m sorry mine and my wife’s jobs make us late sometimes, but I know my little girl is safe while she’s here.”

“How is Dr. Farnham anyway?” I ask. “Working night shift?”

“Life of an ER doc,” he says with a shrug. “She’ll be off second shift in three weeks and back to days. Speaking of the hospital, you make sure you take care of that little one inside you. Have you found out if it’s a boy or a girl yet?”

I shake my head, knowing that there’s a betting pool going around the school and among the PTA for whether I have a boy or a girl and the delivery date. “Nope, not yet. I’m hoping for a girl, and Hayden wants a boy. What can you say?”

“You can say that I’m a monster daddy who wants a little boy who’ll play for the Yankees,” a low, amused voice says from behind Mr. Farnham. I can’t help but grin as Hayden steps forward from the parking lot. I hadn’t expected him back until tomorrow.

“Hey, beautiful.”

I step out, hugging him as Gina and her father wave their goodbyes. I feel that stomach-dropping thrill just like I always do as he picks me up and carries me back inside the classroom. “How’d the shoot for Diesel go?”

“Smooth as silk,” Hayden says, kissing my neck. “All I had to do was think of you, and they said I had the ‘male sex gaze’ down to a science. And everyone’s cool with the fact that I’m not doing shoots for the next six months. I’m gonna be a stay-at-home Daddy for the foreseeable future.”

Hayden’s lips trail down my neck to suck and nip just below my jaw, sending thrills through my body. “Hey . . .” I half moan, stepping back. “Isn’t this against school rules?”

Hayden gives me a naughty smile and turns around, locking the classroom door. “Yeah,” he growls, picking up a jar of red tempera paint that we use for art projects. “Here we go.”

“What are you doing?” I giggle as Hayden picks up a paintbrush, his eyes sparkling as he looks at me. “Oh, hell, no. Hayden Bishop, I swear, if you—”

Hayden stops and pulls his shirt open, exposing his chiseled torso. I know it’s stupid, and he can turn me on with a glance anytime, but when Hayden has to get a little more ripped for a photo shoot for the ‘stud’ fashion lines . . . yeah, I got pregnant after a particularly active weekend when he was prepping for a photo shoot for Under Armour.

Now, I just watch in horny fascination as he whips his shirt off and takes the top off the paint, dipping the brush in before painting a line down his chest. I follow it down from the swell of his pecs and down over the washboard of his abs before he stops as he hits his belt. “Well, teacher? You want to help me with my art project?”

To hell with it. There’s a few benefits to being one of the co-owners and administrative staff of the school, and that includes being able to break the rules when I want. I reach for the buttons on my blouse, biting my lip as my heart speeds up and the familiar but always delicious tingle starts between my legs and around my nipples. “I was thinking,” I reply as I reach the swell of my belly, “that maybe we could make this a partner project?”

Hayden lets out an aroused growl as I finish unbuttoning my blouse and slide it from my shoulders to drop to the floor. “I think I want to paint you now.”

I smile and reach between my breasts to the clasp of my bra. “Just one thing . . . nothing on the tender parts. They say that stuff’s non-toxic, but I don’t want to lick paint off your cock.”

Hayden grins and dips the brush into the paint again. “So we have some fun painting, then we go home and—”

“And have fun washing it all off,” I agree, unhooking my bra. “Think of it as your homework.”

Hayden steps forward, his voice lowering to a sexy growl. “I love school.”

So do I.