Page 8

K ENDALL

“Miss Wentworth?” Charlene, one of the administrative assistants, taps on my open door. “Your ten o’clock meeting is here.”

“My what?” I look up from the stack of alphabet letters I’m cutting out. “I don’t have a meeting on the calendar.”

“Mr. Chambers just finished meeting with him and said you were meeting with the father next. He’s in the conference room.”

I’m usually really good at keeping up with my calendar. I check my schedule again and don’t see anything slotted for my forty minute break. It’s the only time I have to breathe during the day, when the kids are at their specials.

Today is music so they’ll be antsy and tapping on their desks when they return. I take a few sips from my water bottle and straighten my skirt on my way to the conference room, forcing my welcoming teacher smile.

“Good morning. I’m—” I pause in the doorway and my lips drag so far south they’re touching my boobs. “What are you doing here?”

I hate how good Nash looks as he stands.

The scruff on his face is unnecessary. He’s already ridiculously handsome in a Henry Cavill way.

Not exactly the nice guy Clark Kent vibes.

More like when he stumbled around half naked and ripped a pair of pants and shirt off a clothesline to cover his naked body vibes.

Hot, bothered, a little dirty.

Except Nash is fully clothed. Not that I don’t have the image of him in only his boxer briefs burned in my skull. His big frame takes up too much space in our small conference room meant for no more than four adults. We usually use this room for our speech and occupational therapists.

There are no windows, and if I close the door behind me, no one will see or hear us. Unless he pisses me off even more and I’m forced to go ape shit on him. Again.

His navy-blue Revolutions shirt stretches across his stupid muscles that make my vagina hum. Traitorous body.

“Have a seat.”

I glance over my shoulder and watch Mr. Chambers return to his office.

Shit. Did Nash follow through with his threat to slander my reputation?

I’ll strangle him. Doubtful my hands will fit around his thick neck, but I can crush him with my thighs.

Pilates and yoga have made my lower body damn strong.

I close the door behind me and lean across the small table, jabbing at him with my finger in the air.

“Fuck you and your misogynistic asshole views of women. Because I like to go out to bars and dance with my girlfriends means I’m a slut and not a good teacher?

You push, you tackle, you take down others for a living.

You’re rough, physical, and arrogant on the field.

That must mean you’re a rough, physical, and angry father as well.

Should I contact child protective services and have Paisley removed from your guardianship? ”

Nash’s eyes grow wide and he clenches his jaw. I watch as his shoulders lift then ease as he lets out a slow breath. The wave of emotions flows through him from rage to anger to understanding to, I don’t know about this last one. Compassion? Understanding?

“Kendall...” His voice is low and deep as he nods to the chair across from him.

“It’s Miss Wentworth.” Whatever he has to say isn’t going to be good, but I take a seat anyway. “My friends call me Kendall. My students and their parents call me Miss Wentworth.”

I fold my hands in front of me and set them on the table, keeping my posture straight and my shoulders back.

Nash nods and sits. His stupid long legs bump into mine and I quickly pull my feet back and tuck them under my chair.

“I was out of line yesterday.”

I snort. “You think?” Damn. I need to work on holding back some of my snark.

“I apologize for some of the things I said to you.”

Wait. What? So he didn’t tell vicious lies to my boss? And he’s apologizing? Poker isn’t my game, but I know how to put on a show. Right now, I’m putting on a show of an emotionless teacher.

“ Some . Which things are you apologizing for?”

Nash lets out a sigh and rubs the back of his neck. “I was rude and disrespectful to you. I didn’t mean what I said.”

Again, not what I anticipated coming out of his mouth. Still not good enough though. “There were a lot of words said. Please refresh my memory as to which words you didn’t mean and which words you did. Just so it’s clear.”

Yeah. I’m going to make him repeat the cruel words just to make him cringe.

If I thought the apology was forced, it wouldn’t matter, but the guilt on his face seems genuine.

Riley is adamant he’s a nice guy, and his parents are super sweet.

If he’s truly one of the good guys, then I want him to feel the guilt deep down to his core.

Call me petty, but I’m a woman who doesn’t bend to any man.

Unless it’s over a table. My eyes flick to the space next to us and I have a quick flash of me draped over it and Nash taking me from behind. I shake the thought away and clear my throat, waiting for his response.

“I’m not going to repeat it, Kendall.”

“Miss Wentworth.”

Nash closes his eyes and dips his head. “I was frustrated and stressed when I came to pick up Paisley. You didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of my tongue lashing.”

Dear God. Does everything that comes out of his mouth have to be a sexual innuendo or euphemism?

I’m not letting him off the hook so easily though.

I cross my arms and tilt my head, waiting for him to continue.

Watching him squirm in his seat almost has me cracking my facade and smirking. I bite it back.

“I’m thankful and appreciative for your help on Monday. My dad’s bronchitis is getting worse, and now my mom is sick as well.”

I drop my elbows and soften my glare. “Your mother too? Is there anyone taking care of them? Anything I can do?”

It’s a stupid question. I don’t know them and there’s not much I can do. I’m not a nurse. The knee-jerk response to care for those in need is inherent.

The line between Nash’s brows furrows as if he’s confused by my reaction. “Um. They’ll be okay. Thanks.”

I nibble on my bottom lip. Nash’s dark eyes drop to my mouth and his tongue darts across his lower lip. I hadn’t meant it to be a seductive move, but here we are.

“Let’s get back to that apology, shall we?” I cross my arms again and his gaze lowers to my cleavage.

It’s momentary, so brief I almost don’t even notice it, but that’s probably only because my top isn’t low cut. I don’t dress to impress five year olds. I dress for the job, but also to feel good about myself as well. My top is conservative, if not slightly form fitting.

My bra and panties, though...they’re porn star worthy. I wear them for me and me alone.

“I was out of line, Ken—Miss Wentworth. I’m sorry for making you feel like...”

“A slut?”

I appreciate the grimace that takes over his handsome face.

“A cheap floozy who instructs kindergartners on how fuck can be used as a noun, verb, adverb, adjective, interjection, and pronoun?”

Nash lifts his gaze to meet mine and blinks a few times. He opens his mouth as if to say something, closes it, then says, “I must have missed that grammar lesson. Verb and adjective, I get. Noun, interjection, and pronoun?”

I roll my eyes. “Pronoun. I punched fuck-face in the throat when he insulted me. Conjunction. I punched him in the face, fuck the consequences. Noun. I don’t give a fuck.”

“Would fuck-face be a proper noun?”

“It’s universal.”

“Maybe I should drop in on your class. Sounds like I need a lesson in fucking.”

I choke. He chokes. And not in a sexual way, unfortunately.

“I mean...I didn’t mean...”

I hold up my hand to stop him from having to explain. “You suck at apologizing.”

Fuck. Suck. Choking.

Had I known Nash was going to crash my day, I would have packed another pair of panties. Not that I like him or anything. Just because he’s pretty doesn’t change the fact that he’s an asshole.

Nash nods. “I spoke with your principal—”

“The fuck? How dare you tell him lies!”

No one would say I have a clean mouth, but I don’t usually drop the F bomb four hundred times in a ten minute conversation unless I’m wasted. Definitely not in the conference room at my place of employment.

“I wanted to introduce myself since I haven’t been able to make any of the school events this year, and to tell him how much my daughter loves her kindergarten teacher. I also told him how kind you were to help my parents out the other day.”

“Oh.” I fold my hands and rest them on the table in front of me, unsure what to do with them. Hug him. Slap him for being an idiot. Reach for the door and flee before I climb him like a koala.

“Seeing you out of context threw me for a loop. We’ve only met a handful of times, and the situation has always been, well, not kindergarten friendly.”

I remain quiet, not wanting to accept his apology but no longer wanting to fight him either.

Nash runs his thumbnail along the grain of the wood in the table. “I’m protective of my daughter. Some may say I’m over protective.”

I can’t fault him there. I’ve witnessed too much child neglect in my job, even working at a private school. It’s not wealth or the fancy vacations that make children feel loved, it’s time and attention. Something I haven’t seen from Paisley’s father.

Now I understand why. Sort of.

“I don’t trust anyone but my family with my daughter.

She’s never had a babysitter other than my parents and my sister, when we lived closer.

Learning my parents allowed someone I’d never met to take care of her, allowed a stranger into my home, well, it pissed me the hell off. But you weren’t in the wrong.”

“I appreciate your apology.” It doesn’t change the fact that he thinks I’m a slut, but as long as he keeps his personal, incredibly incorrect opinion of me to himself, I can get over it. I’ve been called worse. Treated worse.

I still don’t like the man though.

We sit for a moment in silence. There’s nothing for me to say, and it seems like Nash is out of words, so I reach for the door handle.

“Kendall.”

I raise my brow and give him my teacher's stare.

“Miss Wentworth.” He huffs out another sigh and tucks his hands into the front pockets of his jeans as if nervous. “I was wondering if...”

Oh, lordy. Is he asking me out? Shit. What should I say? If I say yes, does that make me appear cheap and easy like he’d accused me of being? If I say no, does that ruin the possibility of ever seeing his body all the way naked?

Shit. Do I even want to go out with a man who says such horrid things, even if his body puts every Marvel superhero to shame?

“My parents are still ill and I won’t get out of training tonight until after seven.”

On school nights, I eat dinner by six and am in bed by ten, but I can make an exception. Wait. Does that mean I’m going to say yes? I feel my cheeks burning, and I’m not a blusher. I’m usually the one who makes others blush.

He reaches behind his neck and scratches again. The bulge in his bicep pumps up like a mountain peak I so want to climb.

“Would you, uh...would you be able to bring Paisley home, feed her dinner, and hang out with her until I get home?”

Well. Fuck. Me. Now. And not in the vagina. Sexy Daddy wants me to be his babysitter, not his playmate.

Tucking his hand back in his pocket again, he rocks back on his heels. “I can tell by your expression you weren’t expecting me to ask you that.”

“You think?”

“Asking you to watch Paisley after insulting you and being ungrateful yesterday makes me—”

“A jackass.” I’m mad at myself for even considering going out with him when I should be more upset that he’s only using me as a babysitter.

Because I don’t appreciate being taken advantage of, I go into full attack mode. “Tell me this, Mr. Humphries. If you didn’t so desperately need me to watch your daughter tonight, would you have even come in here to apologize or would you have carried on like any other day in your entitled life?”

“Honestly?”

“No. Please lie to me.”

“I would have apologized eventually. Would I have gone out of my way? Probably not. I’m sure I’d run into you at a game or at an event with Riley and Walker and apologize then.”

Hell. I can’t fault him for his honesty.

“Paisley likes you. I don’t trust anyone but family with my daughter, and I’m trusting you.”

“Am I supposed to feel honored?”

“If you loved my daughter as much as I do, yes. But I don’t expect that. Not even from my parents. She’s the center of my entire world, and I make no apologies for looking out for her best interest and making sure she’s cared for, loved, and even spoiled.”

Love and hate are kinda the same thing, right? Because I freaking love and hate the words coming out of Nash’s mouth. Still, I don’t want to appear as a pushover. I’ll never again allow a man to walk all over me.

“Let’s get one thing straight.” I tug at the bottom of my blouse and run my hands down my thighs, straightening my skirt.

“I don’t forgive you yet for being a douchebag.

The only reason I’ll help is because your parents are sweet and I don’t want them to stress out while being so sick.

And because your daughter is a cool kid who doesn’t need to learn what a fucktard asshole her father is. ”

“Is fucktard an adjective in that sentence?” The corner of Nash’s lip lifts and lowers faster than a blink.

Ignoring his wise-assness—that I appreciate too much—I open the door and toss over my shoulder. “Leave her car seat in the office.”

“I already did,” he says to my retreating back.

Fucking confident asshole.