HaveIspentallday mentally preparing for Nate to come into my class? Yes. Because after the whole Howard Putty incident in the park, I’m certain that I’m destined to make a fool out of myself in front of this man for eternity.
The door opens, and Walker yells, “Uncle Nate! Told you guys.” He looks at his friends with the proudest grin. He’s been telling his friends all day that Nate would be in our class today.
“Walker,” I warn softly with a smile.
He sits tall in his chair, waving at Nate, who nods and winks at him. Goodness gracious.
Be still my heart.
When his eyes meet mine, his smile drops. Taken aback, my head jerks as my eyebrows dip.
“Ms. Andrews,” he says coolly.
“Deputy Moore.” I narrow my eyes.
Is it just me, or is his lack of enthusiasm offensive? It’s a contrast to our recent encounters. He should be happy to enter my classroom. I’m a joy to work with. I’ve got teachers lining up wanting to be my work wife. I make cookies and bring them to school, help plan their classes, and decorate for each season.
I’m a peach.
I’m better than a peach. I’m the entire orchard.
Sitting at my desk, I grab a red pen and the stack of tests I’ve procrastinated grading. I hold back my laughter as I glance out of the corner of my eye and watch him squat down and sit. He looks like a giant in a regular person’s world.
When my eyes scan the length of him, pausing on the way his trousers stretch over his thighs, the bubbling laughter catches and turns into a fiery flame inside of me. The man knows how to fill in a deputy uniform in a way that should only be legal in romance novels.
The fabric does nothing to hide the hard and defined muscles. After seeing him at the park, I have true confirmation that Nate Moore works hard for his muscles.
The children giggle when Nate shifts in the chair. To be fair, I fit just fine on it, but then again, I’m five-foot-two where he must be about six feet. I didn’t imagine he’d look this big on it.
“Hello all, I’m Deputy Moore.”
“My uncle!” Walker calls out.
“Walker,” Nate warns. “Manners, buddy.” He looks at the class and continues. “I’ll be coming to your class on Wednesdays to teach you all about safety rules.”
His eyes move to mine, and he silently lifts his eyebrows. If he’s trying to communicate telepathically, I’m not catching what he’s saying. He clears his throat and focuses back on the students, bringing out a picture book titled:Safety Steve Fights Danger David.
I bite down my smile and keep my eyes on the tests while my ears are completely focused on the story Nate reads to the kids. I hadn’t realized how sexy it was to watch a man read a book to a bunch of children, but the way he deepens his voice and makes it rise in certain parts as if he were the character is enough to make me want to get down on my knees and propose.
Kidding. Not happening. It’s a metaphor.
Don’t forget your single-not-ready-to-mingle status, Lizzy.
Regardless, I risk peeking up to get a glimpse of the man when one of my students blurts out a comment about the story. He’s smiling at the kids with a boyish grin that would be found in the dictionary next to the word Heartbreaker.
After he finishes the story, Nate looks at the class and begins discussing the story with them.
“What do you think Safety Steve did that helped keep Danger David away?”
Walker’s hand shoots up, and Nate calls on him.
“He didn’t talk to David and ran to his friends.”
“That’s right, and what else did he do after that?” Nate prompts.
“He told his mom,” Walker adds.
I smile as I listen, enjoying seeing my class get involved in the story. Teaching children about safety is so important, and I think it’s great that the county is taking steps to improve that aspect of education.