Ainsley blitzed through the afternoon math lesson and ended up with time to spare—everything this time of year was just a review of kindergarten—so they read Lily’s Big Day by Kevin Henkes again. Her students never got tired of hearing a story about a child (well, a mouse child) who wanted desperately to be her teacher’s flower girl, who wanted to be special to the people she loved. It was so delightfully relatable to them.
Posey raised her hand. “Are you going to get married, Miss Buchanan?”
“Yes, I think so. Someday.” She smiled at the kids, who were beaming at her. “Do you think I’d pick one of you to be my flower person?”
“No,” the kids chorused, giggling. Oh good; they actually listened to the story.
When she walked her gaggle of skipping, yawning, babbling students out to the buses, Kyle Durand was there to pick up Cooper, who broke ranks to run to him. Kyle Hot Stuff Durand, with his tousled brown hair, so dark it was almost black. His stormy brown eyes, the physique that showcased the benefits of daily exercise. He greeted his nephew too quietly for her to hear over the melee of students. The boy nodded, then shook his head, apparently reconsidering his first answer to whatever question he’d asked. Kyle looked up and caught her gaze. “He had a rough day?”
There was a momentary stand-off: he stared at her as though he were waiting for her to come to him or shout her answer across the hoards still pairing student with caregiver or mode of transportation. She crossed her arms and stared right back. With half a grin, he sauntered over to her slowly as if she didn’t have another ten kids waiting for her to put them on the bus. What the heck is so funny?
“In the future, I’d appreciate it if you encouraged Cooper to keep his tree-watering activities confined to your own yard.”
His eyes snapped to the boy in horror. “You didn’t.”
“I had a good reason!” Cooper shouted.
Dr. Durand ran a hand down his face. “It won’t happen again. Sorry.”
“Well, I’m satisfied with the time he’s served in the Think It Over Chair, but I wanted to make someone at home aware of the . . . issue.”
“Sure, yes. I will pass the message on to Philip. Sorry about that; I just figured it’s the kind of thing the boy should know, in case of a zombie apocalypse.”
Ainsley smiled in spite of herself. “A what?”
“Zombie apocalypse,” Kyle said, his brown eyes somber despite his ridiculous statement. How he kept a straight face, she’d never know. “We’ve gotta prepare the kids for what’s coming. As an educator, you play a key role, I’m surprised you don’t know all about it.”
“Thank you for your time, Dr. Durand,” Ainsley said, still smiling, walking backward, leading the line toward the rest of the buses. “See you Monday.”
“Only if the zombies don’t attack first,” he called back, and several teachers around them stopped to stare. Ainsley didn’t let herself laugh until she turned to put Damon, Denver, and Heaven on bus number 6.
CHAPTER TWO
KYLE SLAMMED HIS TRUCK door. What had gotten into him? Her shirt, that’s what. She was wearing that blouse he liked, the dark-blue see-through one with the rainbow trout on it. How she managed to make rainbow trout look cute and hot at the same time, he hadn’t been able to figure out. And he had spent considerable time thinking about it—while doing his laundry, at family dinners, working at the hospital . . . He felt a bit bad about that last one. But when he wasn’t working, he didn’t feel bad thinking about Ainsley. He was a good multitasker. He’d been doing it for years anyway. If he hadn’t gone to that dumb wedding, he wouldn’t have this problem.
“Are we going home or what?” Cooper called from the back seat. Kyle slid on his sunglasses and muttered under his breath about brothers and their unreasonable expectations. He’d agreed to pick up his nephew right after Philip had his second baby, and now, it was somehow expected he’d do it every day. If he didn’t get to see Ainsley, he’d have pawned Coop off on his mom weeks ago.
“Of course we are.”
“Then why are we just sitting here? I’m hungry.”
“You’re always hungry. It’s amazing your dad has any money at all.”
“I’m a growing boy. That’s what Mom says.” That did sound like Claire. Besides, the kid wasn’t overweight. No one could figure out where he put it all; his belly was like a black hole.
Kyle started the truck and turned onto the main road. The buses had already left. Ainsley had gone back inside. He’d realized something, engaged in a silent battle of wills over something as simple as a short conference. She was never going to come to him. Though he’d never said it out loud, that’s what he’d been waiting for, all this time. Waiting for her to see him, waiting for her to figure out why he tagged along with his brother as often as possible. But it wasn’t going to happen . . . so what were his other options? During that short walk across the concrete pickup area, he’d weighed them: 1.) Give up. But if his infatuation with her had lasted this long, he didn’t think it would die just because he wanted it to, just because he was scared. It was like a raccoon in a koi pond; it just kept coming back. He suspected that his autism was playing a role in his fascination with her, but he couldn’t be sure. 2.) Keep waiting. That hadn’t worked so far. 3.) Go after her. It wasn’t like he hadn’t thought of it. He had, of course he had. But it wasn’t his style; he’d never needed to before. In high school and in college, he’d had plenty of women who’d made their interest clear, most of them with dollar signs over their eyes like cartoon characters. It was widely known that his family was fairly well-off; his trust from Grandpa Tank had allowed him to have a nice down payment for his house.
But that wasn’t Ainsley. Two years younger than him, she’d never been part of his circle of friends. And if she had liked him, she had too much self-respect to be overt about her feelings. So today, he’d flirted with her. At least he thought he had. She’d smiled. That was a good start. Phase One: Win Ainsley’s Attention. As mad as he was at himself for getting into this without a solid plan, at least he hadn’t completely screwed up.
Now I just need a Phase Two . . .
“SO, COOP,” PHILIP STARTED, passing the mashed potatoes down the table to Kyle, “how was your day?” Claire had expected Kyle to stay as usual; dinner was his payment for picking up Cooper. Since he started his shifts at 7 p.m., picking him up at 3:30 wasn’t bad, and he did get a free meal out of it.
“Miss Buchanan’s getting married.”
Kyle stopped chewing his steak. “What did you say?”
“That’s wonderful,” Claire cooed, tossing her straight red hair. “Who’s she marrying?”
Cooper shrugged, poking at the sautéed green beans on his plate.
Wonderful? thought Kyle. That’s the worst news I’ve ever heard. Also, is that little sneak trying to divert attention from Tree-Peeing Gate?
“She didn’t say?” Claire probed.
Cooper shook his head, and Kyle turned to his sister-in-law.
“You’re the queen of Timber Falls gossip, why haven’t I heard about this?”