Chapter 3
How did it go last night for you?” Renee asks, pulling a sandwich out of her lunch bag.
I raise my eyebrow at the sandwich.
She smiles so wide I think her face is going to split. “It’s gluten-free, silly! Coop has been working on new bread recipes. I was missing sandwiches, so he’s been experimenting with recipes that are compliant with my diet that actually taste good. This one is my favorite so far. Have I mentioned how much I love the man?” Renee beams at me, love written all over her face.
My heart yearns for the kind of love she shares with her husband. She and Coop met when she interviewed him for the Raytown Reporter for a newspaper feature. She has an autoimmune disease and has a long list of foods she can’t eat, so he opened a new bakery location and made it completely gluten-free and compliant with everything she can and can’t eat so she could eat baked goods without getting sick. He goes out of his way to ensure the needs of Renee, and other people who can’t eat gluten, aren’t overlooked.
“Your husband is the best.” I smile, pushing my leftovers around in my bowl. I wish I had a man who cooked for me. Cooking is something I enjoy, but sometimes I want to be pampered in simple ways – like having someone cook for me and go out of their way to make something I like. “The parent-teacher night was the usual. Lots of helicopter parents. But there was this one dad...” I smile as I remember Roman. The fact is, I haven’t been able to stop thinking about him.
“Oooh, a single dad! Was he hot? Tell me he was hot. You need a hot man in your life!” Renee speaks quickly and looks at me, her eyes suddenly bright and filled with excitement.
“Down, girl,” I joke. “He was attractive,” I say carefully, trying to downplay how magnetically drawn I was to him. Despite being grumptastic, something about Tessa’s dad had me clenching my thighs together and trying to remember if my vibrator was fully charged. “But he was a total jerk. His daughter is the most talented writer I’ve ever had, but he thinks writing is a path to poverty.”
Renee puts down her sandwich. “Did you tell him about your books and what you’ve done?”
“I mentioned it but didn’t go into detail. The event last night was about the kids, not about us teachers. Not to mention his mind was already made up, and you know there’s no talking to someone like that. Besides, you know if I was a man, he wouldn’t have pushed back so hard.”
“Sadly, you’re probably right,” Renee sighs, shaking her head. “You’d think we’d be past that nonsense, but it never ends.”
“Yeah. In any case, I invited both of them to the Writing Open House tomorrow night, so hopefully, he’ll be open-minded enough to come. If he sees the possibilities and that there’s good money in writing, it might be possible to change his mind a little. I mean, look at you. How many long-form investigative pieces have you published nationally now?”
“More than a dozen,” she says, blushing. “I haven’t told anyone but Coop yet, but I have a book deal!”
“Oh my God, that’s amazing! I’m so pleased for you!”
“Thanks,” Renee says, beaming. “But back to your student and this hunky dad. For the sake of your student, I sure hope so, Marsha. It’s so hard to watch adults who try to stifle what their children are good at.”
I nod in agreement. “That’s honestly the hardest part of this job. I love teaching, but man, do I want to yell at some of the parents.”
“You’re doing admirable work, Marsha. Don’t you ever forget that. I know how much technical writing jobs pay, and your book royalties are probably nothing to sneeze at. You know this already, but I respect the hell out of you for pursuing your teaching degree and working to encourage kids to write.”
I can’t help the tears of love and happiness leaking from my eyes this time. Renee knows better than any friend of mine who isn’t a writer how hard it can be to pursue a job everyone expects you’ll fail at or that will leave you in perpetual poverty.
“Thank you, Renee. I love you, too,” I say, wiping my eyes and smiling at her. “That’s exactly why I’m doing this. I’m convinced that if we teach children how to express themselves better, people can lead happier lives. Too much bottling things up is only a bomb waiting to explode.”
“You don’t have to sell me on it.” Renee smiles.
“I know. It’s just hard not to get worked up about it.” I take a moment to center myself. “And thank you for agreeing to come to the Writing Open House. I know there are students who will be thrilled to talk to you.”
“Of course. Journalism doesn’t pay much, but we still need reporters.”
“Don’t downplay your achievements,” I chide Renee. “Don’t you have your second book coming out soon? I’ve lost count of all those investigative pieces you’ve been doing. You’re living your dream.”
“You’re right.” She beams. “I sent the book to my editor last week! Coop is thrilled because he says I’m finally out of my writing cave for more than meals and sleep.”
“I hope one day I find a man who loves me as much as Coop loves you,” I say, jealous that she found such a loving man.
“You will,” Renee says. “Don’t doubt that you’re an amazing, intelligent, and stunningly gorgeous woman. If that dad got you so hot and bothered, why not ask him out? What’s the worst that could happen?”
“As if,” I scoff, but I laugh. “You know I have a rule about not dating single dads. There’s inevitably too much drama with the mother of their child, and I’m not sure I have the energy for that. And who says I want to date him?”
“Hm, let’s see.” Renee grins. “He clearly made an impression on you and sounds like the kind of protective, grumpy man that makes you weak in the knees.”
I look away and shake my head. “You know me too well. But, as mentioned, I have no intention of dating a single dad, no matter how much I wanted to jump him.”
Renee looks at me for a long moment. “If you felt that strongly about him, maybe you should give it a chance. You’ve been single a long time, and you’re too precious not to have someone to share your life with.”
My eyes mist over with love for my friend. We met at a networking event for writers a few years ago and have been fast friends ever since.
“We’ll see.”
* * *
Renee”s wordsplay in my head when I’m at home drinking a glass of wine. The strong connection I felt with Roman, even though we only just met, feels…different. It’s been so long since I felt that kind of connection with anyone that it’s hard not to think that it could mean something.
Then I realize that maybe Renee is right. Maybe it is time for me to take a chance and be open to the possibilities with Roman. I’m sure there will be other times that our paths cross if Tessa remains my student.
The night of the parent-teacher conference, I spotted him across the auditorium and felt my heart skip a beat. I had no idea he was Tessa’s dad when I saw him. I remember feeling like all the air in my lungs had disappeared as I watched him. In a crowd of other mothers and fathers, Roman stood out like he was the only person in the auditorium. With his broad shoulders and thick hair, he looked like a bad boy who could make my body melt with just a few kisses. Standing there with his burly dad bod and his wild beard, he looked like a legend come to life.
Roman had this air of authority and no-nonsense, like a man who does an honest day’s work and lives with integrity, and it felt like suddenly looking at someone I desperately wanted to have in my life. When I realized who he was and we were speaking, his dark eyes were intense. It seemed as if he was looking for the person I am aside from being his daughter’s teacher.
After years of dating men who eventually found reasons to break up with me with flimsy excuses, I stopped feeling like I could trust a man if I were interested in him. Yet with Roman, I instinctively sensed that he was an honorable man I could trust, even though we disagreed about his daughter and writing as a possible career.
Even as we butted heads, I understood he respected me and wasn”t arguing to prove he knew my job better than I did.
There was also something about how he looked at me, like he was thinking about saying more but holding back. What might he have said if we had been somewhere more private?
A little tipsy and lightheaded from my wine, my imagination paints vivid pictures of Roman. I envision the tickle of his thick beard as he plants kisses all over my body.
Heat pools between my legs as I imagine his strong hands removing my clothes and exploring every inch of me.
Once I’m in bed, I let myself indulge in my fantasies, trailing my hand over my body and sliding my fingers through the hot slickness at my core. My body trembles as I stroke my swollen bud. My fingers move faster as I imagine Roman making love to me and leaving me breathless. My orgasm suddenly crests, making me moan loudly as I fall back on my pillows.
I catch my breath and snuggle under my covers. Roman is completely unlike any man I’ve ever met, and the ache of yearning I feel for him makes me want to break my rule about dating single dads.
I mentally shake my head, reminding myself that just because I’m powerfully attracted to the man doesn’t mean I should throw caution to the wind.
Yet I’m still left with a certainty that maybe it’s time for me to break my rule.