Chapter 4
Chloe
Kolya bends close to my ear and whispers low-pitched words meant only for me. “Let’s go.”
Not a suggestion…a command.
My body obeys before my mind can even form a protest.
His unyielding hand stays on the small of my back, his palm spanning the curve as if he’s staking a claim.
My breath catches, a betraying hitch I pray he doesn’t notice.
His touch—proprietary, possessive—burns through my yellow sundress as he steers me away from the shattered cheer of the farmers market.
Kolya—a wall of solid muscle—did a much better job of stopping the purse snatchers than I could have.
Like an action star, he downed both would-be thieves in seconds.
We navigate through the market in a cocoon, the crowd parting around us, whispers trailing in our wake like smoke.
Fingers point.
Phones rise.
Someone yells for security.
With Kolya’s presence warning them off, none of it touches us.
I clutch my purse to my chest, heart hammering so loudly, I’m sure Kolya can hear.
One moment, I was talking about my favorite tomato soup recipe. The next, violence erupted. The crack of bone still echoes in my head, along with the memory of that man’s knee bending sideways.
Kolya barely moved, and bodies still dropped like flies.
That should probably terrify me. Instead, heat pools low in my belly, and my skin becomes alive where his palm brands my back.
No romance novel ever prepared me for the way danger smells up close, all expensive cologne and controlled violence. The way it walks calmly beside you, carrying your bruised apples after nearly killing two men.
No freaking way is this guy like any regular kindergarten parent.
Kolya’s clinical, assessing gaze rakes over me. “You’re still shaking.”
True, but not from fear. At least, not entirely.
“I’m okay.” My voice comes out breathy and ridiculous. “Just…processing.”
We reach the parking lot, and he angles me toward my beat-up Volvo. I blink, startled, when he fishes keys from his pocket and the Audi in the adjacent spot chirps.
“What a coincidence.” The words tumble out. “You’re right next to me.”
His mouth twitches into an almost-smile. “Such a coincidence.”
I fumble with my own keys, nearly dropping them twice before I manage to pop the trunk. Kolya sets the apples inside, then lifts the bag from my shoulder, his fingers grazing mine. Each point of contact sizzles like a jolt of static.
“Thank you.” I linger, rearranging things in my trunk that don’t need rearranging. A pack of construction paper. My emergency sweater. Anything to keep him here a little longer.
He watches with odd stillness and those dark, appraising eyes. I wonder what he sees.
A hot mess in a sundress? A strong, attractive woman? A damsel in distress?
Don’t be absurd, Chloe. He’s probably not thinking anything at all.
Men like him don’t look at women like me in that way. He probably has supermodels on speed dial. Women who sleep in push-up bras and stilettos and don’t sing “The Alphabet Song” to children for a living.
And yet I still want to ask him to dinner or a movie.
A movie.
As if someone like him would sit through a rom-com with a kindergarten teacher. I bet he spends his weekends racing motorcycles or teaching Krav Maga, not watching actors pretend to fall in love while snacking on overpriced popcorn.
I push hair back from my face, acutely aware of my unkempt appearance.
“Well…thanks. I appreciate it. Those guys were trying to steal my purse, and you just…” My voice falters as the memory replays.
His elbow connecting with that guy’s throat, the sickening snap of the other one’s arm and kneecap, his predatory grace…
How do you thank someone for unleashing hell on your behalf? For showing you a darkness that should frighten you but instead sends your pulse racing?
I have no words.
“Anyway.” I try to inject myself with brightness. “Maybe I’ll see you at the next open house? With Manny?”
Kolya rests casually against my car. “Actually, I was thinking I might help you get all this into your classroom. Seems like a lot to carry alone.”
My heart stutters into a sprint. “That would be…” I catch the overeager words crowding my tongue. Too much? Hot? Arousing? “…really helpful. Thank you.”
He gives me a slow smile, and the scar across his eyebrow glints in the light.
My stomach flips, then churns.
“I’ll follow you,” he says.
A promise.
Or a threat.
I don’t know which one I prefer.
Half an hour later, unlocking my classroom door proves more difficult than trying to tie shoelaces with mittens on. My tingling fingers fumble the keys again. Kolya, who’s holding the bag from the farmers market, is so close behind me that I swear his breath touches my neck.
Not helping.
Metal scrapes against the lock, once, twice, before finally catching.
The door swings open, and the familiar scents of tempera paint and dry-erase markers roll out like the welcoming committee. I shuffle inside, wildly aware of my own body—heart thundering in my chest, skin prickling everywhere his gaze touches, breath coming short and quick.
“Sorry for the disaster zone.” I nod toward the avalanche of construction paper perched precariously above the cubbies. My voice, too high and airy, sounds strange in my ears.
It’s a classroom. Not a bedroom. There’s no privacy. Calm down.
“I saw it last night.” Kolya’s eyes slide over me, then the room, then return to me. It’s like being undressed and weighed, but in a way that’s less humiliating and more…superhot. I place my bag on the reading table and attempt to steady my breathing.
His stare scrambles my thoughts.
Most attractive guy to ever hold a sack of apples. Look at those veins in his forearm.
Focus, Chloe!
“You can set those over there, thank you.” I point to the counter by the sink, desperate for anything normal to fixate on.
Kolya doesn’t comment. He’s scanning everything. The shelves, the rainbow-sorted bins, the alphabet cards strung above the whiteboard. His gaze lingers on the empty corner by the reading nook, where my beautiful globe once stood.
The school’s new “non-approved items” policy meant my globe had to go home last week.
I haven’t had the piece long, but I’d planned such great lessons with it. I’d even thought about filling the interior bar area with prizes for good behavior, if I ever figured out how to open it.
At least my oversize beanbag chairs got to stay. The kids will love them during silent reading time.
I doubt Kolya’s enjoying the decor. But what exactly is he doing? He’s too still, too composed. Hyper-focused.
On the lookout for more bad guys in hoodies?
I hesitantly touch his arm. “You okay?” A lot of people have weird reactions to empty schools. The echoing halls and lingering smells can flag old memories, good and bad.
He stares at me for a beat too long, his eyes remote, then a smile crosses his handsome face. “Great.” He sets the apples down on the counter. “What’s next?”
I suppress a shiver.
I’m not sure why. His lips turn up, his gaze narrowing just a little.
But those calculating, penetrating eyes remain cold.
As handsome as he is, that smile is wrong. A mask sliding into place.
I shake myself. That’s mean. I shouldn’t think that about someone who just saved me half an hour ago.
I mention needing to move a stack of supply bins from the floor to the shelves, and we get to work. He lifts all the bins in one fluid motion, muscles shifting beneath his jacket.
My body responds to his physical proximity, his every action, with embarrassing eagerness.
He’s nothing like a fumbling dad helping out of obligation. Efficient, controlled, powerful. He carries boxes I struggle with, arranges furniture with minimal effort. Every shift of his body warps the air between us, pushing against me with an invisible touch.
I’m getting all hot and bothered.
Get it together, Chloe.
No more acting like a teen girl with her first crush. “I need to grab some scissors from the main supply closet. Be right back.” I slip out into the hallway and close the door behind me, the cool air a relief against my flushed skin.
I’ve barely taken three steps down the freshly mopped hall when Robbie pokes her head out of her classroom across from mine, coffee mug in hand.
“Look at you go, Miss Chloe.” She fixes me with a Cheshire cat grin. Her curly brown hair, threaded with gray, might as well be a seniority chip. “You roped a parent into manual labor.”
Despite getting caught in an illicit act, I return her grin. No teacher should be as aroused at work as I currently am. “He’s a lifesaver! But don’t tell the principal. I know she doesn’t like people here after hours.”
Robbie chuckles, covering her lips with unmanicured fingers. “I won’t. Don’t let him escape. These fathers are tricky.”
I laugh a little too hard, panic flaring. Oh goodness, did he hear that? “Oh, he’s very…” Don’t say dangerous. Or drool-worthy. “Dependable.” And divorced, my brain helpfully supplies.
Stupid brain, I did not need that reminder.
Robbie, clearly a mind reader, squeezes my arm. “And single? Don’t worry. I won’t rat you out.” She flashes me a knowing smile and disappears back into her room.
The sudden silence in the hallway triggers my kindergarten-honed instincts.
Quiet equals trouble.
I veer back toward my classroom, straining to hear. Everything’s utterly still. No movement. No sound of boxes shifting. Nothing.
I shake my head.
He’s not a five-year-old. He’s not eating paste or using scissors to give the class hamster a haircut. He’s just sitting down, playing games on his phone.
Probably.
Still, a tiny chill crawls up my spine as I head toward the supply closet in the first-grade wing.
I take my time. Because while I’m away from him, I can dream a little about what might happen when I return.
About those strong hands. That intense gaze focused solely on me, that big, muscled body on top of mine…
That image shoots a quiver all the way down to my toes.
He’s a stranger. One of my student’s parents, sure, but a stranger. And we’re basically by ourselves. While Robbie’s across the hall, she could leave at any time. We don’t always check in with each other before heading out. And then Kolya and I would truly be alone.
From the farmers market, I know he’s capable of violence.
But he did that to protect me.
The man exudes a danger that seeps into the air around him…and lures me in.
The least I can do is leave my door open so we’re not completely isolated. That would be good etiquette, too, considering I’m at work. I stop at the entrance to my classroom and pause, listening.
Nothing.
I push the door open.
Kolya’s peering through the gap between door and frame, one hand slipped inside his jacket, his expression flat and alert.
He looks like a cop in a movie who’s ready to enter a house and hunt down a criminal.
For a second, I’m frozen, unable to process what I’m seeing. What he’s doing. What he could be reaching for in his jacket.
He regards me with laser-focused eyes. “Thought I heard something out there.”
I involuntarily rear back. “Oh. Right. Sure.”
It almost looked like he was ready to…pull a gun? But that’s ridiculous. I’m not living in a novel.
Still. Who acts like they’re gearing up for a shoot-out when they hear a noise?
Guys who break people’s arms and throats at farmers markets, that’s who.
My not-very-well-developed red flag detector is suddenly on high alert.
A shiver scurries up my arms.
I try to laugh. “Auditory hallucinations are a teacher’s occupational hazard. I swear, empty halls can make anyone jumpy.”
My forced smile doesn’t help.
He just keeps watching me, his gaze unreadable.
Those eyes belong to a predator.
For the first time, I realize I might be the prey.
A thrill buzzes through my body, leaving my fingers tingling.
Do I want to be Kolya’s prey?
I’m unsure. And this isn’t the time to decide.
“Well, we’re pretty much done here.” I keep my voice steady, but I’m crazy aware of him behind me as I gather my stuff.
I reach for my keys to lock up, only to find they’re not in my pocket.
I check my bag, the counter, under a stack of construction paper.
Nothing. I know he’s observing every movement, each little fidget.
My heart rate spikes. “I had them right here…”
He’s closer now, glancing over my shoulder. The air thickens whenever he’s near, heavy and charged.
“Searching for these?”
My keys dangle from his fingers. “They were still hanging in the lock.”
I take them, electricity zapping up my arm when my hand brushes his. “Thanks.” I sound so breathy.
Embarrassing.
He doesn’t move away. Just continues to invade my space, his presence a physical weight.
“Thanks again for all your help today.” At the farmers market, where you almost killed two men. And here, where I would almost swear you stole my keys.
What was I thinking, bringing this strange man to my empty classroom?
“Guess you owe me.” His voice is low, teasing. But his expression is anything but joking. He watches me with intensity, dark gaze flicking over my face and hovering on my lips.
My mind instantly generates a highlight reel of all the dirty ways I could pay him back, each more inappropriate than the last.
I still don’t even know his last name. Novak, if it’s the same as Manny’s.
A knock at the door saves me from myself.
Robbie, thank God.
She pokes her head in, her smile bright. “Chloe, I’ll be starting on the big welcome poster for the hallway if you want to help? Once you’re done with your volunteer over there.” Robbie gives Kolya a not-at-all-subtle once-over.
Heat scorches my face, and a twinge of jealousy zips through me. “In a minute.”
Robbie grins and vanishes, leaving us alone again. Clutching my keys, I usher Kolya toward the door.
“Really, thanks again. You were…” Don’t say scary. “Um. Incredible.”
“Sounds like you need to get to helping with other things. I’ll leave you to it.” Then he’s gone, his departure as efficient as everything else he does.
As soon as the door closes behind him, relief slides through me like cool water. I lean against the thick wood, heart still racing.
I got out of that okay.
But as I spare a moment to catch my breath, I can’t help but wonder…
What exactly did I just escape from?