16. Duck Duck, Goose （Or Duck, Duck, Grey Duck if you’re wrong）
SIXTEEN
DUCK DUCK, GOOSE (OR DUCK, DUCK, GREY DUCK IF YOU’RE WRONG)
CLIO
I stride into school in a fugue state, my thoughts occupied by the lyrics to “Wonderwall.” I’m not at all focused on what else has happened since then.
Nope. I haven’t been thinking about that kiss, or the way his hands felt roaming over my body, and I definitely haven’t thought about saying yes to his fake engagement-with-benefits proposal. That would be ludicrous. A bridge too far. A wardrobe into fucking Narnia.
“Clio!” The distant sound of my name being called snaps me out of my trance-like state. Jeff Smith, the PE teacher, waves me over. “You’re with me today.”
Why the school chose to host its library fundraiser so soon after the Willow Tree festival is a mystery for the ages, but here I am, volunteering in the name of literacy.
The gym is already set up with multiple tables and stations for games, as well as a bake sale and a silent auction with tons of donated items.
Jeff takes the box of supplies out of my arms, and I set my bag down under the long banquet table. “Did Carla drop off the prizes?”
“She did.” He reaches beneath the table and pulls out another box, setting it beside the first. “What exactly is all of this for?”
“You’ll see.”
I rifle through the first box of supplies, pulling out a long roll of carnival tickets and an array of colorful ducks with symbols on the bottom of each one. The preschool water table is already set up nearby, filled up a little more than halfway to the top.
“Do you mind putting the ducks in the pond?”
“Sure, no problem.”
While Jeff does that, I go through the box of prizes, checking off each one on a list of donations from local businesses. Once I’m sure we have everything, I set up the signs and count out the money in the cash box.
With all of our ducks in a row, pun absolutely intended, Jeff takes a seat in the chair beside me.
“Do you want to handle the money, or the prizes?” I ask.
“The kids like you more, so I’ll leave the prizes to you.”
“I don’t think that’s necessarily true.”
He grins, showing off his perfectly straight white teeth and the laugh lines around his eyes.
Jeff is a giant of a man, a former football player with a thick but well-groomed beard and salt-and-pepper hair.
He’s tall and soft around the middle, like a younger version of Santa Claus and just as jolly.
Nobody has a single bad thing to say about him as far as I know.
“It’s true. Can’t say I blame them, though.” He winks. “You’re much prettier to look at.”
Nervous laughter bubbles out of me, and I make myself busy recounting the cash box.
It’s not long before the event kicks off and families file in.
The scent of baked goods wafts over from the bake sale where Olivia and Rosie Sullivan are set up with their mouthwatering treats.
I’ll have to take a break and grab something sweet if I have time later.
The first customer to arrive at my table is Emmy Lou, dragging her dad behind her. “Hey Em! Welcome to my duck pond!”
“Can I play, Daddy? Please!”
Wilder smiles and pulls a wad of cash out of his wallet. “What’s the damage?”
“Tickets are three dollars each or five for ten dollars,” Jeff explains. “Every duck is a winner. Prizes are listed on the board.”
“Great. We’ll take five tickets.”
I hold out my hand, and Emmy takes it. “Ok, Emmy girl. Pick your first duck.”
“I want…” She screws her face up in concentration, eyeing the makeshift pond. “This one!” To no one’s surprise, she picks out a pink one first.
“Ok. Show me the bottom so we can see what you’ve won!”
She flips it over to reveal a red dot on the bottom.
“You get a candy bracelet. Pick your next duck.”
The cycle repeats until she’s selected five pink ducks, winning two candy bracelets, a box of crayons, a bubble wand, and a five dollar gift card to Saps and Swirls.
She skips off with her winnings and the line moves forward.
Half an hour later, we’re already out of candy bracelets, and we’re sorting through the pond to find all of the ducks with red dots on the bottom.
A blue duck slips out of my hand and onto the table from several inches up, splashing Jeff with water.
I laugh at his expense, and he flicks a few droplets at me in retaliation.
I gasp as the cool water hits my face. Jeff chuckles, but I’m still stunned and unmoving as the water drips down my cheeks.
He rounds to my side of the makeshift pond, and before I realize what’s happening, his hands are on me, his thumbs swiping at the dampness on my cheekbones, his green gaze searing into me. “There. Good as new.”
“Get your hands off my woman.” Noah’s husky voice breaks through the silence, and my head snaps toward the sound. He’s glaring at Jeff, hands fisted at his sides, jaw set and spine rigid.
Jeff’s hands drop away, and he takes a step back. “Sorry, man. I didn’t know.”
“Now you do.”
I set down the duck I’d been holding and pat Jeff’s shoulder, a friendly gesture I realize much too late might be misconstrued by the brooding man in front of me. “I’ll be right back.”
As soon as I’m on the other side of the table, Noah takes my hand and drags me out of the gym.
I’m stumbling to keep up with his pace. Once we’re through the double doors, he whirls me around, caging me against a set of lockers nearby.
He rests his elbow above my head and leans in dangerously close.
“Where’s Auggie?” I ask, bewildered and breathless as I search for a way out of this predicament.
“He’s with Emmy. Don’t worry about him.”
“Ok…” My chest brushes against his with each in-drawn breath.
“We have a contract,” he whispers. “Or have you forgotten already?”
My pulse picks up at the gruffness in his voice. “I know.”
“They why the fuck are you in there flirting with another man in front of the whole goddamn town?”
A breathy laugh escapes me. “That gym barely holds one hundred people. It’s hardly the whole town.”
“Answer the question.”
His rumbly voice settles in the pit of my stomach. I’m seconds away from dissolving into a puddle. Instead, I draw in a breath and muster up an ounce or two of courage. “I was not flirting with Jeff. He’s my coworker, that’s all. Nothing more.”
“Does he know that?”
“Of course, he does. What exactly are you implying?”
“He touched you. His fucking paws were all over you.”
I shove at his chest, but he doesn’t move so much as an inch.
His large, tattooed palm skates along my waist, sending a riot of goose bumps erupting across my flesh.
His jaw ticks as the seconds pass by ever so slowly, as if time itself has a vendetta against me.
My pussy throbs with need. I rub my thighs together, desperate for friction.
Suddenly his mouth is at my ear again. “Do you want him? Do you wish it were his hands on you right now?”
I feel hazy, almost drunk on his touch, and my pulse is drumming in my ear. I can’t think straight when he’s this close. Still, I won’t let him win this one. “What if I do? Are you jealous, Weston?”
“Of course not.”
I bite down on my bottom lip, and Noah tracks the movement, his gaze scorching.
“Liar,” I whisper.
His pupils dilate, the blue all but disappearing behind a wall of shadow so intense it nearly stops my heart from beating.
Is he going to kiss me again?
His other hand lowers, cradling my cheek exactly where Jeff had touched me. “You’re mine for the next three months. While we’re together, I get all of you. Remember that. Next time I catch you with another man, I won’t hesitate to remind you... contract be damned.”
Why do I want to let him? Maybe I should lean into whatever this is and agree to his proposal.
The threat lingers in the air as he shoves away from the locker, taking all of his warmth with him. “Let’s go before someone comes looking for us.”
“Honestly, a private tryst in the hallway might help our cause.”
“Probably not a good idea for your career.”
He holds his hand out between us, and I twine our fingers together without hesitation. This is starting to feel too natural. He’s right, I need to remember what this is—and what it isn’t.
We walk back into the gym hand in hand, all but announcing our engagement to anybody who hadn’t already heard the news. He stops beside the duck pond, and I start to pull away.
“Come here.” Noah tugs on my arm, and with one hand on my waist, he brings my wrist to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss against my pulse point. He lingers for a moment longer than is appropriate in this situation, but I can’t bring myself to care.
“Uncle Noah! Miss Clio! I got a whole cupcake!” Auggie ambles toward us, grinning, with a layer of blue frosting smeared around his mouth.
“That’s what you get for leaving him with the Hayes family. Nobody’s safe from Olivia’s baked goods.”
“Great. Now I’ll have a sugar high to contend with.”
A laugh bubbles out of me. “The crash will get him sooner or later.”
“Yeah. You’re probably right.” Noah’s eyes dart from me to Jeff and back again. “See you at home, princess.” His meaning is unmistakable, like he’s staking a claim in front of Jeff and everyone else in the vicinity. Mine.
The event slowly dwindles until there’s one lonely duck left in the pond. “Rock paper scissors for it?” I say.
Jeff laughs that loud, boisterous laugh that often always carries down the hallway. “It’s all yours. Consider it my apology for flirting with you earlier. Guess I waited a little too long to shoot my shot.”
I’m not sure what to say, so I just smile my usual friendly smile and pick up the duck, unsurprised to find a red heart stamped on the bottom. The prize is a gift certificate to Branch Out. “I’ll just give these to Lexi since they have the teacher appreciation thing.”
“The what?”
“You know… the teacher appreciation discount. We get free coffee.”
“I don’t think that’s a thing,” Jeff says.
“No, it’s definitely real. I’ve been getting free coffee all year.”
Jeff’s brows shoot up, and his lips tip into a smirk. “Whatever you say.”
Once the sensory table is back in my classroom and the rest of our station is cleared, Jeff heads out. On my way to the parking lot, I grab my phone to text Quinn. Something’s been niggling at me for the last hour, and I can’t shake this strange feeling.
Me: Question.
Quinn: Answer?
Me: Have you been lying about the teacher discount?
Quinn: I’m sorry. I can’t hear you. You’re breaking up.
Me: Very funny. Explain.
Quinn: Can’t. I was sworn to secrecy.
Me: If you don’t tell me, I’ll sneak into your house and fuck up your record collection.
Quinn: Rude.
Me: I mean it. Say goodbye to Wicked.
Quinn: Fine. Don’t hurt Elphaba. She’s been through enough. It was Noah. He has a card on file to pay for your order.
Me: You’re hilarious.
Quinn: True. I’m also dead serious.
My heart rams against my ribs, so strong and sudden it steals my breath.
A whole year. Why would he do something like that? Up until about a month ago, I thought—no, I was sure he hated me. Suddenly, my world has been flipped on its axis. Up is down, right is left, and Noah Weston isn’t at all who I thought he was.