Chapter 27 Janie
TWENTY-SEVEN
Janie
“Merry Christmas!” Rourke’s voice rings out across the auditorium as he strides down the aisle toward the stage.
All the kids turn toward him, their faces lighting up like the tree on stage.
In just a month, he’s become the heart of this pageant, more beloved than even me. And I’m the teacher.
But I don’t mind, because I know what’s behind this change, the real reason he’s greeting everyone like he’s actually excited about the pageant.
“Have you been behaving for Ms. Bennett?” he asks, his eyes sliding to mine.
“We’ve been SO good!” Lily says exuberantly, skipping to catch up to him. “Well, except for when Preston put glue in Emmalynn’s hair today.”
“It wasn’t my fault!” Preston protests. “I thought it would come right off!”
Rourke tilts his head with the patience of a saint. “Maybe ask Ms. Bennett before you glue anything next time.” He ruffles Preston’s hair before he steps in front of the rest of the group. “Have the rest of you been good for Ms. Bennett?”
They all nod convincingly.
“We’ve been perfect angels,” says Emmalynn, who’s ironically wearing her angel wings for the show.
“Good. Because Ms. Bennett wants us to put on the best Christmas show this year. And we can’t do that unless you listen to her.”
“Does that mean you listen to her?” Lily asks.
His gaze lands directly on me, a smile curving his lips. “Only when she asks nicely.”
My stomach flips, and I look back at my notes for the rehearsal, trying to hide the heat blooming on my cheeks.
“All right, everyone,” I say, focusing on the script. “Let’s run through the scene where the carolers arrive to sing ‘Silent Night.’”
“Ms. Bennett,” Jack interrupts, raising his hand. “Are you and Mr. Rourke married?”
My head snaps up. “What? Of course not. Why would you think that?”
“Because you keep making heart eyes at each other,” he says, glancing between us.
“We do not make heart eyes.”
“Yes, you do,” Lily chimes in. “Yesterday you were doing the same thing my mommy and daddy do right before they get all mushy.”
“Ewww,” Jack cringes.
“Kissing is gross,” Preston adds.
Rourke smirks. “Trust me, you won’t hate kissing when you grow up.”
The boys start making gagging sounds while the girls erupt into giggles.
I give Rourke a look that says not helpful.
“He wanted to talk to me…alone,” I say, trying to come up with a reasonable explanation for why we’re always together. “He had a question.”
“So many questions,” Rourke says with a smirk.
“But you weren’t even on stage,” Emmalynn says with a puzzled frown. “You were backstage where you thought no one could see.”
My whole face is on fire now. I know exactly what moment she’s talking about. Rourke pulled me behind a stage curtain to give me a quick kiss. I had no idea we had a bunch of little spies watching us.
“Um, well…” I stammer. “Mr. Rourke needs lots of help.”
I glance at Rourke, hoping for some backup, but he’s openly grinning. “I really do need a lot of help. And private lessons. Right, Ms. Bennett?”
This is it. This is how I lose my teaching license. Note to self: Never kiss anyone within a fifty-foot radius of children. Ever.
Emmalynn turns to Rourke, her face serious. “Mr. Rourke, do you love Ms. Bennett?”
“What do you think?” Rourke asks smoothly, dodging her question.
“My mommy says when grown-ups love each other, they get all smiley and weird,” Jack answers.
“Are we acting weird?” Rourke asks, clearly enjoying this interrogation.
“Yes,” Preston says flatly. “You laugh at everything she says, even when it’s not funny.”
“And Ms. Bennett keeps fixing her hair when you’re around,” Lily adds.
Do I?
“And you brought her flowers yesterday,” Preston notes.
“They were poinsettias for the set,” I protest.
“Not those flowers.” Preston motions toward the stage flowers. “The red roses he tried to hide from us.”
This conversation is spiraling completely out of control, but I can’t deny that part of me is loving the way Rourke is staring at me—grinning like he’s only too happy to get caught making heart eyes at me.
“Mr. Rourke, I have a question,” Lily says, stepping forward.
“Lily—” I start, but she’s on a roll now.
“Do you want to marry her and have lots of babies with her?” It’s the kind of honesty only a six-year-old can get away with.
Rourke’s mouth quirks. “Someday I would definitely like to have lots of babies with Ms. Bennett.”
My eyes nearly pop out of my head as I glare at Rourke now. “Okay, okay,” I nervously laugh, holding up my hands in a plea to surrender. “Can we please focus on the pageant? We have less than a week before the performance.”
“But, Ms. Bennett—” Lily starts.
“No more questions,” I say firmly, giving Rourke one last look to remind him to behave. “Now, carolers, take your places.”
I point to the large pergola in the center of the stage, decorated for Christmas. As the kids move into place, Lily points up at the top of the pergola.
“Ms. Bennett!” she calls out. “Somebody added mistletoe!”
The excitement in her voice pulls my attention from the script. “No, that’s evergreen boughs…” Then I freeze. Because sure enough, there’s a sprig of mistletoe hanging from the center…and I definitely didn’t put it there. And standing under it is one Rourke Riley.
“How did that get there?” he asks innocently, though I have my suspicions. There’s only one person who could reach up that high without a ladder. One person who very much would like to kiss me.
“Interesting.” I slowly walk toward him. “I didn’t ask for any mistletoe on this set.”
“Oh, you know what that means!” Emmalynn squeals, and suddenly all the kids gather around us like it’s the most fascinating thing they’ve ever witnessed.
“It means if two people stand under it, they have to kiss!” she finishes.
“EWWWWWW,” a few boys groan.
Jack frowns. “Which is why I’m not going near it!”
I glance at Rourke, who’s suddenly looking everywhere except at me. A mischievous smile spreads across his face as he waits under the pergola.
“Mr. Rourke,” I ask, walking toward him. “Did you hang mistletoe from the pergola?”
He stares at his feet. “Maybe Santa’s elves did it.”
The children burst into giggles.
“I think you did it!” Emmalynn declares, pointing at him. “Look at his face! He’s guilty!”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says, fighting a grin. “I was just concerned about authenticity. I mean, you can’t have Christmas without mistletoe.”
“Uh-huh,” I say dryly, stopping in front of him. “I can see how concerned you are about authenticity.”
“Ms. Bennett!” Lily says. “You have to stand under it!”
Before I know what’s happening, twenty-two hands are pushing me toward the mistletoe, until I’m directly under it.
When I’m finally inches from Rourke, I see the way his eyes are dancing in amusement.
“Kiss her, Mr. Rourke,” Lily says. “Before she runs away!”
Rourke steps closer. “Ms. Bennett, could you help me check this beam?” he says seriously. “I want to make sure it’s structurally sound.”
“That is the worst excuse I’ve ever heard,” I tell him, but I can’t help the smile pulling at my lips.
“Like the kids said, it’s a rule.” He shrugs helplessly. “You can’t break the rules, Ms. Bennett. Not when you’re the teacher.”
“This is a very elaborate plan, Riley,” I murmur. “Hiding the mistletoe until this moment.”
“I don’t know what you mean,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist. “I’m only following Christmas tradition. You still want to make me a Christmas convert, don’t you?”
“So this is what it’s going to take to fully convert you…a kiss under the mistletoe?”
“Not one kiss under the mistletoe, Ms. Bennett. An obscene number of kisses under the mistletoe.”
“Is that so?” I say, laughing. “How many is obscene?”
“Let’s find out,” he says, leaning closer. “I mean, if you’re trying to reform me into someone who loves Christmas…this might help tip the scales. Besides…” He pauses, his lips almost brushing mine now. “Rules are rules.”
“Oh, then I’d better not break a single one.” I close the distance between us, my lips brushing his in a kiss that’s soft and sweet and definitely PG-rated.
When he pulls away, the taste of him still on my lips, I realize it: One kiss, and now I understand what he means by “an obscene number of kisses”—because that’s exactly what I want.
The girls giggle while a few boys moan in disgust.
“Merry Christmas, Ms. Bennett,” Rourke whispers against my ear.
And I blush, feeling like my chest is going to burst. “Merry Christmas,” I whisper.
Lily sighs dramatically. “That was SO romantic!”
I laugh. “Well, we’re not getting much practice done, that’s for sure.”
“Forget practice,” Rourke says. “We’re creating our own Christmas magic right here.”
The sound of a door opening shifts everyone’s attention away from the center of the stage. “Janie?” A voice cuts through our little Christmas moment, sucking all the joy from the room.
I freeze, the warmth draining from me as my ex-husband stands at the bottom of the stage.
“Nick.” I step away from Rourke instinctively. “What are you doing here?”
“Do you have a minute?” His mouth clamps into a tight line.
Seriously? After all the minutes, the hours, the years I gave him that he threw away?
“I’m in the middle of rehearsal,” I say, gesturing to the kids who are now watching this moment unfold.
“I can see that,” Nick says, his tone clipped. “Along with whatever this is.” He nods toward the mistletoe above us.
Heat floods my cheeks. “Maybe we should discuss this somewhere else—”
“No, I think here is fine.” Nick crosses his arms. “Since apparently you’re comfortable having your personal life on display in front of your students.”
Rourke steps in front of me. “I think you should probably leave.”
“And I think this doesn’t concern you,” Nick replies coldly.
“Students,” I say quickly, trying to keep my usual tone. “Why don’t you get your backpacks and meet your parents in the lobby? We’ll finish practice tomorrow.”
A few of the kids look between us before slowly filing out. Once they’re gone, I turn around to face Nick.
“I heard someone’s been staying at the house,” he says. “With Aria.”
I stare at him and it finally clicks—he’s the one who’s been sneaking around the neighborhood. It wasn’t a bunch of teenagers trampling through the flower beds. He was checking up on me. “He’s not there because…”
“I have a right to know who’s hanging around my daughter, Janie.”
“You knew we were dating,” I fire back.
Nick’s eyes narrow slightly. “But not that he was living at your house.”
“His apartment is under repair,” I say. “It’s only temporary.”
“I don’t care why he’s there. If it involves Aria, I should know.” He pauses. “I think we need to discuss some changes to our custody arrangement.”
Rourke steps closer to him. “I think you need to respect that this is Janie’s workplace. If you want to have a conversation, maybe make an appointment.”
“I don’t need to make appointments to talk to my ex-wife about my daughter,” he snaps.
I move to stand beside Rourke. “You do when you show up unannounced and create a scene in front of my students.”
Nick’s jaw tics. “I’m not creating a scene. I’m trying to have a conversation about what’s best for Aria.”
“Then let’s have it,” I say. “But not here.”