Chapter 10
MICAH
“So, did you make these yourself?”
Mom Number Five won’t leave me alone after I keep turning my back on her and issuing out a subtle and silent fuck off, however, she won’t leave my kid’s table.
I’m volunteering for this bake sale that’s raising money for a new library…or soccer field, I don’t remember, and I’ve had women flock over with fake intentions of buying cupcakes and all the dedication of grabbing my attention.
But it’s already caught.
Sienna is in this red plaid number that hits right above her knees with brown boots and her hair French braided to the sides. She’s been chatting with this middle-aged asshole in a black suit, and I don’t know if he’s a co-worker or a parent, but I’ve been watching his hands.
“Helloooo.”
Motherfuck.
Steering my annoyed focus to the mom at my table, she smiles up at me like I just said something charming. Her dark blonde hair with darker shaded highlights is cut right underneath her jaw in a bob, and I could be less interested when I already have my eye candy yards away from me.
“Bought,” I deadpan, then glance down at Heath, who’s sorting through his money in the gray metal container I brought. “How many did you want?”
“Oh, umm…” When she doesn’t give me a quantity, I challenge her with a slight scowl of both impatience and confusion because she’s been standing here for well over two minutes for no damn good reason, and this isn’t a social dating event. “I’ll take two.”
“What kind?”
Not-so-subtle Mom over here fidgets with her blue sweater and steals a look at the baked goods filling our whole table. “Vanilla and chocolate.”
“You got it, buddy?”
Heath pops up from his chair, making it screech a bit off the tiled floors, and gets to work. “I got it!”
Careful to pluck the desserts out of their plastic containers, Heath grabs two napkins and hands them over to her. “That’s five dollars, please.”
“Five?” The mom looks over at me, obviously cheap as fuck.
I nod. “Five. It’s for a good cause, right?”
“Right…right.” She shoves her hand into her massive brown purse that’s hanging off her shoulder and digs around for what I’m assuming is her wallet. “Are you, um…the mechanic that works at Tony’s Tire and Repair?”
“Yeah.”
She throws on her exaggerated smile again. “I thought you looked familiar. I brought my Buick there last week.”
Ah, this makes sense.
Not only does she like to talk, but it also corroborates with Owen’s story about how she ruined his lunch and wouldn’t let him get off the phone.
“Do you know how much y’all would charge for an oil change?”
I slowly rock my head back and forth. “That’s something you’d need to call in for.”
“How about brakes?”
“Something you’d need to call in for.”
She tosses her money at my kid, and it immediately pisses me the fuck off. The dollars land on the frosting of a few, and I lift the container, the plastic crunching under my tense grip.
“Absolutely generous.” I give her a smirk when really I want to tell her to get the fuck away from me. “That’s six altogether, so you owe me another twenty.”
Her face drops. “Oh, I only wanted two.”
“But your money landed on the frosting. Honestly, you’re the first mom who has really helped with the cause.”
She blushes as I hand them over and lean over next to Heath, muttering, “Hey, buddy, go give a pink cupcake to Miss Vesper.”
He wrinkles his nose. “I can’t.”
“Why not?”
“That’s…what Uncle Graham calls a…” He lifts a flushed hand to his mouth and whispers loudly. “A kiss ass.”
I chuckle and rock my head back and forth. “It works out, kid. Have I ever steered you wrong before?”
“No.”
“Go on, then.”
Heath picks up a pink frosted cupcake while whoever this mom is fishes out money with one hand while she holds the container of cupcakes.
Yeah, I’m not helping.
“Just throw your money on the table.”
Then I amble away toward Sienna.
Am I being a bastard?
Short answer, yeah.
I’m only here for my kid and, of course, to see Sienna, but these moms are ruthless when it comes to the awkward flirting and how inappropriate it is.
I may have had several ungentlemanly thoughts myself, when I glanced over at Sienna, but I didn’t act on any of them.
Yet.
Sienna is hunched down in front of Heath with a huge smile, taking the pink cupcake from him while the guy in the suit is still talking to her like my kid’s presence shouldn’t matter.
However, Sienna is ignoring him while talking to my son, and her golden browns flick up to me as she continues to speak.
I smirk, hinting that I sent the little brat over to her on purpose just so I’d have a reason to come over.
But then she does something that shocks the literally shit out of me and my cock.
The tip of her tongue darts out to lick some of the frosting off the top, and I’m rock-hard within seconds.
She’s going to pay for that later.
“Hello, Mr. Wolfe,” she greets me as she rises to stand. “Heath was so sweet to bring me over a snack.”
“Does he get extra credit?”
“Dadddd,” Heath whines, clearly not into the whole brown-nose thing.
“No,” Sienna replies with that pretty smile still intact and peers back down at Heath. “But he does get ten bucks from me for the special delivery. Will you come get it before you leave today?”
“Sure.” He starts to fidget, obviously wanting to dip because my forced ass-kissing has had its toll.
“Mr. Morris is taking the kids outside,” Sienna states. “Do you wanna—”
“Yeah!” Heath pivots, and he’s gone.
No bye.
No thanks.
No later, Dad.
Nothing.
For the first time since coming over here, I acknowledge the dude in the suit. He appears to be in his mid-40s, with some graying on the long stubble of his beard, and I’m not impressed that he’s still standing here.
“Which kid is yours?” I ask casually, shoving my hands into the pockets of my jeans.
“Angela. She’s the one with the brownies and—”
“Oh…” My brows furrow. “You mean the kid who threw up with the blonde hair?”
His eyes widen before he pivots and begins jogging in the direction of wherever the hell his kid is.
“Take me to your classroom, Sienna,” I order, keeping my voice low in case someone is nearby.
“For?”
“Girl…” I hit her with an exasperated look. “You keep wearin’ dresses. Then you tell me on our last date and through text messages how you want to take this cock, and I’m ready to give it to you.”
She smiles and looks down the hallway. “You know damn well, I can’t.”
“Can’t…scared—” Her head snaps over to me with wide eyes.
“I’m not…” She huffs.
This cute full-body huff, and I won.
“You’re lucky I like you and give a fuck if you still have a job.”
“This is stupid.”
“Absence makes the heart grow fonder.” I turn my body so that my back is to the parents. “Then you won’t be able to contain yourself.”
She glowers at me. “If hitting you wouldn’t cause a scene, I would.”
“How about a kiss?” I take a dangerous step, knowing that this could look a little intimate, but I think we’ve got the angle down. I’m so much taller than Sienna that it’d be hard to tell. “I’m fucking fiending for you, Miss Vesper.”
Her cheeks flush as she clears her throat. “Maybe I can sneak by tonight?”
“Sneak by?” I perk a brow that she even brought up the idea herself. In fact, I’m impressed. “You’d come by the house?”
“I mean…” She shifts her weight and draws those gold irises to me. “If that’s okay?”
My lips heave into a sinister, dirty-as-fuck smirk. “I get to fuck you in my bed?” Sienna rolls her eyes. “You seriously must be crazy if you think I’d turn that down.”
“Well, I don’t want to step into your home…like that. It’s Heath’s home, too, and—”
“Please stop talking,” I profess, drawing in a deep breath because this woman is just more than anything I could ask for.
Especially when she thinks of Heath, too, and that we’re a package deal.
“The more you show that you care about my kid, only makes me…” Like you a lot more.
“Thank you. You don’t know how much that means to me. ”
Sienna smiles again and…something tightens in my chest. Like making her happy, being next to her…everything. It’s just…fuck me.
“I can bring food.”
I rock my head back and forth. “We won’t eat it.”
“Oh my God…” She brings her small fingers to her forehead and rubs at it, but I know she’s trying to hide another blush on her cheeks.
“You’ll be doing a lot of that, too.”
She laughs, the sweetest sound in the entire world.
Until it’s not.
“Mr. Wolfe, I’m surprised to see you today.”
Principal Simpson.
And do you want to know how I know it’s Principal Simpson?
Because I used to frequent Principal Simpson’s office at least two to three times a week due to my lack of calm as an elementary student.
That’s how old she is.
And I wish she had been the one to retire, versus Mrs. Whitman.
Nonchalantly, I turn to face her and can’t help but love the fact that she can’t scold or throw me in a timeout for bad behavior.
If she knew about Sienna and me, it might stroke her out, and I’d finish her off once and for all.
Morbid, I know.
“Principal Simpson,” I greet flatly. “Did you catch me overcharging my cupcakes?”
She doesn’t smile, doesn’t laugh, just stares at me like a man with a second head or like I have devil horns finally coming out of my skull.
I wasn’t her favorite student. I bet the woman threw a party when I finally went off to middle school and would no longer sprint up and down her hallways.
“Are you, Mr. Wolfe?”
“Micah,” I correct her. “I think we’ve known each other long enough that we can keep the formalities out.”
“Luca,” she corrects me further. “If I remember correctly.”
And she definitely recalls how much I hated it when she did it.
However, here we are, and I’m currently standing too close to her teacher, who is already on her watchlist.
I can pretend Sienna’s not all day, but if there is one thing Principal Simpson is not, it’s an idiot.
“That’s right,” I confirm to remain cordial. “I’m hoping to earn you the most money by the end of the day.”
“Against the PTA moms?” She couldn’t sound more unimpressed if I told her I had Jesus on my side. “Ambitious.”
“Then you do remember me.”
She lets out a weak laugh, but it doesn’t reach her eyes or her human side. If there is anything about Principal Simpson that remains the same, it’s that she takes her power at the school very seriously.
“I remember you,” she confirms evenly. “And I do recall you flirting with every female in town.”
“If you call complimenting a woman when they look nice and how well they make my coffee in the morning, Mrs. Simpson, I’m guilty as charged.”
“You’re behaving then?”
“When’s the last time you heard my name running through the gossip mills?”
Answer: years.
However, Principal Simpson waits a few moments to rummage through her memory bank to think before confirming, “It’s been a while.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Simpson.” I gesture toward Sienna. “I was asking Miss Vesper if a position opened up yet for an assistant coach.”
“For what?”
“Football. I wanted to get Heath in.”
Her eyes widen a little. “You want—well…we don’t have it anymore.”
I frown. “What?”
“Coach Clay Henson retired two years ago.”
“And you never replaced him?” She shifts her weight, and I didn’t mean for my question to be so harsh, but this is a small town, and boys get restless as hell around here. “I’d love to help get that set back up.”
“How?” she asks. “We have no one who is qualified—”
“Mrs. Simpson, it’s football. I’m not teaching the kids how to break an atom or write in cursive. Its structure. If it weren’t for football, I would’ve burnt half this town down.”
“You started a fire in Mrs. Wilson’s boutique.”
I roll my eyes because that hasn’t been proven. “She left a bunch of candles unattended. I was just there buying my mama a birthday present.”
“And…?”
Lord…
“And…I helped her put it out.”
“How did it start?”
“Are you accusing me of starting it, Mrs. Simpson?”
“I’m asking you if you had, and I’d be leaving you in the hands of my students with your wild nature and—”
“I haven’t been in your school in two decades, Mrs. Simpson. And I have a son.”
The last bit of my statement seems to settle her down a bit before she finally bows her head. “I’d love to meet with you about this, Mr. Wolfe. And, if we can get something together and agree on terms, we can talk to the PTA moms about fundraising.”
“I’d love for you to take the con on that, Mrs. Simpson. The PTA moms scare me.”
She looks heavenward, but I swear, I see her lips heave a little. “Call me this week.”
“Will do.”
Her eyes fall on Sienna then. “Don’t tell the other parents he’s overcharging cupcakes.”
Then she waltzes away with her mind on other things, other than my wanting to fuck her teacher in her classroom.
“That was slick,” Sienna quips under her breath. “You’re too good at this.”
I steal a glance at her and smile. “You changed your mind yet?”
“You want to be a coach?”
“Why not?”
“Don’t you have your hands tied already with work and Heath?”
“I do. But I think it’d be fun. And…I’d be around the school more to see my favorite teacher.”
Her brown eyes fall directly to my lips, and that’s where she fucks up. I’m not above breaking rules, and she’s making it hard for me to stay away without coercing her in some way to put her career on the line for me.
“Don’t do that,” I lightly scold. “I told you I was going to behave but not when you’re openly flirting with me.”
Her gaze suddenly comes up, wide and not-so-innocent. “I’m not flirting.”
“You want to kiss me.”
“I’d do more than that, Mr. Wolfe.”
Fuck me.
“Such as?” I dare ask when I know I shouldn’t.
When I know…I’m pushing it. She’s pushing it. We’re both pushing these stupid rules we pretend we’re not going to break, but…we’re going to break the hell out of them.
Sienna blushes, and I provoke her with my eyes to call out that we both can’t handle this.
And, honestly, I’m selfishly not going to make it easy.
I want her, and I want her like I haven’t wanted something in a really long time. That feeling seems to overtake all rationality in my head. It doesn’t seem to care that it could end badly.
It just wants her.
“Micah?”
My body instantly tenses at the soft mention of my name at my back. The way it hits my ears and the back of my memory bank for purchase on who it is.
A voice I haven’t heard in over five years calling my name.
Slowly, I turn around. Every hair on my arms is on end because…there’s just no fucking way I heard it right.
But there is.
I can never get the hell ahead anywhere.
I can’t have a relationship with a woman I’m hardcore enamored with because of her job, but I can deal with that.
It’s manageable.
However, what’s not…is my ex-fiancé, Laura, standing there in front of me now like a ghost from hell.