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“Ron and Harry?” Scott asked. “Like from the Harry Potter books?”
Ginger nodded and turned to Shelby. “They don’t like to be teased about their names.”
Shelby stared at her with her dark, depthless eyes. “Why do you think I would tease them?”
Scott stepped up beside his daughter. “Shelby doesn’t make fun of other children.”
Great. Alienate the student and her father. “I’m glad to hear that. I’m sure you’ll get along nicely then.” Ginger turned her smile on Scott. “I didn’t mean to imply she would be unfriendly.”
Just because you are.
His jaw clenched, proving her message got through.
“I’ll show you your locker so you can put your coat away.” Ginger took them into the hall and indicated the girl’s locker. Shelby shrugged out of her backpack, and Scott hung her coat on a hook.
He winked at Shelby. “Now I can visualize your coat in its environment.”
Shelby grinned, displaying a missing tooth on the bottom row. The girl may not understand all the undercurrents, but she recognized her father had scored a hit.
Ginger had dealt with all kinds of parents through her five years teaching second grade, but she’d never had a relationship with a father interfere with her emotions before. Not that relationship would be the right word for what she’d shared with the insufferable man currently taunting her. It had been one night of passion. It might have been easier if they had dated and broken up. At least then she’d know his mind.
“May I speak to you privately, Mr. Matthews?”
“Why, of course, Ms. Winchester.”
Ginger barely stopped herself from glaring, knowing Shelby watched them intently. “Shelby, go ahead and put your things in your desk.”
Her student looked to her father first for his nod of approval, then dragged her feet into the classroom.
Ginger squared off with him as soon as the girl left their earshot. “One question and I only need a yes or no. Are you married?”
“No.” His surprised expression was answer enough, but the spoken denial made her sag with relief.
“Okay, then. Thank you.” She took a breath; it felt like the first she’d taken since recognizing him in the principal’s office. “Scott, no matter what went on between us, we need to be able to speak civilly to one another for your daughter’s sake.”
“Why didn’t you tell me you taught second grade?”
She retreated a step, taken aback by his question. Up to this point, he’d behaved as though he disliked her. Miffed, she shot back, “Why didn’t you tell me you had a daughter?”
He glanced away. “Two.”
It took her a moment. “You have two daughters?”
“The other is in preschool at the Wee Care. My boss’s mother owns it, but you probably know that. I took her this morning. The three of us moved up after Christmas. That’s why I’ve been too busy to call.”
Ginger absorbed the news. Two daughters, no wife. “It’s a good preschool. I noticed Shelby will be taking the bus there after school.”
“Unfortunately.” He hunched his shoulders. “I don’t like leaving them for so long, but at least I can take them both to their schools in the mornings. I’ve already talked to Dylan about flexing my hours so I can start work later.”
Ginger wanted to give him a hug of reassurance, wondering if he’d just gotten custody. The first adjustments after a divorce were hard enough without kids. Would the girls be shuttled to Georgia to visit their mother for holidays and summer vacations? Poor things. Maybe she could cut Shelby some slack.
“I’m serious about us getting along better,” she said. “Especially in front of Shelby.”
“I agree.” He shoved his hands in the front pockets of his pants and rocked back on his heels. “I have to get to work right now, but maybe we should get together later to discuss this.”
His offer sounded like a date, although get together gave his suggestion a casual air. Their relationship so far had been intense and intimate, if short-lived. Tempted, she steeled her resolve. She could not get involved with this man, especially now his daughter was in her class. The principal had delivered a lengthy oration—the only kind of talk he knew how to give—just that morning regarding the school district’s cracking down on any hint of impropriety. She couldn’t afford for the adoption agency to hear of a scandal, either. “What do we need to discuss?”
Scott blinked, some of the starch knocked out of him. “Our …”
She raised her eyebrows. “Night of passion?”
“For starters.”
“Starters? That’s all we have between us. Except now there’s Shelby.”
“So that’s it?”
The bell rang and clattering children charged down the hall. “I have to go now,” Ginger said. “If you want to discuss Shelby’s progress in my class, you know where to find me.” She snapped her fingers. “Wait, I know. You could always call me.”
Turning on her heel, she marched into her classroom.
THE NEXT DAY, SCOTT WAITED in the school lobby to have a surprise lunch with Shelby. He’d spent the morning at the Wee Care Preschool and Day Care with Serena, making sure she eased into her new surroundings. Dylan was a heck of a guy to give him an extra day off. Scott owed the man big-time, especially as his wife, Tara, had helped ease Rena into the routine. Rena had taken pride in showing her school to him, not having attended preschool or day care back home.
He sighed, then pasted on a smile as the children from Shelby’s classroom walked down the hall toward him. He spied his daughter looking at the floor as she walked, and his chest ached. Poor kid. Being older, the adjustment would be harder for her than for Serena. New school, new friends, new life.
Ginger followed the children out of the room, locking the door behind her. Scott knew when she spotted him by the way her foot stuttered, her shoulders straightened and her lips firmed. She couldn’t fool him. He knew how soft those lips could be, especially pressed against his body.
Swallowing, he set down the carry-out food tray just as Shelby launched herself into his arms.
“Dad! What are you doing here?” Her smile lit his day.
Her classmates continued on, throwing questioning glances their way. “I’m having lunch with you.” He looked up at Ginger. “I checked in at the office and they said to wait here.”
Her eyes pierced him before her expression turned bland. “That’s fine, and what a nice treat for you, Shelby.”
Shelby nodded and clung to his hand.
“Why don’t you show your father the way to the cafeteria.” Ginger walked toward the stairs.
Scott grunted, not caring to be dismissed in such an offhand manner. As though he were just another parent. “Well, peanut, how’s about you and I have some food?”
He picked up the cardboard drink tray and bags, one child’s chicken pieces meal and his own more substantial fish fillet and fries. They couldn’t do takeout too often, for health and financial reasons, but he wanted today to be special.
“What about the lunch you packed me?” she asked.
“Save it for tomorrow.”
“Wow.” Shelby hugged his waist. “We go down here, and I’ll show you my table.” Her brow wrinkled. “We’ll have to find a chair for you.”
“You have an assigned table?” He hadn’t realized that nor had the office mentioned it when he’d called to find out the procedure.
“It’s okay. I’ll make Harry or Ron move.”
“Shelby.” He frowned at her as they descended. “Y’all can’t kick either of those boys out of their seats.”
She gave a shrug he’d seen his wife use. Samantha had always meant “we’ll see” by it, and she usually got her way. He hadn’t realized Shelby had picked up that particular gesture, although he’d noted other gestures of Sam’s both girls had assumed. He shook his head, knowing Shelby didn’t mean to be heartless.
“It’ll be okay,” he said. “If there aren’t enough seats, you can sit on my lap.”
“Daaad.” She rolled her eyes.
That gesture he knew all too well meant You’re such a moron.
As it turned out, a cafeteria monitor found him a chair while the children made envious noises to Shelby over her meal. He thanked the woman, talking for a moment to discover she volunteered at the school twice a week for lunchtime. Scott couldn’t do that as the school lunch period stretched over two hours, but it put the idea of volunteering in his head. The principal had snagged him the day before to serve on a committee, but he wanted to spend time with Shelby. Maybe something in the classroom. He could flex the time he took lunch to match Shelby’s schedule.
Of course, volunteering in the classroom meant seeing Ginger. He doubted Ms. Winchester would welcome him with open arms.
Which led his thoughts to when she had. He cleared his throat. Not the appropriate time or place for those images.
Shelby threw out the first names of the other children by way of introduction.
“What’s a programmer do?” the boy to his left asked. Harry, Scott thought, the blond with extra large front teeth. Poor kid. Harry’s twin still sported baby teeth, but Scott figured Ron would have the same appearance with his adult incisors. Wouldn’t be a problem once the boys grew into them. He hoped the other kids didn’t tease them in the meantime.
Scott outlined his job to the boys, who hung on his explanation as though he’d invented the internet. Shelby sighed dramatically, but then to her, he was just her father, not Mr. Wizard. Having a child interested in his work made a nice change.
“Ron,” she said, “you’ve got jelly on your shirt.”
“Oh.” The boy glanced down. “Where?”
Shelby sniggered. “Made you look.”
Scott shot her an admonishing glance, although the other children laughed, including Ron and Harry. The next time he came, he’d bring lunches for everyone. Would that be a problem with their parents? Did any of the kids have food allergies? He sighed. This parenting thing was harder than he’d imagined. Sharing lunch at school had been Sam’s job. Now every duty was his by default.
Still, he thought as Shelby hugged him goodbye, there were rewards.
He watched her run out to the playground, her earlier doldrums forgotten, although she hadn’t been pleased when he declined going outside for recess with her and her friends. Kickball or jump rope in under-forty-degree temperatures held no appeal for him. One last wave, then it was past time to get to work.
As Scott turned to the office to sign out, he noticed Ginger going into her classroom again. Awfully short lunch break. This might be the time to ask about volunteering. Perhaps she had a list of needs or a sign-up sheet.
He knocked twice, then opened her door. She raised her head, looking right at home behind the teacher’s desk. A born educator.
Spotting him, Ginger masked her irritation. She should have relocked her door until it was time for the kids to come back in. Her lunch “hour” was actually forty-five minutes. Spending time with a parent shouldn’t intrude, but a phone call or visit often interrupted. “Did you have a good lunch with Shelby?”
“It was very nice. Sorry.” He gestured toward her desk where her lunch wrappings remained. “I didn’t realize y’all were still eating.”
She snapped the lid on her sandwich carrier and slipped it into her thermal bag. “I’m almost done. Do you have a question?”
“I want to volunteer. In the classroom.”
Forcing her face to remain impassive, she nodded. Her fist clenched below the desk. Hadn’t meeting him again yesterday been enough punishment for whatever crimes fate held against her?
“Do you have anything coming up I could do?” he asked. “Maybe before or after lunch?”
And give her indigestion? “Not that I can think of, but I’ll keep you in mind.”
His eyes narrowed. “Nothing? Are you sure?”
She gave him her fake smile. “Nothing that’s of short duration.
I’ll give you the numbers of the room parents planning the Valentine’s party next month.” Not that you’re good about calling when you’ve got someone’s number. She flipped open the cabinet drawer behind her and pulled out the party folder.
“Valentine’s Day? I can probably do that.” His shoulders hunched.
Would the romantic holiday be hard for him this year, being suddenly single after … however long he’d been married? So much she didn’t know about him, despite their night together.
“But I was hoping for something before then,” he said, “to help Shelby get settled here.”
“Perhaps finding her own way, without your presence, would be easier for her.” As it would be for me.
“What about Shelby’s birthday? What’s normally done? Should I try to come in that day for some kind of celebration?”
He had her there. “We usually have snacks at the end of the day, just before leaving. You can send something in the morning if you have to work.”
“Aren’t parents allowed to come in for the party?”
“Of course.” She gave a mental sigh and determined to do something kind for someone to realign her karma. “You can bring it in around two-thirty. That gives us time to sing, serve and clean up before the bell rings.”
She pulled open her desk drawer and dug out the file she needed. Extending a sheet of paper to him, she added, “Here’s the list of food allergies this year. Ron and Harry West’s mother will send in a special snack for them since they’re sensitive to so many foods. I’ll add Shelby’s birthday to the list Ms. West already has.”
He stepped closer and took the paper from her. His fingers brushed hers, causing her nerve endings to sizzle. Had he touched her on purpose?
Scott cleared his throat. “Food allergies. I’m glad I asked. I was thinking about bringing lunch for everyone at Shelby’s table sometime.”
“You’ll need to keep that with you, then. It would be best to send home a note with the boys and ask Ms. West to call you. She’s also in charge of the Valentine’s party.”
“Thanks.”
He continued to stare, but she refused to fidget. He was too close, too tempting.
“Was there something else?”
Scott’s lips firmed. “I guess not.”
He left, taking the tension with him. Ginger retrieved Shelby’s thin file, checking for her birthday. She closed her eyes. January twenty-first. Fifteen days. Not nearly enough time to prepare to see Scott again.
Curiosity conquered her better intentions, and she scanned the student information form Scott had filled out when he registered his daughter. Sole custody. No info filled in on the mother, but nothing flagged her as a potential threat, either. At least not as far as kidnapping Shelby went. The threat to Ginger was harder to gauge. Memories could be more difficult to fight than a flesh-and-blood, fallible woman.
After school, Ginger went home, glad she didn’t have papers to grade for once. She had lessons to prepare, of course, and reading to do—that was a given. Maybe after, she could stretch out in front of the fireplace with a novel for some escapism. What a luxury. Papers had to be reviewed for the upcoming evaluation reports, but those could wait another night.
