I like all of it.
But I love her.
“So do I,” she whispers back, her gaze dropping to my mouth. “We’re all wrong for each other, aren’t we?”
“Yes,” I say, reaching for her again, snaking an arm around her waist to pull her against me, loving the way she opens her legs to straddle me without prompting, her knees tightening against my hips when I slide a hand over the curve of her ass as I lift her over me. “Completely and totally wrong.”
“I like that too,” she says softly, her mouth moving against mine while she lifts her arms so I can take her shirt off. “It might actually be my favorite thing about us.”
“Mine too,” I whisper back, right before I kiss her.
Epilogue
Ellenore
Givingtours to potential families is not my favorite thing to do. It takes me out of the classroom and away from the kids but it’s a necessary evil and I’ve found that when Lex does it, I just end up having to do it again because the mothers are usually too busy staring at him to pay much attention to the information he’s giving them about our school.
That’s right.
Ourschool.
Lex and I started a school.
Grades K-3rd.
I rattle off my prepared speech about our dedication to small classroom sizes and our belief in the importance of balancing free play and creative learning with an adherence to discipline and an emphasis on personal responsibility while the couple taking the tour trail behind me, eyes wide and heads nodding in agreement. “Does Landon Trask ever come here?” the wife, a pretty blonde, is the one who breaks first, asking the one question I can count on getting, every time I give a tour. “You know, to pick up his daughter or…”
“Trina,” her husband mutters her name and sighs. “I’m sorry, Mrs. McLeod—my wife has been a fan of his for years and when she heard that he was one of the financial backers for your school, she insisted on signing up for a tour.” He realizes what he just said and flushes. “That’s not to say that your school doesn’t have its own merits outside of—”
“It’s alright,” I tell him, dismissing his apology with a laugh. “Landon Trask is the reason my husband and I were able to start this school in the first place—to ignore thatorhim would be impossible.” Leading them up the winding staircase, I stop on the landing. “But to answer your question—Ican’tanswer that question,” I say, gesturing for them to continue following me down a long, brightly lit hallway toward its only open door. “What Icantell you, is that if you’re selected for attendance, your child’s privacy will be as much of a priority as her education.” Stopping in front of the open door I turn to smile at them both. “Madison will be ready to start Kindergarten, next year?” I say quietly, moving away from the doorway so they can lean through it to take a peek. “She’d be a part of Mr. McLeod’s class. Like I said before, we maintain a class size of—”
“He’sthe Kindergarten teacher?” The wife says and I lean my head through the door, trying not to laugh at her slack-jawed stare when I see Lex, looking absolutely beautiful, sitting cross-legged on a large green rug shaped like a bullfrog, readingJames and the Giant Peachto ten enraptured six-year-olds while his teachers’ aide gets ready for arts and crafts time.
“He is,” I say, my heart swelling with pride, even as it skips a beat when he raises his gaze from the book in his hand and gives me a quick wink. “He also happens to be my husband and co-founder of The McLeod Academy.” I leave out the part about him being Landon Trask’s brother because the poor woman is distracted enough as it is.
“Congratulations,” she tells me, her mouth running away from her again while her husband looks like he wishes the floor would swallow him up.
“Thank you,” I tell her, deciding I like her instantly. “Maybe you’d like to bring Madison back tomorrow for a visit, she can spend some time with the kids in Mr. McLeod’s classroom to see if she likes it.”
“I don’t know…” The husband looks a little uncomfortable. “I was going through the information packet you sent us last night and—” He shakes his head and sighs. “I’m afraid we’re just wasting your time here, Mrs. McLeod. The tuition is out of our price range.”
The best thing about running my own school isn’t the fact that it’s one of the most exclusive, sought-after schools in LA or even that I get to work with Lex every day (even though it’s a definite plus). The best part is that I can make my own rules and break them whenever I want to.
Lex taught me that.
“That’s okay,” I tell him, ushering them away from Lex’s classroom and back toward the stairs and my office. “I’m sure we can work something out.”
THE END
