“I’m good, but not that good. However,” I hedged, “I know every vacant lot and available building in Suffolk County. Most of Middlesex and Norfolk, too.” I gently squeezed her fingers. “Let’s figure something else out. I know there’s a solution. There has to be.”
Her slim, ringless fingers curled around mine, and that connection spread over my skin and around my mind. With that singular touch, I sensed myself losing my grip on the world I knew, the world I understood, and getting lost in Miss Halsted.
“Just a drink. I’d hate to think I didn’t help you in some way.”
*
Lauren quirked abrow as I held the door to The Red Hat open. “I’ve never heard of this place before,” she said, her eyes narrowing.
“An old Scollay Square gem. Trust me.”
Happy hour crowds from City Hall and the nearby courthouse clogged the bar, and I should have accounted for typical Friday evening bar noise and rerouted this activity sooner, but I’d spent the entire trip from my office convincing myself I could behave.
I paused, scanning for an empty table or quiet corner. I wasn’t interested in competing with anyone else for her attention. Spotting a newly vacated private booth, I settled my hand on the small of her back and directed her through the room.
“What can I get you?” Being a gentleman—not a horny dickhead determined to touch her by any means necessary—I helped her out of her belted raincoat, but the thought of her showing up at my loft wearing that coat and nothing beneath turned my manners to shit.
Wait, no. The raincoat and those leopard-print heels.
“Tequila,” she said. “Tequila. On the rocks. No salt. A lot of it, in a really big glass.”
I couldn’t hide my shocked smile. Pinot grigio or fruity mixed drinks would have made more sense, but there was something to be said for a woman who ordered hard liquor like that.
I returned to the table with the tequila and a bottle of Heineken, and Lauren knocked back half the tumbler before my ass hit the seat. A droplet of liquid lingered on the corner of her mouth and I gazed at her lips while she batted her straw around the glass. I didn’t know what I wanted more: her tongue darting out and wiping it away, or seeing it roll down her chin.
I waited twenty-nine seconds. That seemed like an appropriate amount of time to stare at her mouth before acting. Reaching across the table, my fingers cupped her chin and my thumb passed over her lips. My hold lingered a few moments, and I saw my seed dripping from her pouty lips instead of tequila.
That lookedreallygood in my head.
“Mr. Walsh?”
My gaze broke away from her mouth and met the challenge in her eyes. I let my fingers graze her neck and brush her collarbone before retreating. Any further and I’d be diving into the deep end of her cleavage and we didn’t need an audience for that. “We’re not in your classroom and I’m not my father. I asked you to call me Matthew.”
“Matthew. You’re looking at me as though you’re the big bad wolf and you intend to eat me whole.”
I nodded at her red dress. Heat rushed to her cheeks and a tight, new tension ignited between us. “Would that be bad?”
Lauren raised her eyebrows but didn’t respond. She didn’t need to. I smiled around the mouth of my beer bottle and took a long drink when her attention shifted. I was neither gentlemanly nor well-behaved, and I was enjoying the hell out of it.
Since meeting her yesterday, there were only a few instances when her smartphone hadn’t been glued to her palm. As I watched her fidgeting with the device, her fingers flying over the screen and her expression morphing in reaction to each message, I wanted to know what it would take for her to put it down. My thumb on her lips didn’t do it, and neither did my comment on the topic of eating her. What more did she require to tune everything out and turn off the world?
She caught me staring, and placed the phone beside her newly refilled drink.
“I’d really like to hear about all those lots and buildings you have committed to memory now.”
Much to my relief, she sipped at the second tumbler. I didn’t know many small women who handled their liquor—let alone tequila—well. Liking her ass and mouth and her sparkle didn’t mean I liked the idea of watching her vomit all over the sidewalk.
I leaned forward to study the gold in her eyes, those little flares that drew me in and took me prisoner. “Of course. Tell me about this school you want to open.”
She lit up when she talked about creating an innovative school, and her authoritative tone was hypnotic, but there was no shortage of defeats and obstacles in her path. I never knew there was so much behind-the-scenes work associated with running schools, but Lauren’s hands were full with recruiting students, hiring teachers, finding board members, writing grants, and designing the educational philosophy, and that didn’t even include the physical space. Her quest to open this school was grueling, and I had no shortage of respect for her work.
I’d figured Saint Cosmas was the first site she visited—try fourteenth—and she claimed it was the best-looking one she’d seen, by far. If Saint Cosmas was decent, I was afraid to see the other flaming heaps of rubble. I also discovered I actuallywasthe only person for this work, save for Sam and Patrick, and I knew I wasn’t leaving Lauren without some feasible options. Regardless of whether she was my naughty schoolteacher and her ass was ruling my fantasies, she needed someone on her side, and I was going to be her someone.
“Have you been doing this long? And how old are you?”
Lauren cringed but tried to hide it behind her drink. Shannon would have beaten me for that question, reminded me never to ask women about age or weight, and then beaten me some more.
“Twenty-eight. I’ve spent the past year in the fellowship I mentioned. That’s where I’ve been learning how to do all of this.”
