Mrs. Archer waves me toward the classroom. “Please feel free to join them. I have a few calls to make.” Then she's gone.
I can't hold back the chuckle when I walk in. If there was ever a definition of organized chaos, this is it.
Heather sits on top of the large desk at the front, arms braced on the edge and legs swinging back and forth as she chats with the teacher. The wide tables have been rearranged in a circle around the room, and in the center sits Violet on a pile of mats with Cookie in her lap. Her classmates surround her, all vying for a chance to pet the spoiled corgi, who is also wearing a tiara.
I snort. How fitting. If there's ever been a dog who believes she's royalty, it's Cookie.
At the sound, Heather and Ms. Campbell turn their heads.
“Welcome to the party, Logan,” Heather teases, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
“Glad I made it,” I joke back as I stroll toward her. “The only thing not here is cake.”
“Aww… Darn it!” She snaps her fingers. “We ate it all. Sorry, buddy. You snooze, you lose.”
“Guess you'll have to make it up to me,” I suggest, deliberately lowering my voice.
Her cheeks flush pink at my tone, and satisfaction surges through me. I love that I can make this sassy, quick-witted woman momentarily speechless.
“Hi Uncle Logan!” Violet calls out, and I turn to wave. Even Cookie deigns to glance my way, giving me what I'd swear is a huge puppy grin. I consider that a win. Most days, the corgi completely ignores me, focusing entirely on her new best friend. And honestly, I'm okay with that.
“Hey there, sweetpea. Are you having fun?”
She bobs her head, practically glowing with happiness. It might be the happiest I've seen her.
“They won't be much longer, Mr. Maddox,” Ms. Campbell assures me, her voice a little shaky. For some reason, I seem to make the young teacher nervous and I have no idea why.
“No rush.” Leaning my hip against the desk next to Heather, I add, “I was worried I'd be running late.”
“Oh no. Even if you were, we'd keep Violet until you got here.”
“I appreciate that.” I turn to Heather. “Is this another one of your outreach initiatives?”
Her face brightens with a small grin. “I've been known to make school visits from time to time, but this was a special request from a certain student.” Heather nods toward the center of the room. “Cookie's been holding court for close to an hour now.”
“She looks like she's enjoying herself.”
“Oh, absolutely.” Heather glances toward the teacher. “Ms. Campbell and I were just talking about the artisan market this weekend. Her family owns the dance studio in town and they're planning some demonstrations. Violet might enjoy it.”
“Good idea.” I lean in closer. “My marketing team wants me in a pie-eating contest.”
Something warm curls in my chest as Heather laughs. “That's perfect for you. I think you could take down any competition.”
“It's a hell of a lot better than their original suggestion.” I pat my stomach. “Just gotta squeeze in a good run beforehand to prepare.”
“Oh, please.” Heather pokes my abs, and I feign offense. “Like you have an ounce of fat on that body.”
So she's been noticing my body... Interesting.
“Hey, maintaining these abs takes work. And considering I've had dessert almost every night since moving here…” I give her a meaningful look. “I need all the help I can get.”
Heather grins, her legs swinging faster. “Yeah, well, if you're fishing for a compliment, big guy, you're barking up the wrong tree.”
“Who said anything about needing compliments?” I place a hand over my heart in mock offense. “I'm simply stating the truth. I ate almost that entire tray of brownies you made last night. You realize how many calories that was? And that came after two massive servings of your mac and cheese.”
“Told you,” she teases. “Grandma's recipes never miss.”
Our eyes lock and hold for several seconds until Ms. Campbell coughs delicately. “Um, excuse me. I think I'll have the children wrap things up now,” she says with a sly smile before turning to her class.
