Blinking, I break the connection instantly despite my body’s protests and I look at a pouting Caleb, and I swear I pale.
He’s about to use the puppy dog look on me, isn’t he?
He answers my silent question as his lip pouts and his eyes widen.
Oh come on…
I wince at the look and try to look anywhere but at him, and I hear Ice chuckle behind me.
Okay, so the need to give him the middle finger is extremely high and I clear my throat as I lock eyes with Caleb again, and dammit, I melt as his eyes tear a little.
Seriously?
A throat clears beside me before a deep, dark chuckle echoes, making my chest squeeze, and the man I was just lusting over, something I haven’t done in a very long time, or ever if I’m being honest with myself, asks, “How exactly are you a teacher if you fall for that look?”
Amusement laces his tone, and I scrunch my nose up as I look at the man who is now standing with my daughter in his arms, her head on his shoulder and oh holy cow there goes my ovaries.
My mouth dries as his lips tilt into a smirk seeing my reaction to him with my daughter.
“I uh, well, to be honest, I’m not sure,” I admit with a stutter, “but the kids are amazing so I never really have to say no.” I clear my throat, “Until now but I’m struggling.”
He grins wide, and his whole face lights up, and I’m blinded by him. He’s all I can see, even hearing the distant opening and closing of a door, I can’t seem to make myself look away.
He’s, damn, he’s like a tattooed god.
I never had this reaction to Adam…
“Please, Ms. Robins,” Caleb says, breaking the spell I’m under, and I blink and look towards the boy, who again is pouting and I…
Dammit.
I huff, “Okay,” not able to say no, and he grins wide as he cheers, and Dirty chuckles, “He has you wrapped around his little finger…” and I hum because yeah, out of all my students, I have this need to always protect Caleb and keep him safe, I just don’t know why.
“Mr. Dirty, can I ride your bike?” Lyra asks, and I look at her with wide eyes, shocked by her soft demand, to see her looking at the man who is, yeah, he’s everything.
Wearing jeans, a tank and a vest thingy, his hair in a man bun…
The man is sex on legs, that is all I can say and is it bad that I’m picturing him with his overalls tied at his waist and no top on?
Yep, bad, very bad.
“If your mama says yes, then you can, and Caleb can go in her shi…. I mean her car,” he answers my daughter and my mouth drops open a little.
“Did you almost call my car a shit box?” I ask with a raised brow and Dirty side eyes me, and he admits, “It is a shit box,” and I huff as I eye my car before scrunching my nose up because, yeah, he’s right, it is a shit box, one I’m struggling to let go of but that is only because I brought Lyra home in it.
I can’t part with it because not only is it part of my independence after everything, it’s because it holds memories of my daughter,
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Caleb, you can sit in the front,” ignoring the man’s words because I know they are true, and Caleb cheers while I look at Dirty and I frown at the feelings inside me.
I don’t know why, but I trust him with her, and I don’t even know him.
How fricking weird is that?
“I’ll drive slowly,” he comforts, thinking that is the reason why I paused, and I slowly nod before opening my driver's door as Caleb climbs into the passenger side. I look his way again, seeing him placing Lyra on the front of his Harley, grinning at her before she waves at me, and I wave back, causing him to look my way again.
Our eyes connect again, and he tilts his head, and I swallow hard and introduce, “I’m Holly, by the way,” not knowing what to say.
My head is, well, it’s scrambled.
