He nodded once and then was back to being one of the kids.
For the rest of the night, Avery focused on her job and did her best not to think about Walker’s clear brown eyes or the way he lost five years off his face when he laughed. She most definitely tried to not hear his laugh, because it was a good one. Deep. Throaty. Full. The kind of laugh that invited others to join in, even if they were determined not to. Which she was.
By the end of the night, she would have welcomed a reason to laugh. Her feet throbbed, feeling as though they’d spread and strained her shoes’ limits. She sat on the floor, using the fishnets to scoop the duckies out of the water and pass them to Claire, who was drying them off.
Her hands were dry, the skin tight from getting wet and airing out over and over again. She needed moisturizer and a hot bath, but neither was going to happen until she had this pool cleaned out. The janitorial staff was in charge of emptying the water, thank goodness. Griffen, the head janitor, wheeled up to the dunk tank with a pump of some kind and long hoses. He talked with Walker for a moment before Savannah took his hand and began to pull him away.
Avery grinned. Every kid had their limit.
She tried not to watch them as they headed her way, tried to act like she had no idea they were there and that she’d been watching them most of the night. Thankfully, Walker was oblivious to the darting looks in his direction.
“’Night, Mrs. Croft,” called Savannah.
She glanced up at them, feigning surprise at theirsuddenappearance. “Oh, are you two headed out?” She immediately hated looking up at Walker. From this vantage point, his shoulders were so broad and his arms so muscular.
Walker sighed. “I think we’ve both had it. We’ll probably sleep until noon.”
Savannah wrinkled her nose and stuck out her tongue, indicating that she didn’t like that idea at all. Avery loved that she hadn’t yet learned how to school her reactions, how to be careful about what she felt. Yet another plus in the “good things about Walker” column.
“We appreciate your help tonight. From the rumors circulating, we’ve reached our goal. You’re going to love the field trip Savannah. Only the fifth and sixth graders get to go, and kids look forward to this for years.”
Walker shoved his hands in his pockets. “We didn’t sign up.”
Avery’s hand dropped into the water, splashing her shirt. “Why not?” She reached for a towel and tried to dry off—again.
“That was Savannah’s mom’s weekend.”
Throwing the towel over her face and disappearing was an option, right? From the way Walker’s and Savannah’s lips turned down, Mom was a sore subject. “That will be way fun.” She was lame. Lame. Lame. Lame.
Savannah’s lower lip pouted out. “Are you going on the field trip?” she asked Avery.
“I am. My son is going too.”
“You have a son?” Walker blurted.
“I do.”
“You didn’t tell me that.” He looked down at her, but it was more like he was looking down on her for not having disclosed the information on their date.
“You didn’t tell me you had a daughter.”
Savannah giggled.
Walker snapped his mouth shut. His head whipped to Savannah, and a cloud of fear passed over his face. Ah, so he hadn’t told her about the date. Or, if he had, he hadn’t mentioned it was with the school secretary.Wonderful. She’d like to keep it a secret as much as anyone. The people she’d already told would be discreet. The whole experience could die a silent, secret death.
“Da-ad?” Savannah hopped three times. “Pa-lease. Can we go on the field trip?”
“You get a full year’s worth of parental volunteer hours if you go.” Claire jumped in, making it apparent that she’d been eavesdropping all along.
Avery threw her a get-your-own-conversation look.
“Now that’s tempting,” Walker admitted.
Avery scrambled. She could not spend a whole weekend with Walker. That would be … uncomfortable at best and a disaster at the worst. “I’ll have to check the roster on Monday. We might not have scheduled enough hotel rooms for another chaperone. But I’m certain we can get Savannah on the list.”
Savannah beamed up at her. Walker frowned. “Check into it, would you?”
And I’m back to being the hired help.“Certainly, Mr. Wilaby,” she clipped.
