He’d probably rather contract Rocky Mountain spotted fever or hand, foot and mouth disease than chat about vapid topics, and I’m not sharing anything about my personal life with the guys on crew—not yet. I need to prove myself here. I don’t want their pity or sympathy. I’m aiming for respect—the kind I’ll earn over time. If they find out about Mia, I’ll be viewed as the single mom, not their peer.
I study Greyson, since he’s just … there. His profile is chiseled like one of Michelangelo’s masterpieces. His blond-brown hair swoops with waves, pushed back from his forehead and cropped close around his ears and neck. His blue eyes glisten—two focused crystals that seem to catch every single detail of life. He’s wearing his navy station shirt. Short sleeves snug around his arms. Those arms.
This time when he looks over at me, it’s as if he knows I’ve been shamelessly taking him in.
I feel myself blush, but I won’t look away. That would only serve as an admission of my guilt.
“Have you been to a school assembly before?” he asks calmly, even though his face says I’m so busted.
“Not since I was in school.”
“Any questions?” His tone is straightforward. All business. Which is good, of course. It’s not like we should be anything other than co-workers. All business. That’s good. Great, actually.
“Cody ran through what we’re doing.”
Greyson nods. He glances at me one more time. His expression is like a puzzle. I wish he had a thought bubble over his head. His eyes go distant for a second, then sharpen again. His features reveal nothing. I would love to hear just one of his thoughts. They’re about me. I can tell. What does he think of me? Something. That’s for sure.
We ride the rest of the way to the school in silence. It’s one of two elementary schools in town. And it just happens to be the school where Mia attends second grade now. I keep my eyes to myself, staring out the front windshield and taking in the town of Waterford. It’s a good town to call home. Not that I’m at home here yet, but I feel the potential. This town could be our home for years to come.
Greyson parks along a spot at the curb in the parking lot and we hop out of the truck at the same time. He grabs thekit we brought including blankets, an extinguisher and other props. Then he rounds the front of the truck, waiting for me to walk forward, ahead of him. It’s a small gesture, but one rooted in his personal brand of chivalry. In the short time we’ve worked together, I’ve already noticed the inherent protectiveness that’s part of the bone-deep fabric of Greyson’s character. He can’t seem to help himself.
I pull my thoughts away from my stoic conundrum of a co-worker and focus on the reason we’re here. Greyson leads the way toward the three-story brick building. The words J. Q. Adams Elementary are embossed in the stone lintel. He opens one of the heavy wooden main doors and I walk past him, down the wide tiled floor, into the office.
“We’re here for the assembly,” Greyson tells the woman behind the counter.
“Why, hello, Greyson,” she says with an effusive smile.
Greyson’s lips thin slightly and he gives her a neutral nod. Would it kill him to sayhello? No. Not Mr. McGrumpypants. He’d rather conserve his words like a miser. I don’t know why I care. It’s obvious he gets the job done—whatever the job is.
“Hi,” I say, overcompensating for my monolith of a partner with a wider smile than usual. “I’m Hallie.”
“Oh, Hallie!” the secretary bubbles. “I’m Tori. I’ve heard so much about you. I hope the guys aren’t being too hard on you.”
“I can take whatever they’d dish out,” I tell her. “But, they’ve been great. Nice to meet you.”
“And Mia …”
I cut her off. “We’d better get to the assembly?”
My voice squeaks and my words tumble over one another. I don’t dare look in Greyson’s direction. He’d use his mind-reading laser eyes to expose my thoughts. And right now those thoughts are screaming,Please don’t tell him I have a daughter who attends this school.
“Yes, of course,” Tori says. “Greyson, you know the way to the auditorium?”
“I do,” he says, studying me for a beat and turning toward the door.
“Okay then,” Tori says.
Greyson walks into the hallway, pausing when he senses I’m not right behind him.
I turn and flash Tori a brief apologetic smile. I probably came across like a crazy person. Or someone raised in a barn. By cows. Sorry, it’s my first day actually being around people. I’m just learning how not to moo and chew cud.
Tori smiles back. I make a mental note to stop by the school tomorrow on my day off to explain myself.
“Thank you,” I say.
“Anytime, Hallie.”
Greyson’s already moving out the door. I lengthen my strides to catch up with him. He follows protocol like he’s in the military—everything having to be just so. A meticulous machine of a man. Only, I get the feeling there’s a very different side to him. Maybe that’s just wishful thinking. I used to be a dreamer—years ago. I still tend toward the sunny side of life, assuming the best of people.
