her in years—seven to be exact. Except for the time a man had grabbed her arse at the Italian restaurant where she’d done a brief stint before going to work at the studio. That probably didn’t count though.
She found herself leaning toward Peter. He smelled so good. She inhaled as surreptitiously as she could, not wanting to seem like she was sniffing him.
“Mum!” Jamie burst out of a room and ran down the hall toward them.
She jerked away from Peter, feeling like she’d been caught kissing in a closet. She glanced at him, sure she’d imagined the whole thing.
But he watched her steadily, his gaze on her like he was imaging stripping off her clothes.
She gasped, shocked, excited—feeling a million things she knew she shouldn’t feel.
“Mum! I got to clean the whiteboards.” Jamie ran into her and held up his palms, which were smudged with different colors. “I did it with my hands.”
She had to clear the lust from her throat before she could reply. “Why don’t you go wash? And then we can go get ice cream to celebrate my new job.”
Jamie faced Peter. “Are you going to wash your hands, too?”
He looked at Holly. “Am I invited to join this private celebration?”
Her cheeks flushed, trying not to picture the sort of private celebration she’d like to have. “Yes, please come,” she said, her voice a shade too breathy.
He chuckled.
Oh hell—that had sounded completely sex-crazed, hadn’t it? She put her hands to her blazing cheeks.
Winking at her, he put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “I guess I better wash my hands, too, then.”
Peter suggested getting cones and enjoying them in a nearby park. They walked with Jamie skipping between them. It was hard not to imagine that this was what a family would look like.
When they reached the park, she and Peter sat on a bench while Jamie ran around and got ice cream all over himself.
“I should probably make him sit and be proper,” she said, watching him run circles around them, “but I remember how much I hated being told to do that.”
“I don’t think it’s in his nature to sit and be proper,” Peter said dryly.
She laughed, facing him. “You’d know it as well as I do.”
“He’s a good boy, Holly. You don’t have to worry about him.”
“But I do,” she said softly. There was so much to worry about. Whether she’d be able to afford school, or even just trainers and jeans. And what if something happened to her? What would become of Jamie? Her parents weren’t interested in either one of them.
Peter touched her hand. “I lost you.”
She stilled, startled by his touch on her skin. She looked up at him.
His expression sobered. He glanced at her lips. “Holly, I have a confession to make.”
“You’re married.” She gasped, edging away. “You have a beautiful wife and five children you adore. I knew it.”
“I’ve never been married, and before you jump to more conclusions, I don’t have a girlfriend either.” He rubbed his thumb along her palm. “I wanted to make sure you understood my interest in Jamie getting into the gifted program at the Athenaeum isn’t entirely altruistic.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.” But then she wouldn’t have understood one-plus-one, not with him touching her like this. It should have been innocuous—logically she knew that—but it wasn’t at all.
“I like you, Holly.” He looked her in the eye, his gaze direct. “But I don’t go out with the parents of my students.”
She had to swallow a couple times before she could say, “You want to go out with me?”
“Yes.” He frowned. “Unless you’d rather not.”
She burst out laughing. She thought about all the bare horseback fantasies she’d had featuring him and laughed harder.
He smiled ruefully. “Laughing when a man declares his affection for you isn’t good for his ego.”
She sobered. “You have affection for me?”
“Holly”—his gaze fell to her lips—”I’ve been wanting to
She found herself leaning toward Peter. He smelled so good. She inhaled as surreptitiously as she could, not wanting to seem like she was sniffing him.
“Mum!” Jamie burst out of a room and ran down the hall toward them.
She jerked away from Peter, feeling like she’d been caught kissing in a closet. She glanced at him, sure she’d imagined the whole thing.
But he watched her steadily, his gaze on her like he was imaging stripping off her clothes.
She gasped, shocked, excited—feeling a million things she knew she shouldn’t feel.
“Mum! I got to clean the whiteboards.” Jamie ran into her and held up his palms, which were smudged with different colors. “I did it with my hands.”
She had to clear the lust from her throat before she could reply. “Why don’t you go wash? And then we can go get ice cream to celebrate my new job.”
Jamie faced Peter. “Are you going to wash your hands, too?”
He looked at Holly. “Am I invited to join this private celebration?”
Her cheeks flushed, trying not to picture the sort of private celebration she’d like to have. “Yes, please come,” she said, her voice a shade too breathy.
He chuckled.
Oh hell—that had sounded completely sex-crazed, hadn’t it? She put her hands to her blazing cheeks.
Winking at her, he put a hand on Jamie’s shoulder. “I guess I better wash my hands, too, then.”
Peter suggested getting cones and enjoying them in a nearby park. They walked with Jamie skipping between them. It was hard not to imagine that this was what a family would look like.
When they reached the park, she and Peter sat on a bench while Jamie ran around and got ice cream all over himself.
“I should probably make him sit and be proper,” she said, watching him run circles around them, “but I remember how much I hated being told to do that.”
“I don’t think it’s in his nature to sit and be proper,” Peter said dryly.
She laughed, facing him. “You’d know it as well as I do.”
“He’s a good boy, Holly. You don’t have to worry about him.”
“But I do,” she said softly. There was so much to worry about. Whether she’d be able to afford school, or even just trainers and jeans. And what if something happened to her? What would become of Jamie? Her parents weren’t interested in either one of them.
Peter touched her hand. “I lost you.”
She stilled, startled by his touch on her skin. She looked up at him.
His expression sobered. He glanced at her lips. “Holly, I have a confession to make.”
“You’re married.” She gasped, edging away. “You have a beautiful wife and five children you adore. I knew it.”
“I’ve never been married, and before you jump to more conclusions, I don’t have a girlfriend either.” He rubbed his thumb along her palm. “I wanted to make sure you understood my interest in Jamie getting into the gifted program at the Athenaeum isn’t entirely altruistic.”
“I don’t understand what you mean.” But then she wouldn’t have understood one-plus-one, not with him touching her like this. It should have been innocuous—logically she knew that—but it wasn’t at all.
“I like you, Holly.” He looked her in the eye, his gaze direct. “But I don’t go out with the parents of my students.”
She had to swallow a couple times before she could say, “You want to go out with me?”
“Yes.” He frowned. “Unless you’d rather not.”
She burst out laughing. She thought about all the bare horseback fantasies she’d had featuring him and laughed harder.
He smiled ruefully. “Laughing when a man declares his affection for you isn’t good for his ego.”
She sobered. “You have affection for me?”
“Holly”—his gaze fell to her lips—”I’ve been wanting to
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