Shirley Jump - The Marine's Kiss

“Knock, knock.” Debbie stuck her head in the room. “Oh, hi. I didn’t know you had company, Jenny.”

“Come on in.” Jenny stepped forward and waved the other third-grade teacher into the room. If she had to, she would have dragged Debbie in. Anything to ease the growing tension between herself and Nate.

It’s over between us. Maybe she needed to put that on a sign and wear it around her neck as a reminder.

“I’m Nate Dole,” he said, putting out his hand to the slim brunette. “I’m here to help with Jenny’s class for a few days.”

Debbie’s hazel eyes sparked to life and a wide smile took over her face when she took his hand in hers. “Well, if you ever run out of things to do, my classroom’s right next door.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Nate said. Their hand-shake—which seemed to last for hours—finally ended.

Jenny shouldn’t have felt an ounce of jealousy. Nate had every right to flirt with another woman, kiss another woman, marry another—

No, his left hand was bare. He was still single.

She would not acknowledge the relief that flooded her at that thought.

“Well,” Jenny said. “Mr. Dole and I need to re-organize the day. The children will be here in seventeen minutes and once they arrive, there won’t be any time to breathe.”

“Yeah, I better get to my own class.” But Debbie didn’t move.

Jenny opened the connecting door. “See you at lunch.”

“Oh, yeah, lunch.” Debbie shook her head, then turned to Nate. “Will you be here at lunch?”

“If Jenny wants me to be,” he said.

Both of them turned to look at her. She wondered what was on the menu today and if Debbie would look good wearing it, then bit back the evil-twin thoughts. She was not jealous. Not one bit. “He doesn’t have to stay all day.”

“Oh, too bad,” Debbie said. “I’m sure the…the, ah, students will really enjoy him being around. A big, tall guy like you.” She gave him a smile and leaned against the doorframe. “You’re a marine, I hear.”

“Debbie?” Jenny said, laying the hint heavy in her voice. “I really need to rework my lesson plan for today.”

“Yeah, sure. Me, too.” Debbie dispensed another smile Nate’s way, toothy as a Miss America contestant. “Have a nice day. If you need anything—”

“You’re right next door,” he finished for her.

Jenny distinctly heard the sound of Debbie sighing as she disappeared into her own classroom. With a firm shove, Jenny shut the door.

“Now, let’s talk about the real reason why you’re here,” she began. “It’s not altruism.”

He grinned at her, as if he’d seen the spark in her eyes when Debbie had flirted with him. “To help you.”

“I know you, Nate. You and children mix about as well as an elephant in a roomful of mice. I don’t think so.” She tapped her lip with her finger. “There’s more to you showing up here than a nudge from your mother. I’d be willing to bet on it.”

“Maybe.” His grin widened, giving nothing away. “If you want to bet, we could make it interesting.”

“This is an elementary school, remember? Nothing R-rated allowed.”

“Too bad.”

Jenny got out a stack of math fact review worksheets and began putting one on each child’s desk for early-morning work. It was easier to do that than to focus on the teasing glint in his eyes. “Believe me, you won’t be having any R-rated thoughts in a little while. Once those kids get hold of you, your brain will become mush and your body will beg for a nap.”

“I’ve been through wars. I can handle a bunch of kids.”

“A war is nothing compared to twenty-five third-graders.”

“Jenny, I’m a marine, remember? I can handle it, believe me.”

She paused and turned to him. “I’m going to take such pleasure in saying ‘I told you so’ later on today.” She thrust the pile at him. “Here, finish putting these on the desks so I can get the vocabulary words up on the board.”

He slid off the desk and hobbled to where his cane lay resting against the wall. When he’d entered the room, she’d seen him walking with it, but then she’d forgotten about it.

Her attention had been riveted on his face. Those liquid chocolate eyes. The way his hands moved when he talked. And that grin. That damned grin that even now, ten years later, could still cause an odd quiver in her heart.

“What happened to you?” She gestured to the cane.

He shook his head. “Just a little knee surgery. Nothing big.”

Once again, she got the feeling he was holding something back, as if he had a bunch of secrets tucked in his back pocket. The Nate she’d known years ago had been as open as a pool of water. But the Nate she saw today had become a darker lake, filled with depths she couldn’t see.

“Does it hurt?”

“Only when I let it.”

Asking more would mean getting close to Nate. Treading in the personal zone. She didn’t want to go there, not again. It had taken her two years to get over their breakup. She didn’t have the heart to go down that path a second time.

“As an aide, all you really have to do is help any kids who are struggling.” Jenny turned to the board and began writing because it was too hard to watch him wrangle his way through the rows of desks. She knew Nate—help was a four-letter word in his vocabulary. She cleared her throat and got to work chalking the list of words from the books the class had been reading. “Anyway, our theme this week is heroes. You being here is perfect timing.”

“Why?”

She turned, the chalk still between her fingers. “Because you’re the definition of a hero.”

Nate shook his head. “Not in my Webster’s.” He jerked away, the cane rapping against the tile.

“Nate, what do you mean by—”

“Hi, Miss Wright,” Jimmy Brooks said. “My mom dropped me off early. Again.” The wiry blond boy disappeared behind the coatroom wall, then poked his head out. “Hey, who are you?” He pointed at Nate.

“Jimmy, this is Master Sergeant Dole. He’s going to be with our class this week.”

Jimmy dropped his backpack to the floor. His eyes widened. “You’re in the army? Like a GI Joe?”

“I’m not—” Nate began.

“Mr. Dole is a marine,” Jenny explained before turning to Nate. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt you.”

“That’s, ah, exactly what I was going to say anyway.” Something flickered in his eyes—a shadow passing through—but then it was gone.

“How many people have you shot? Can I see your gun?” Jimmy circled around Nate, rat-a-tatting the questions.

“Later.” Jenny said, bending down to the boy’s level to get his attention. “Right now, you need to put your book bag away and start your morning work. Sergeant Dole will be here all week. You can talk to him later.”

“But—”

Jenny put up a finger. “I said later. And no questions about shooting people.”

“Aw, Miss Wright. You’re no fun.” Jimmy trudged off, muttering about how the class finally had someone cool and the teacher had made it all uncool.

She glanced at Nate and caught him watching her, a bemused expression on his face. Unbidden, the corners of her lips turned up into a smile. His brown gaze linked with hers, and something fluttered deep inside her. Something she’d thought she’d left in the past, like the photo album tucked under her bed.

Before Jenny could consider what that something could be, the bell rang and in gaggles like baby geese, the other children entered the room, talking and laughing, poking and prodding, complaining and shouting. Each stopped and stared when they noticed Nate, then started up a sea of whispers in the coatroom.

“As soon as you all take your seats and get your morning work done, I’ll tell you about our visitor,” Jenny called over the clamor. Focus on the class, not Nate. And maybe that quivering in her gut would stop.