Donna Clayton - The Sheriff's 6-year-old Secret

Now, she saw, his face was just as gorgeous, his hair just as silky, but his mahogany gaze was soft with compassion.

“Hold on a second.”

His tone had gone just as gentle as his expression and he lifted his hand, palm outward, to her.

“I’m not here on business.”

Then his brow puckered and he became obviously flustered.

“Well…I am here on business but…what I mean is…”

Mild frustration made his expression rather comical, and if Gwen hadn’t been so upset by the sight of him, intimidated by his presence and that uniform, she’d have smiled. But the present situation with her brother was too overwhelming for her to see any humor in having a police officer show up at her place of employment.

She was so scared for her brother that she found herself unable to speak.

“I’m not here on police business,” he rushed to add.

Gwen felt her lips form a silent “Oh,” and she nodded. She let out her breath, not realizing before this moment that she’d been holding it.

“So if you’re not here about Brian, Officer—” her voice was still raspy “—I’m afraid I’m confused. What can I do for you?” Glancing at her wristwatch, she said, “I don’t have much time to give you right now. You see, I’m expecting a parent—”

“I’m the expectant parent.”

He shook his head when he realized what he’d said. Tipping up his chin, he tried again, “I’m the expecting parent.” The sigh he heaved was filled to the brim with aggravation. “I’m the parent you’re expecting.”

The relief that flooded through her was dizzying. She wanted to let out a sigh, so happy was she to discover that he wasn’t there about Brian. However, in the same instant, she was acutely cognizant of how flustered he was. It seemed as though he was as thrown off by their sudden reacquaintance as she.

He chuckled, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. “I’m not a complete and utter idiot, I assure you. And I do have a full working knowledge of the English language. I’m just a little nervous about…” He let the rest of his sentence fade.

She realized then that it wasn’t seeing her again that had him in such a tizzy, it was the occasion. This was probably his first parent-teacher meeting.

“You’re Charity Thunder’s father.” It was more a statement than a question, but she wanted him to know she finally was clear about who he was and what he was doing here.

Now that the situation had become a little less tangled, she felt it was her obligation to gather her wits about her and put on a professional face. However, the blatant fact that he was the cop who had chewed out her brother for breaking the law was enough to instill a hefty amount of awkwardness in her.

“Yes.” He seemed relieved to have his identity straightened out. “And I want you to know right off I don’t condone hitting. I apologize for Charity’s behavior.” He looked around the classroom. “Where is she, by the way? I thought she’d be here. I’m more than happy to show her that you and I are a united front against this kind of behavior.”

Gwen felt herself relax. She was pleased to realize this was one parent she wasn’t going to have to argue with about a student’s conduct. So often parents were unwilling to recognize or admit when their children were in the wrong.

“Charity’s with Principal Halley,” she told him. “I thought, since we didn’t get a chance to meet before school started, that today would be a good time for us to sit and chat.”

He nodded. “Well, just so you know, my daughter’s going to get an earful from me on the subject of hitting her fellow students.”

“Oh, now,” she said softly, “I think Charity realizes that she made a mistake.”

Sunlight streamed through the window, glinting off his badge. She thought it ironic that just last week this man had had to reprimand her brother and today she’d corrected his daughter. The idea made her a little uncomfortable, as if she and this stranger had too much of a hand in each other’s personal lives.

But that’s silly, she thought. After all, they were only doing their jobs.

However, something akin to intuition—no, something more astute than mere intuition, something souldeep—told her this meeting, this man, would mean something significant to her.

Oh, come on now, girl, she silently chastised. You’ve been spending too much time reading about Kolheek mysticism.

After a couple of seconds that seemed positively charged with the uneasiness that pulsed through her, she motioned to him with a wave of her hand. “Come on in and have a seat. Let’s talk.”

The only chairs available, other than her own, were built especially for pint-size, six-year-old bodies. He straddled one of the small seats and attempted to lower himself into it. He was a big man, and the honed bulk of him made the chair seem even smaller than it already was.

“I’m sorry about the seating,” she said, automatically rising and coming around her desk. “But this is all I have to offer.”

“It’s fine.”

But it was obvious to her that, with his knees bent up around his shoulders, he was surely in a most uncomfortable position. The situation was not fine and he was too polite to say so.

“How about if we just sit on the desks?” she offered.

His handsome face took on a look of incredible gratitude at the suggestion. She slid onto the top of the wooden desk that was closest to her. The officer—she still couldn’t get over how unsettled she was by that uniform—straightened his contorted posture and sat down on a neighboring desktop.

“Better?” she asked.

“Much.”

She forced herself to smile. “Good. Now that I know who you are, let me introduce myself.” She reached her hand out to him, and when he took it, the heat of him shocked her, short-circuited her thoughts, and for a second she couldn’t remember her own name.

“Gwen.” The word finally burst from her tongue. “Gwen Fleming.” She pumped his hand, drawing in a huge gulp of air, hoping to calm the astonishing riot going on inside her. “I’m Charity’s teacher.”

“And I’m her father, Nathan Thunder,” he provided.

He pressed his free hand against the back of hers, enveloping her in a blanket of feverish warmth.

“It’s good to meet you.” His mouth widened with sincerity.

Gwen felt hot. Cold. Panicked. If she didn’t sever contact with him soon, perspiration would surely break out across her brow. What in heaven’s name had gotten into her?

He released her hand, leaned back a bit and hitched his left ankle over his right knee. His fingers curled nonchalantly around his shin and Gwen couldn’t help but notice the tapered length of them. She wondered how they’d feel caressing her cheek.

She stifled her gasping reaction to the totally shocking thought. Her eyes widened. Something was really wrong here. A notion as strange as that one shouldn’t be in her head. This man was the parent of one of her students.

“I know that Charity missed—”

Her gaze seemed to take on a life all its own as it settled on his lips. She became mesmerized by the way his sexy mouth formed words.

“—the first few days of school—”

The bow centering his top lip with its two perfect points was so…attractive. How would it feel to gently drag her tongue across its surface? What would his mouth taste like against her own?

“—what with the testing Principal Halley insisted on.”

Gwen blinked. Dragging her tongue across his lip? Tasting his mouth? Had she totally lost her mind? Then other questions rolled through her head. Missed days? Testing? Oh, Lord. What in the world had he been talking about?

“I do understand the need for the tests, though,” Nathan Thunder continued.