Page 56 of Guarded Deputy

“I should go.”

“Yeah, I need to have lunch.” I lift my lunchbox.

We both step to the right and then the left in an attempt to move around each other. Laughing, I snort and cover my face.

“If you wanted to dance, you just had to tell me,” he teases.

“Ditto.” I stand still. “Go ahead first.”

“Ladies first.” He winks, and I get the sense that he lives by that philosophy in all aspects of life—in and out of the bedroom.

We may not have had an open conversation, but his attitude tells me he’s clearly not thinking the kiss was a one-time thing.

“Thank you.” I curtsy and freeze halfway.

Why did I do that? Who curtsies to the guy they like? As if I were in some royal movie.

Nate chuckles and heads in the opposite direction while I wonder if I can hide from him for the rest of the day. I take one step forward and three backward with him. It seems I’m destined to make a fool out of myself with this man.

Lunch is uneventful with school gossip. Because of my run-in with Nate, I have to eat faster than usual. I don’t regret it, though. Those few minutes in the hallway with him were fulfilling.

Checking my mailbox before rushing to pick up my students from the cafeteria, I find a folded piece of paper. Curious about what it could be, I unfold it and read the small handwriting as I make my way to the cafeteria.

Lizzy,

I’ve kissed many women in the past. Wait, that came out wrong. I don’t mean that the way it sounds. You’re something different. Since the moment you called me a stripper, I knew you were trouble. That kiss was amazing, and I don’t regret it in case you were thinking that, but I don’t want your work life to be a mess because of me.

Hot and Packing Deputy

I snort at his sign-off name and shake my head, a blinding grin on my face. As soon as we’re back in the classroom, I tell my students to read a page from their science book and grab a paper and pen.

A haiku for you

You didn’t start the right way

But you are still cute

This is the worst thing I’ve written, but I promised myself I’d give you whatever I wrote on this paper. I’m glad you don’t regret it. It’s not every day I go kissing guys, even if they did take care of me when I had a rash.

Lizzy

I fold the paper and look around my classroom, wondering how I can get this to him. Walker sits at his desk, focused on the page of his book. I should wait until the end of the school day and not use Nate’s nephew as messenger.

That’s what the responsible teacher would do. And that’s what I am—Ms. Responsibility.

I stare out my classroom window on a sigh and smile to myself. Who knew accidentally calling 911 would lead me to meeting Nate. A meet-awkward for the books, and yet it’s somehow turning out to be unexpectedly wonderful.

“Ms. A? Ms. Andrews? I’m done.”

“Huh?” I look away from the window and stare at my students. They look at me as if I’m crazy.

I know, kids, I’ve lost my mind. We can all blame one tall, handsome deputy.

“Are you thinking about your boyfriend?”

“She doesn’t have a boyfriend,” one student argues.

“How do you know?” the other asks.