Victoria Dahl – Bad Boys Do (страница 4)
Laughter rumbled through the room and Jamie found himself grinning at her as if he were somehow responsible for her good work.
“As this is a community class with no credits, it’ll be fairly laid-back. Please remember that when I give an assignment, it’s not for a grade. It’s an opportunity for you to increase your knowledge and maybe work toward a dream of opening a restaurant. Later, I’ll invite some discussion about what each of you is looking for out of this session. But we’re opening with information that applies to everyone regardless, so let’s just jump into it, shall we?”
She fired up the computer screen and started with statistics about the restaurant business in the real word. Jamie relaxed. This was exactly the kind of class he’d been looking for. He had plenty of ideas, but he needed to understand the practicality of it.
It was just an added bonus that Olivia Bishop was going to be the one to teach him.
He typed notes into his computer and only occasionally took a break to let his gaze wander over her tight calves. She wore black flats, but he could just imagine those legs in spike heels and a short black dress. Did she ever dress that way? She’d worn dark slacks and a sleeveless sweater to the brewery. Tight black dresses probably weren’t her thing. But there was something about her that made him itch to find out.
And when she finally looked up at him, when her eyes finally found him and widened, Jamie felt a sharp stab of interest. When she stumbled over her words and lost her place in the lecture, the interest grew into something more solid. It wasn’t the first time he’d flustered her, after all.
Maybe Olivia Bishop wasn’t as cool and calm as she thought she was.
HAD THAT DARK BEER he’d fed her damaged her brain? How else could she explain the vision of Jamie Donovan sitting in her classroom?
She should’ve noticed his name on the enrollment sheet, but she’d gone over it two weeks ago, before the trip to the brewery. So here she was, facing him with no warning at all.
Olivia smoothed down her sweater. She clutched the delicate cotton of her favorite dress, then made herself let go before she creased it beyond repair. “Um, so … Yes, on to first-year failure rates. You hear a lot of numbers thrown about, but they mean nothing unless we … um, unless we take a closer look at the causes of failure.”
She finally got back on track and made it through the full ninety minutes with a few shreds of dignity intact. Whenever she’d accidentally looked in his direction, he was diligently typing on his laptop, apparently taking the class seriously. That helped her relax, but that relaxation disappeared in an instant when she dismissed the class and Jamie started down the stairs instead of up.
There was no kilt for her to peek up, thank God. Today he wore ancient-looking jeans and another T-shirt. This shirt offered a faded Road Runner racing across his chest.
“Well, hello there, Miss Olivia.”
“Don’t call me that,” she corrected.
His eyebrow quirked. “Ms. Bishop, then. I kind of like that. Makes me want to bring you an apple.”
She couldn’t stop the blush climbing up her cheeks, so she shuffled papers around and let her hair fall forward. “This is a community outreach class. It’s just Olivia.”
“All right. Olivia.”
Just like last time, he made her name sound like something naughty. She cleared her throat. “Are you taking the class for the brewery?”
“Yes, just trying to brush up a little.”
“And the first session? Was it useful?”
“It was great. Honestly, I was worried I’d be wasting my time. That it would be too esoteric for my needs, but … You were really amazing.”
That brought her head up. “I was?”
“Yes. You’re in charge, yet you’re warm. You give the information without being dry.”
“Thank you.”
“And …” he leaned closer “… you’re by far the prettiest teacher I’ve ever had.”
Olivia dropped the papers she’d been straightening and stepped back. “Mr. Donovan.”
“Yes?”
“This isn’t appropriate.”
“I know.” His smile became a wicked endearment.
Olivia pretended she didn’t feel the shiver work through her. That smile had nothing to do with her. He’d likely trotted it out ten times today already. It was a tool, though she wasn’t exactly sure what he meant to fix with it.
“Flirtation is extremely inappropriate.”
“Extremely? Come on now. You’re just barely my teacher. You’re not even giving me a grade, so I think ‘extremely inappropriate’ is a stretch. But if you’re interested in being in a position of power …”
Olivia gasped and drew her chin in.
“Go out with me.”
“What? No! Didn’t you even hear what I said?”
“Didn’t you hear what
“You’re …” She waved a hand toward his body. “You’re just barely legal. What are you, twenty-five?”
“I’m twenty-nine. What about you? Thirty-one?”
“Thirty-five,” she bit out, her teeth threatening to break under the pressure when he gave a low whistle.
“Thirty-five, huh? I’d get a note from my dad, but he died a while ago. I think he’d be okay with it though.”
Olivia heard a soft growl and realized it was coming from her own throat. “No, thank you. But I appreciate the offer. Now if you don’t mind, I need to get to my next class.” That was an out-and-out lie, but desperate times called for desperate measures.
He shrugged, his body still perfectly loose and relaxed.
“Let me know if you change your mind. You know where I sit.”
He’d done that on purpose. She could see the mischief in his eyes as he turned to walk up the stairs.
Olivia had thought she was safe from the temptation to ogle since he wasn’t wearing the kilt, but his ass was on a perfect eye level as he ascended the stairs. And what a prize-winning ass it was. Round and tight and lovely.
If only she were a little bit younger. Or a little less careful. But she wasn’t.
She was just Olivia Bishop, but … she was learning to be happy with exactly that. She didn’t need to be someone different. And Olivia Bishop would never sleep with a young man in her class. Even if he did leave her body buzzing with excitement.
“Not in a million years,” she murmured as the door closed behind him.
OLIVIA SPENT THE REST of her day doing the responsible things she expected of herself. She cleaned her tiny office and filed away all the papers and notes from the spring semester. She called her dentist and rescheduled an appointment that conflicted with her summer class. Then she walked across campus to the library, her arms full of books and bound reports. It was a beautiful day, so this was one responsibility she didn’t mind. She was smiling by the time she dropped off the books, and instead of heading toward the nonfiction area, Olivia browsed the recent bestseller rack and paged through the fiction. Book club or not, she’d like to do more casual reading.
But her little bubble of relaxation was interrupted by the ding of her text message alert.
Hi, sweetheart. Are you going to Rashid’s farewell party tonight?
Sweetheart? Her ex-husband sure had a lot of nerve. He’d cheated on her. She’d divorced him. And he still thought he could manipulate her with his little hints and endearments.
Yes, she typed, assuming he’d ask her to pass along some message. Victor always left town as soon as his last spring class finished. Olivia was actually enjoying the quiet sunshine of the campus in summertime now that she wasn’t obliged to travel with Victor.
Her phone dinged again. Do you have the directions?
Olivia dropped the book she was holding and stared at her phone as the loud thunk echoed through the room. What the hell did he mean by that? The only reason she’d said yes to this party was because she was sure Victor wouldn’t be there with one of his recent graduates on his arm.
No, she typed, hitting Send as if she were pulling the trigger in a game of Russian roulette. She held her breath until the phone dinged softly again.
No problem. I’ll call Rashid. See you there, O.
That bastard. What right did he have to hang around when he was supposed to be gone? Had he stayed just for this? She didn’t think she was that important in his life, but he certainly seemed to relish any opportunity to strike up a conversation with her while his arm was draped around another woman.
She wondered which one he’d bring this time. Allison? Or was there a new one? It didn’t matter. Olivia could barely tell them apart anymore.
He’d been the one to cheat. She couldn’t understand why he was having so much trouble letting go. He’d lashed out as if it had been her fault.
Olivia closed the text window without replying. She picked up the book she’d dropped and left the library in a much different mood than when she’d entered. The walk across the campus now seemed an impossible distance.