parenting experience. Since you weren’t…uh…wearing a wedding ring or anything. But I guess I shouldn’t assume…anything nowadays….”
Dinah let her words fall away, her blush deepening with each of her awkward comments. The familiar need to protect and preserve filled Alex, and he didn’t even have on his gear. He hated making her feel this uncomfortable even if he was secretly pleased that she’d admitted to checking his hand for a wedding band.
“Assume away. I don’t have any little Alexes running around anywhere. I’m a bit traditional when it comes to the marriage-before-kids order of things. And I’ve never done the first, so…”
She nodded as he let his words fall away, but her cheeks were still stained pink.
His gaze lowered to her hand again, where she wore nothing more significant than a thin gold pinkie ring. Her title had given him the heads-up that she was unmarried, but he still was surprised that she didn’t even wear an engagement ring. She probably had to dodge proposals left and right.
“Then we’re even,” she said finally.
“Even?”
“No kids.”
“At least you have some training with them.”
She smiled. “Nothing like the on-the-job variety you’re getting.”
“Training,” he said, scoffing at her comment. “I guess you could call it that. But usually in on-the-job training you have a supervisor to tell you if you’re doing things wrong. I hope I’m not messing these kids up forever.”
“They’ll be fine.” She paused long enough to give him a smile that could warm the North Pole by a few degrees. “Kids are resilient and forgiving, just like hostas. Ever planted a hosta?”
She must have seen his incredulous look because she explained. “Hostas are really hardy perennials. Pretty much no matter what you do to them, they’ll still come back in the spring.”
“So if your analogy holds true, Chelsea and Brandon will survive no matter what I do to—”
She was shaking her head before he’d presented the whole premise. “The theory need not be tested.” But she smiled as she said it.
“Good. Do I look like the kind of man who might grow hostas?” He raised his hand as a sign to stop her. “Wait. Don’t answer that. My masculinity might be bruised.”
“Probably not. You didn’t strike me as the green-thumbed type.”
“What type did I strike you as?” He took an unhurried look at her, waiting for her to glance away. For the longest time she didn’t, and it surprised him how dry his mouth was by the time she did.
“Don’t answer that, either,” he said to diffuse the electrical charge filling the air. Even a fire hose couldn’t douse that spark.
“You struck me as Chelsea’s very important guardian.”
So much for the charge. He couldn’t decide whether she’d said it for his sake or hers, but either way, she was right. His plate was already overfilled with his temporary family. The last thing he needed was to let a beautiful woman distract him from the all-important job of caring for Chelsea and Brandon.
Besides, he’d avoided female complications for the last year and the plan was working for him, so he didn’t want to mess that up by letting a pretty redhead turn his head.
From now on he would see Miss Fraser—yes, it was better to think of her that way—only as a partner in helping Chelsea get through this tough time. He wouldn’t allow himself to be attracted to the lovely teacher with the sweet disposition.
That was final. Finito. So why did he feel as if it was a little late for him to be making that decision—like running into a blaze when there was nothing left but smoldering embers?
Chapter Two
Dinah watched as Alex strode out of her classroom, all muscle and sinew—proof of a man who regularly put his back into his work. A sigh escaped her before she knew it was coming. Even as she pulled her gaze away from his retreating form—from the pale yellow polo shirt that stretched across his back as he moved—her cheeks burned.
Since when did she notice broad shoulders, toned biceps or even deep brown eyes and neatly trimmed dark hair when the only thing that truly mattered about a person lay deep inside him where no one but God could see? What mattered was his heart.
A small smile settled on her lips. That argument wouldn’t work when Alex Donovan appeared to be just as appealing on the inside as he was outside where the rest of the world could see. And the world had to see unless all the people in it had simultaneously closed their eyes. Still, what other bachelor could she name who would drop everything in his life and step in to care for a cousin’s children when he had none of his own?
Her brother, Jonah? She shook her head as she flipped open her grade book and glanced down at the list of names and corresponding scores for spelling and geography tests and daily math homework. Jonah was a great guy. He’d even served his country and fought for freedom in Iraq, but he would probably draw the line when it came to becoming guardian to someone else’s kids. She wouldn’t have put it past him to recommend her for the job, though.
Okay, there was one other man she knew of who might have done something that extreme in his bachelor days, but then her father had always stood head and shoulders above other men in her opinion.
What did that say about Alex Donovan? That he was brave? He did fight fires for a living, and most cowards probably avoided that high-risk career like a case of leprosy. Did it say he was a loving person then? She had only to see the way that Chelsea talked about her “Uncle Alex” to know that one was true.
Dinah stopped herself before she applied every desirable personality trait her amazing father possessed to Alex, the majority of which she couldn’t possibly confirm or discount.
You struck me as Chelsea’s very important guardian. She reminded herself of her own words that she’d used to cut off his flirting. He had been flirting, too. She might not have been a true veteran of the dating wars, but she’d been in enough minor skirmishes to know that one for sure.
If she were honest with herself, she would have to admit she hadn’t discouraged him initially, but she decided to attribute that to the shock of seeing a massive, gorgeous man in her classroom when the males who surrounded her most days stood about waist high. Sure, she’d scheduled the three o’clock appointment with a grown-up, but this was her excuse, and she was sticking to it.
“What kind of daydreams are you having?”
Dinah jerked her head toward the sound, finding kindergarten teacher Shelley Foust standing in the doorway to her classroom, her arms crossed and a knowing expression on her face.
“What do you mean?” Dinah did her best to act nonchalant as she closed the grade book she hadn’t been looking at anyway.
“You know what I mean. Tall, dark and hunky who just walked out of this room, his shoulders barely fitting through the doorway.”
For a brand-new teacher, straight from Penn State, Shelley didn’t miss much, especially
