pushed his glasses back in place and nodded, not looking quite as confident.
Melanie shook her head. “I’m calling the school to send someone....”
“No need,” Lucas said, unfastening the buttons on his shirt.
Melanie’s gaze went to the wedge of chest he’d exposed. By the time she could speak, he’d undone two more. “No, really, we’re close enough to town, Mr. Sloan. It won’t take someone long to—”
“It’s Lucas.” He shrugged out of the shirt. “Would you mind?” he asked, holding it out to her.
“Of course not.” She checked her hand to make sure it was clean but also to redirect her attention. Staring stupidly at his muscled chest wouldn’t do.
After handing off the shirt, he took the spare and rolled it to the rear of the bus. His back and shoulder muscles were equally well developed, and if not for the three senior girls fogging the bus’s windows, Melanie might not have caught herself staring a bit too intently. She motioned for them to go back to their seats, but they took her hand gesture as a cue to rush to the door.
“No.” She met them before Chelsea left the bottom step. “Stay inside. The guys don’t need an audience.”
Leaving the tire with Cody, Lucas approached her, a faint smile touching the corners of his mouth. “They all need to get off so we can jack up the bus.”
“Oh, right. I knew that.” She watched him pick up the box of tools and head to the back of the bus.
The girls came spilling out. Mia and Chelsea had both applied peach-tinted lip gloss. “Oh, for goodness’ sakes,” Melanie muttered. Lucas looked to be in his early thirties. Teenage girls these days had no shame and few boundaries.
As if it had a will of its own, her gaze went to Lucas’s bulging biceps. Apparently, neither did their teacher.
“Want me to hold that for him?”
Melanie blinked at Chelsea. She meant his shirt. “No, I’m putting it out of harm’s way. You girls stay back. Leave Mr. Sloan some breathing room.”
“He said we could call him Lucas,” Chelsea said with a cheeky grin.
“No, he told me to call him Lucas. You may call him Mr. Sloan.” Melanie realized she was crushing his shirt collar and hurried onto the bus to find a safe place to hang the garment.
Brandon was still in his seat texting. Mark sat behind him, one with his smartphone.
“Come on, guys. Get off now.” She draped the shirt over the steering wheel, then followed the boys out.
“She really is a cool teacher. Our favorite.”
Melanie heard Chelsea’s voice coming from behind the bus. She paused and smiled. Though she wasn’t bucking for teacher of the year, it was nice to know what the students thought of her.
“Even if she is old-fashioned,” Chelsea said just as Melanie was about to join them.
The awful term stopped her cold. She almost turned around and headed for the office. The girl didn’t know she was there. But Lucas did. From his crouched position, his gaze swept up to briefly meet hers. Melanie managed to find a smile for him but it was too late. He’d already shifted his attention back to loosening the lug nuts.
Old-fashioned? That was how the students regarded her? Maybe she shouldn’t be shocked... No, not shocked so much as hurt. Though why should she care? She was their teacher. But she was only twenty-seven, barely ten years older than most of them.
“I’m going to call the school and let them know why we’re late,” she said. “Lucas, we have some water and soda in the office. May I get you something?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.” He gave her a smile that should’ve made her breath catch.
Instead, she sighed as it sank in that Chelsea was right. Melanie wasn’t anything like the exciting and daring women she saw on television. And she certainly wasn’t a woman a man like Lucas would look at twice.
2
LUCAS STOOD BACK and let Cody tighten the lug nuts on the spare tire. Fortunately, they’d been working in the shadow of the bus, but it was still warm. Earlier he’d asked one of the kids to find him a clean rag and he used it to blot his face before rubbing the grime from his hands.
Melanie had checked with him once and then disappeared into the office again. He thought about sending the ever-helpful Chelsea to get her, but he wanted to have a word with her in private.
“I want to talk to your teacher,” he said to Cody. “You don’t need me. You’ve got this.”
“Yeah, no problem.” He put a little more muscle into the job. Strictly for show. The kid had it bad for Chelsea and all she’d done was ignore him and flirt with Lucas.
Man, the girl scared the crap out of him. Since when were seventeen-year-old girls so damn bold? Lucky for him, he hadn’t been around teenagers much. But he’d been one himself not that long ago, and getting dissed by a girl like Chelsea? It hurt.
He took his time, scoping out all the new construction. The barn hadn’t been painted yet. Another structure was missing a wall but there were no workers in sight. Could be the sanctuary had run out of money. That sort of thing happened too often. He ducked his head to see inside the older barn. Bales of hay were stacked in the corner. Several goats roamed freely, pilfering scratch from clucking chickens.
What interested him most were the corrals and fenced pasture. He knew Safe Haven could handle over a hundred horses space-wise. As for feed and vet services, his organization would cover those costs. If he could convince Melanie Knowles and Shea Monroe to participate in the program.
The log-cabin-style office was obviously new. He scraped the bottom of his boots on the mat, then knocked on the door that matched the green roof.
“It’s open,” Melanie called out.
He stepped inside and waited for her to look up.
She lifted her head, her brown eyes widening. “Oh. Sorry, I thought you were one of the kids.” She swept back flyaway strands of dark hair and quickly remade her ponytail. “Are you done?”
“Cody is finishing up.”
“That was fast.” She tapped the stack of papers she’d been working on into a neat pile and stood. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your help.” She blinked at his chest. “You’re probably looking for your shirt. I put it in the bus.”
The faint rosy blush that spread across her cheekbones reminded him of Chelsea’s comment. He supposed most kids considered their teachers old and stodgy. But Melanie? In that close-fitting red T-shirt and jeans, she looked barely older than her students.
Not until she cleared her throat did he realize he’d been staring. She came around the desk and went to a dorm-size refrigerator in the corner. She bent over and rifled around inside. Luckily, he’d stopped noticing how the soft denim molded her ass a second before she turned
