He heard a rustling sound and found himself wondering what she wore to bed. Cotton? Silk? Nothing? Oh, jeez. Before he could ask himself why he was even thinking about Ms. Walsh in that context, she came back on the line.
“All right. What do you want, Mr. Granger?”
Thank God she didn’t know how loaded that question sounded at the moment. “You were right.”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me,” he grumbled, scowling at the squeak of surprise in her voice. “You were right about Kitty. Meet me at the school tomorrow. One o’clock.”
Abby blinked. Unable to believe what he’d just said and the dictatorial tone in which he’d said it, she held the receiver away from her ear and silently counted to ten before speaking again—slowly and distinctly. “Tomorrow is Saturday.”
“So?” he snapped. “Don’t you teachers ever work on weekends?”
“No. We don’t.” She shifted into the same bright tone she used with first graders. “But you know, if I didn’t have plans for tomorrow and you had phrased that as a request instead of an order, I might have been willing to think about making an exception for you.”
There was no way he could misunderstand that message. She grinned at the stunned silence on the other end of the line. Oh, she’d give a month’s salary to see his face right now. She heard him take a deep breath.
“Ms. Walsh, please—” he said.
He sounded as if his teeth might be gritted.
“—I would sincerely appreciate it if you could find it in your heart to change your plans and meet me in your classroom tomorrow.”
“That’s much better,” she said.
“Then you’ll meet with me?”
Hoo-boy, he really sounded steamed. “I’m sorry, but I really can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m signed up for a fun run at Manito Park, and then—”
“Fun run?”
He had a bad habit of interrupting her. “Yes. And I don’t intend to miss it.”
“What about after the fun run?”
“I’m baby-sitting for the rest of the weekend—not that it’s any of your business.” It was the price she’d had to pay for Erin’s expert opinion about Kitty. “I’m free after school on Monday.”
After another long silence, he replied in such a grudging tone that she had to bite her lower lip to stop herself from laughing out loud.
“All right. I’ll meet you at the school on Monday afternoon. Say, four o’clock?”
“Fine. Try to be on time. Good night, Mr. Granger.”
Without waiting for his reply, she hung up and flopped back on her bed, giggling. Oh, dear, this had to be a difficult time for him but he most definitely did not “play well with others.” He really needed to learn that he couldn’t run roughshod over other people, including his daughter and his daughter’s teacher.
But thank God, he’d finally agreed to get Kitty the help she needed. Now she could let Erin take over, gracefully bow out of the Grangers’ lives at the end of the school year and get on with earning her doctorate.
Jack spent the night fitfully rolling around in his bed, rehashing his conversations with Ms. Walsh and worrying about Kitty. By sunrise he gave up all hope of sleeping and dragged himself down to the kitchen. After putting on the coffee, he walked out to the road for the paper, scanning the front page on his way back to the house.
In the lower-right corner he spotted a teaser for a five-mile run to promote women’s health programs. He’d bet his next conviction that Ms. Walsh would be there. And so would he. Now that he knew Kitty needed help, he wanted to get on with the process. The sooner the better.
After leaving Kitty with his brother Dan, Jack arrived at Manito Park and made his way to the duck pond, the most logical place to put the finish line. Sure enough, there it was, complete with a big digital clock and a race official calling out individual runner’s times as they ran past him.
The jovial atmosphere took him back to his high school and college days when he’d been on the cross-country team. He felt a moment’s envy of the participants who were in good enough shape to run an eight-minute mile. It had been a long time since he’d found the time and energy to go for a run. Too long.
Hands in the front pockets of his khakis, he prepared to wait however long it took for Ms. Walsh to straggle in after running five miles. If she actually could run that far.
“Look, there she is,” shouted a little boy standing in front of Jack. “Way to go, Ms. Walsh!”
“Thirty-nine minutes and thirty-six seconds,” the official called.
Startled, Jack looked at the woman charging toward him and found himself doing a double-take. Her hair was plastered to her head with perspiration and pulled back in the usual ponytail, which was now puffed out in a mass of springy curls. Her face was red and glowing. She wore a white mesh singlet over a black sports bra, a red sweatband across her forehead, purple running shorts that showed off the sexiest pair of legs he’d ever seen and a worn pair of running shoes that proclaimed her to be a dedicated runner.
Man, did she ever look trim and fit. Still, teachers were like nuns and mothers. They weren’t supposed to have sexy legs like that, or slim, toned arms. Ms. Walsh ran past him, and he nearly swallowed his tongue. Teachers, mothers and nuns weren’t supposed to have tight, round little bottoms that made a man’s hands itch, either. He felt like a pervert for even thinking such thoughts about his daughter’s teacher, but he’d have to be dead not to react to seeing her showing that much skin. And it sure didn’t stop him from liking what he saw.
Ms. Walsh looked so…healthy. So full of life. So damn sexy, he couldn’t believe his eyes. Who would’ve guessed that under her long, flowing skirts and soft, colorful blouses was a body like that? Oh, boy, he had to stop staring at her, stop trying to envision what she might look like completely naked. She already disliked him intensely. If she ever realized he thought she was…hot—oh, he didn’t want to go there.
Slowing to a trot, she grabbed a paper cup of water from a volunteer, downed it in one gulp, then took another. She tossed the cups in a trash barrel and ran slowly toward the parking area. Jack called her name and waved one arm.
She glanced around, jogging in place until she spotted him. Ignoring her immediate frown, he hustled to join her. “Nice race,” he said when he reached her.
“What are you doing here, Mr. Granger?” she asked, still jogging in place.
“I want to talk to you about Kitty.”
“We have an appointment on Monday. Right now, I need to cool down.”
With that, she took off, maintaining a steady pace. Cursing under his breath, he went after her. He’d already wasted too much of his time this morning to let her get away from him now. His legs were so much longer than hers, he kept up with her by walking fast.
“Come on,” he said. “You’ve been after me to get Kitty into counseling for a long time. I’m finally ready to do it, and you’re not willing to help?”
“Not today,” she said. “If you want to help Kitty this weekend, take her out somewhere and have some fun. I’ll see you Monday afternoon.”
Veering off to the right, she gave him a jaunty wave and ran back toward the duck pond. Jack stood there watching her, anger and confusion warring inside him. And there was something else he couldn’t deny—a dose of lust. It was a hell