“Would you like me more if I’s a monkey?”
Imagining her trying to swing from the canopied bedposts, he hurriedly said, “No, I certainly would not like you better if you were a monkey.”
“Oh.” She sounded disappointed.
“I think staying a little girl is a wise move,” he said, fumbling with the sissy strap on her shoes. He felt like a bull in a china shop. His hands were so big and her little girl stuff was so tiny. The first time he’d had to help her with her clothes it had taken him an hour to get her dressed.
Finally he got the shoes off her feet and tucked neatly beneath her bed. “Okay, now you’re really ready for bed, right?”
Blue nodded.
“Good.”
“But Fooba isn’t,” she added.
Curt sighed. It was going to be another long night.
The next afternoon, Curt was once again in Jessica’s classroom, to pick up Blue after work. He was running five minutes behind schedule, but he should be able to make that up on the drive home providing he wasn’t delayed…
“Mr. Blackwell, I’d like to speak to you in private for a moment.”
The teacher. Glaring at him.
Curt sighed. There went his schedule.
Jessica heard him sigh, and the fact that he made her feel as if she was being a nuisance didn’t endear him to her any. Too bad. If he’d filled out the parental information forms about Blue’s likes and dislikes that Jessica had sent home with the little girl yesterday, then Jessica wouldn’t have to speak to him today.
No, that wasn’t entirely true. She’d still need to discuss with him what Blue had said about Curt not liking her and his having told her so. The little girl’s offhand comment had sliced Jessica’s heart. She wasn’t eager to spend any time with Curt, but she couldn’t turn her back on Blue. It was Jessica’s responsibility as her teacher to do what she could. Even if that meant dealing with Curt.
Today his marine uniform consisted of khaki green slacks and a khaki shirt. It made her wonder what he looked like in a black T-shirt and jeans. Don’t go there, she warned herself. Keep your mind on Blue.
But before she could bring up the matter of the missing forms, Curt said, “What’s the problem? Has Blue been misbehaving?”
“On the contrary,” Jessica replied. “She’s very careful not to do anything wrong.”
Curt’s relieved smile reflected his approval. “That’s good.”
“No, it’s not. Not when it means that she’s terrified of doing something wrong. She thinks you don’t like her.”
“I like the kid well enough,” Curt replied defensively, “and I never told her any differently.”
“So you never told her that you didn’t like her?”
His “No, ma’am” was a marine bark.
“Perhaps she overheard you telling someone else?” she suggested.
“No, ma’am.” His narrow-eyed gaze told her he didn’t appreciate this line of questioning.
“Have you told her that you love her?”
If she didn’t know better, she could almost have sworn that Curt actually squirmed in his seat. “No.”
“Why not? Children need to hear…”
“Look, I didn’t even know she existed until a few days ago, her mother never bothered telling me. When she died, the authorities tracked me down and brought Blue to me. I’ve only known her a few days.” Straightening his shoulders, Curt stared her right in the eye, his glance as steely as a double-edged sword. “Blue is my responsibility now, and I take my responsibilities seriously.”
“I’m just trying to do what’s right for Blue,” Jessica assured him. “She needs attention and security.”
“That’s why I signed her up here. That’s your job.”
Jessica refused to give in to her anger. “She’s looking for love and attention from a parent. From you. I realize that being a parent is a new situation for you. Our local community college has some classes that you might find helpful,” she suggested.
“I don’t need to go back to school,” he stated in disgust. “I’ve handled much more responsibility than a little three-year-old kid.” Seeing the expression on her face, he held up one hand and added, “I’m not saying I couldn’t use a few pointers. But you can do that. You can teach me what I need to know.”
Here it was. That fork in the road. Did she dare go down it with him? Even for Blue’s sake?
What other choice did she have? “I’d be willing to work with you and suggest some additional reading,” she said cautiously, “if you’re willing to learn some additional parenting skills.”
“Wait a second,” Curt said, a lightbulb suddenly going on in those brown eyes of his as he leaned forward to stare at her as if seeing her—really seeing her—for the first time. “I know who you are.”
Oh, no, not now. Not here. She wasn’t ready for this yet.
“You’re Jessie the Brain!” he said triumphantly. “We went to high school together.”
Chapter 2
“YOUR HAIR WAS LONGER then, but you gave me the same speech about being ‘willing to learn’ when you offered to tutor me in Geometry.”
Jessie the Brain. Curt couldn’t believe that she was back in his life again after all this time. The last time he’d seen her was…
He frowned. It had to have been that night before he’d left to join the marines. The memory was blurred by his having indulged in way too much alcohol that night. He recalled them bumping into each other and his surprise—first that he’d asked her to join him for a joy ride in his old red Mustang, second that she’d actually accepted, and third that he’d let her drive his car. They’d ended up in some park somewhere, and he’d kissed her…several times.
What happened after that wasn’t clear. But the next morning, he’d woken with the worst hangover of his life. His temples throbbed just thinking about it.
As for the vague sense of guilt he was feeling, no doubt it was a result of the fact that he’d never gotten in touch with her again after that night.
At the time, he’d briefly wondered how far their making out had gone. Had he reached first base…or third? There was little to no chance he’d hit a home run and gone all the way—not with Jessie the Brain. She was a “good” girl, pure and demure. His total opposite.
Maybe this explained why she’d stared at him with such underlying hostility earlier. He’d probably made an idiot of himself that night, and she’d put him in his place when he’d tried to seduce her.
He looked at her with new eyes. Her honey-blond hair used to be longer, almost down to her waist. It was barely shoulder-length now, in one of those layered cuts that women these days seemed to favor. A hazy memory of him threading his fingers through her long silky hair flashed through his mind with the abruptness of an exploding land mine. He blinked at the unexpected vision. But when he tried to recapture the image, it was gone.
She had cat’s eyes, tipped up at the outside corners. Leaning forward, he saw that they were an intense shade of green that reminded him of the jungles in the Philippines. Unless she was wearing colored contact lenses?
He cynically reminded himself that women had various ways of camouflaging themselves into something they weren’t—everything from nose jobs to breast implants.
His