She tightened her grip on the wheel but the bus seemed to have a mind of its own. She scrambled for the brake and engaged it with all her strength. At the sickening clang of metal hitting metal, she jerked a look in the side mirror and saw the black truck she’d just hit. The bus had finally stopped, but her pounding heart nearly drowned out the kids’ excited murmurs.
They all rushed to the back window, crawling over each other to see the damage.
“Please, everyone, be quiet and take your seats.” Melanie hesitated before opening the door. She pretended to wait for the kids to obey but mostly she was trying to stop shaking. “Now,” she said in a sterner voice, and they finally sat back down, still straining to watch the man slide out of the truck.
He was tall, wore his dark hair close-cropped, but he was far from clean-cut. At least three days’ worth of stubble covered his jaw. Very calmly he walked around to the hood of his vehicle and assessed the damage.
Melanie sucked in a fortifying breath, then climbed out. She paused to stick her head back in the bus. “Everyone stay here. Understand?”
She got a few nods. Unfortunately, they came from the kids who didn’t worry her. Dragging her clammy palms down the front of her jeans, she rounded the rear of the bus.
The man glanced up. He had blue eyes. Really blue. The kind of blue that made her forget what she was going to say. Then he smiled. She knew her mouth was open and she’d better think of something fast.
Rubbing a hand over his short hair, he turned to the bus’s bumper. “Could’ve been worse.”
“I’m so sorry,” she murmured. “I don’t know what happened.”
“Right there.” He gestured with his dimpled chin.
Her gaze followed his to the rear left tire. “Oh. A flat? I should’ve felt that before I even started the engine.”
“No, it blew out while you were reversing.” He glanced at the curious faces pressed against the back window. “Good thing you weren’t on the highway,” he said and crouched down for a better look, frowning at the other tire. “This happen often?”
“I don’t think so, but I’m not the regular driver. I’m their teacher. I only use the bus three times a week to bring them here.”
Squinting against the sun’s glare, he gave her another look.
“Are you Melanie Knowles?”
“Yes.” It didn’t register at first, and then her insides did a little tap dance. “Are you from Prison Reform Now?”
“Lucas Sloan,” he said, pushing up and offering his hand. “I’m early.”
Thank goodness she had the presence of mind to wipe her damp palms on her jeans again. His hand dwarfed hers, the skin rough and calloused like that of most of the men who worked the ranches in the area. But she couldn’t recall a man’s handshake ever sending a jolt of electricity up her arm. Had to be his eyes. Staring into them was dangerous. She’d lost track of the conversation.
She recovered quickly, and they both let go at the same time. “How’s your truck?” She moved away to check his bumper. It wasn’t as horrifying as she’d expected. “The school has insurance. Of course, we’ll take care of it.”
“I’m not worried. We’ll let the insurance companies duke it out.” He smiled, his teeth so white against his tanned face. “Let’s focus on getting you back on the road with these kids. I assume you have a jack and spare.”
“I hope so. We should.” She paused for a moment, pretty sure she’d seen something of that nature behind the last row of seats. She turned to go have a look, then realized she was being rude. Melanie glanced over her shoulder to tell him that...
He was staring at her backside.
Her breath caught. Men didn’t stare at her like that.
Again she lost track of what she was going to say. Swallowing, she tucked her unruly hair behind her ear and hurried onto the bus.
“Who is that, Ms. Knowles?” Chelsea was kneeling on the last seat to peer out the rear window. “He’s hot.”
Cody made a sound of disgust. “That guy’s old enough to be your father.”
“No, he isn’t.” Chelsea tossed her long hair and smiled at Lucas. Everyone knew Cody had a crush on her, including Chelsea.
“Excuse me, Chelsea. You’ll have to move.” Melanie could access the equipment without displacing the girl, but she doubted Lucas appreciated being ogled by a seventeen-year-old going on thirty. Or maybe not. What did she know about him? “One of you boys, help me pull this out, please.”
Cody and another student jumped up. Cody was lean but strong and used to manual labor. Russ wasn’t a weakling, though he was more the studious type.
Darn it. Great time for the husky football players to be at practice. She could’ve used them to change the tire. Now she’d have to call her boss to send someone. It would take forever.
She saw Lucas watching her, his brows raised in question. She gave him a nod, then asked the rest of the kids to stand aside so the boys could drag the tire and tools down the short aisle. Getting out of the way herself, she grabbed her phone off the driver’s seat and left the bus.
“I think we have everything,” she told Lucas. “It can’t be much different than a car, right?” Her finger poised for speed dial, she stepped farther back so she wasn’t blocking the door. “But if you notice we’re missing something, I’d appreciate knowing before I call someone to come out.”
He frowned, then turned his attention to the two boys wrestling the oversize tire and large metal box to the door. Without hesitation, Lucas hefted the box from the bus to the ground. It landed with a thud. Good grief—she’d had no idea it was that heavy.
Cody had some trouble getting the tire out, but she noted that Lucas seemed careful not to jump in and take over. He stood back, watching the boys work it out. While he was occupied, her gaze meandered down his lean body. His jeans were on the worn side but his white shirt was spotless, the sleeves deftly rolled back to the middle of his muscled forearms. Someone had taken care to iron that shirt. A wife perhaps? His ring finger was bare but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.
Once the tire hit the ground, Lucas put his booted foot out to stop it from bouncing.
“Think you guys can give me a hand swapping out the tires?” he asked the boys.
“Sure,” Cody said with a shrug as if it were no big deal.
Russ 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.”