Читать книгу A Younger Man - Linda Turner - Страница 8

“Look, Mommy,” Tommy said happily, holding up the turtle he’d just carried in from the backyard. “I’m taking Pete with me to school!”

In the process of checking her sons’ backpacks to make sure they would have everything they would need for their first day of school, Natalie glanced up in alarm. “What? Oh, no, you’re not!”

“It’s okay,” Harry said as he followed his brother into the kitchen. Carrying his own turtle and unmindful of the dirty water dripping onto his clean shirt, he flashed a sweet, boyish grin at her. “The teacher won’t care. Sean said everybody is supposed to bring something the first day for show and tell.”

Swallowing a groan, Natalie didn’t know if she wanted to laugh or cry. Sean Johnson, the next-door neighbor’s son, was the bane of her existence. Nine going on thirty, he was constantly giving her sons advice that invariably led them into one mess after another.

“I’m sure Sean meant well,” she told them as she quickly took the turtles from them and returned them to the small plastic pool they called home in the backyard. “You can take your turtles to school, but not today. First, you have to get permission from your teacher.”

“She won’t mind, Mom,” Tommy assured her earnestly. “Sean said so.”

“Just to be sure, we’ll play it safe. Now, come on. I’ve got to get you two cleaned up or you’re going to be late for school.”

“Aw, Mom, not again! Do we have to?”

“We just changed shirts!”

They had, in fact, already changed twice, but she couldn’t let them go to school looking as if they’d been playing in the mud. Bustling them into their room, she snatched their dirty shirts over their heads and had to laugh as they chatted like magpies.

She wasn’t laughing thirty minutes later, however, as she hurriedly walked the boys to their classroom. “Can you stay with us, Mom? Pleeeze?”

“We don’t want you to go to college,” Tommy added, wrapping his arms around her legs. “You can go to school with us.”

She saw the touch of fear in his eyes as well as Harry’s, and forced an upbeat smile. “I’d love to, hotshot, but the principal won’t let me. Your school is for boys and girls, not mommies. But you’ll be okay—I promise. You’re going to learn to read and add and subtract and do all sorts of things. Trust me…you’re going to love it!”

They didn’t look convinced, but then one of the little boys already in the classroom stepped forward and said, “Hey, are you guys twins? I’m a twin! See—there’s my brother.”

The boys absolutely loved being twins, and they were instantly fascinated. Turning to check out the other twins, they said in unison, “Wow!” Giving her a quick hug, they sprinted across the room to make friends.

Knowing they would never miss her, Natalie only took time to assure the teacher she would be back to pick the boys up when school was out, then rushed outside to her car. Hurry. The single word beat like a drum in her head. She had fifteen minutes to make it to class. She would have to fly.

It was a beautiful August day, and as she raced through the streets of Eagle, Colorado, all the lights turned green right on time. For a moment she thought she was going to make it. Then, just two miles from the campus of Mountain State University, her right rear tire blew with no warning. Startled, she gasped as the car swerved sharply to the right.

“Oh, no!” she cried, fighting to control it. “This can’t be happening! I’m already late!”

The powers-that-be didn’t care. The awkward thump of the flat echoed loudly as she steered her ten-year-old Honda over to the curb.

She wasn’t a woman given to profanity, especially since she’d had her sons, but at that moment she could have cursed a blue streak. Class started in eight minutes. She was never going to make it.

“Well, damn!”

Another woman would have called her road service, then waited for a big strong man to change the flat for her. But she didn’t have road service, and there was no big strong man in her life. Ever since Derek had decided he didn’t want to be a father or a husband, she’d learned to do things herself. That included changing flats. Resigned, she turned off the motor and stepped to the back of the car to unlock the trunk and retrieve the jack. She didn’t even worry about getting dirty—there was no point. It was a given she was going to get filthy.

Five minutes later she was struggling to loosen the lug nuts and not getting anywhere fast. Frustrated, she was considering giving the wheel a good swift blow with the lug wrench when a motorcycle suddenly pulled up behind her. A Good Samaritan at last, she thought with a sigh of relief. She was still going to be late for class, but she couldn’t worry about that. She just hoped that whoever her rescuer was, he was big and strong. Because nothing short of a Hercules was going to loosen those darn nuts.

At any other time she might have been nervous if she’d been stranded on the side of the road with no one around to help her but a lone motorcycle rider. But she was on the main thoroughfare to the university, it was broad daylight, and it was the first day of the fall semester. Cars streamed by in never-ending numbers. Surely an ax murderer wouldn’t be at work under such circumstances.

Rising to her feet to face her rescuer, a smile of gratitude already curling the corners of her mouth, she felt her breath hitch in her throat at the sight of him. She readily admitted that there was something about motorcyclists that had always fascinated her. Dressed in black leather, riding down the street on their growling steel-and-chrome bikes, they were like dark knights, bold and daring, in search of adventure. And if she thought there was even a chance her boys would grow up to ride motorcycles, she’d lock them both in their rooms until they were thirty-five!

That didn’t mean, however, that she couldn’t appreciate the man striding toward her. He’d taken off his helmet and left it on his bike, and she couldn’t stop her heart from skipping a beat or two as she got a good look at him. Tall and lean, with thick golden-brown hair that was rebelliously long, he had a confident stride to his step and a glint of amusement in his blue eyes that was incredibly appealing. And he couldn’t have been a day over twenty-two.

So? a voice drawled in her head. He could be thirty-five and wonderful and you still wouldn’t give him the time of day. You’ve sworn off men. Remember?

She didn’t deny it. When it came to love and romance, she was done, finis, finished. The only men in her life were her sons, and that’s the way she intended to keep it. If she sometimes felt a pang of loneliness and longing in the dark of the night, then that was her little secret.

“Having trouble?” the knight in black leather asked her with a crooked smile. “Looks like you could use a hand.”

“I just need the lug nuts loosened,” she said. “I can do the rest myself.”

His smile deepened into a grin. “A liberated woman. I like that. The way I see it, everyone should know how to change a flat and cook an omelet. It should be one of the essential skills they teach in school. Then you can always get where you’re going and you won’t go hungry.”

Dropping down to one knee in front of the flat tire, he looked up at her with twinkling eyes. “You look like a woman who would know her way around a kitchen. What do you like to cook? French? Italian?”

She felt the warmth of his gaze all the way down to her toes, and for a moment, her mind went completely blank. Then his eyes crinkled with amusement and she realized she was staring at him as if she didn’t have a brain in her head. Heat rushed into her cheeks, mortifying her. What was wrong with her? She was too old to blush!

“I’m sorry,” she said stiffly. “I don’t mean to be rude, but I’m really in a hurry. I’ve got to get to school.”

Interest sparked in his eyes. “School? You go to Mountain State?”

She nodded, then grimaced wryly. “Well, I will if my professor doesn’t kick me out before I even get to sit in on his first class.”

“Oh, I doubt he’ll do that,” he replied as he easily loosened one lug nut, then another. “Most of the professors are pretty reasonable. What’s your first class?”

“Archeology,” she said, “with Professor Sullivan.”

“Sullivan?” he said, arching a brow consideringly. “From what I’ve heard, he’s a decent guy. Just tell him you had a flat on the way to school. I’m sure he’ll cut you some slack.”

“I’ve just waited so long to go to college, and I want to start out on the right foot. Not that the professor will probably even notice,” she added. “I’ve heard that some of the classes are so large there’s no way the teachers even know who all their students are.”

“Oh, Sullivan will notice you,” he assured her with a grin. “You’re cute. And I heard he was partial to redheads.”

Heat climbing in her cheeks, she narrowed her eyes at him. “Are you flirting with me?”

Not the least bit concerned by her warning tone, he winked at her. “Got it in one, sweetheart. How’m I doing?” When she just gave him a baleful look, he chuckled. “That good, huh? Give me time. I’m just warming up.”

His eyes danced with laughter, and she had to admit that there’d been a time in her life when she might have been tempted. She’d always had a weakness for scamps, and there was no question that her handsome Samaritan had, no doubt, been using a smile and the glint in his eyes to get his way with women ever since he was old enough to crawl. But he had to be at least ten years younger than she was, and she was older and wiser than she’d once been.

Anxious to be on her way, she said lightly, “I really hate to shoot you down, but I’ve got to go. Thanks for loosening the lug nuts for me. I’ll take it from here.”

Not the least disturbed that she was giving him the brush-off, he only grinned. “No problem. I’ve got it.” And not giving her time to argue further, he jacked up the back of her car and quickly replaced the flat with her spare. Two minutes later, he loaded the flat and jack in the trunk of her Honda, slammed the lid and turned to her with a smile. “You’re all set to go.”

“Thank you so much,” she said with a sigh of relief. “You don’t know how much I appreciate this.”

“Get the flat fixed as quickly as you can,” he told her as he opened her door for her and she quickly slipped into the driver’s seat. “Your spare’s pretty thin.”

“I know. I’ve been meaning to get new tires, but you know how that goes.” Smiling, she quickly started the car. “Thanks again for all your help. Gotta go.”

“Hey, wait!” he said, startled, as she put the car in gear. “What’s your number? Let’s meet—”

Waving, she drove off.

“—for a drink,” he called after her. She didn’t even slow down. Ten seconds later she turned at the next corner and disappeared from view. Grinning, he grabbed his helmet and jumped on his bike. Ten seconds later he, too, turned at the next corner.

Her first class was in Old Main, and Natalie couldn’t find a parking space anywhere. Softly cursing, she quickly cruised down the surrounding streets, keeping a eye out for the campus police and any space big enough to squeeze her car into. And with every tick of the clock on the dash, the knot in her stomach tightened.

When she finally found a parking place six blocks away, she was already late for class. Now it was only a question of how late. Quickly pulling into the small space between two pickups that were over their lines, she grabbed her backpack and sprinted for Old Main.

She was breathless by the time she reached her classroom. Hesitating outside in the hallway, she dreaded opening the door and walking in. Rushing in ten minutes after class started, the object of all eyes, was not the way she’d dreamed of starting college, but there was no help for it. Dragging in a calming breath, she straightened her shoulders and pulled open the door.

Just as she’d expected, all eyes swung her way. Heat climbed in her cheeks and she was only concerned with finding a seat and disappearing. But first she had to apologize to her professor for being so late. Forcing a weak smile, she directed her gaze to the man standing at the front of the classroom. “I’m so sorry—”

That was as far as she got. Her gaze locked with familiar sparkling blue eyes that were full of mischief, and suddenly her heart was pounding in confusion. This was Maxwell Sullivan? A biker with a fast smile and a quick line who came to the aid of damsels in distress? He couldn’t be! Maxwell Sullivan was not only a professor of archeology, but a writer who was a true-life Indiana Jones. He traveled all over the world, solving mysteries that were older than dirt, then came home and wrote bestselling novels about his adventures by weaving archeological facts into fiction. He couldn’t possibly be her Good Samaritan! He was too young, too carefree, too cute to be a stodgy old professor.

“I’m sorry,” she said huskily. “Excuse me. I must be in the wrong classroom.”

“Not so fast,” Maxwell Sullivan said easily as she turned to leave. “You’re in the right place…or at least you are if you’re Natalie Bailey. Everyone else answered roll.”

Stunned, she just stared at him. “But you’re supposed to be older!”

It wasn’t until the rest of the class laughed that she realized she’d blurted out her thoughts. Mortified, she wanted to sink right through the floor. Forcing a weak smile, she said, “Excuse me while I take my foot out of my mouth. I just thought—”

“What everyone else in the class thought,” he finished for her with an easy grin. “So, please, don’t apologize. I’ll be the first to admit I’m not your average professor.”

“So just how old are you?” a cocky eighteen-year-old asked him from the front row. “Are you sure you have your Ph.D? You don’t look old enough to shave, dude.”

“You can thank my parents for that,” Max retorted, chuckling. “I’ve got good genes. And yes, I do have my Ph.D. If you don’t believe me—check me out. I didn’t buy any of my degrees on the Internet.”

“But you’ve got to be too young to be a professor,” another student said with a frown. “How old were you when you graduated from high school? Nine?”

“Not quite,” he laughed. “I was sixteen.”

“Sixteen!”

“No way!”

Grinning at the uproar that created, he added, “I got my B.A. when I was nineteen.”

The rest of her classmates found that hard to accept, but Natalie could well believe he’d finished college in three years. She’d read his books—they were complex and detailed and filled with fascinating historical facts. Knowing nothing else about him other than his published work, she’d never doubted that he was anything short of brilliant…which was why she’d been so eager to sign up for his class. She’d never dreamed he’d be a biker with peach fuzz on his cheeks.

Okay, so he wasn’t that young. It was his quick, teasing smile that made him look like a teenager, she decided as her gaze moved to the sensuous lines of his mouth. Boyish dimples flashed with every smile, but it was the self-deprecating twinkle in his eye that charmed her. What woman could resist a man who didn’t take himself seriously? How old was he? Frowning, she tried to do the math. If he graduated from college with his B.A. when he was nineteen, then spent the next four or five years finishing graduate school and his Ph.D., then he had to be at least…

“Twenty-eight,” he said with a quirk of a smile as he looked her right in the eye and read her mind. “I’ve been teaching for five years.”

From across the room, someone asked him when he’d gone on his first dig, but Natalie hardly heard his answer for the pounding of her heart. He gave the other students who asked questions the courtesy of his attention, but it seemed as if his gaze always returned to hers.

You’re imagining it, she told herself. He’s your professor, for heaven’s sake! And a biker who’s footloose and fancy-free. You’re a mother with twins and the only one your boys can depend on to be there for them. The last thing you want or need is a man.

She couldn’t argue with that. Her day started early and ended late, and, thanks to her deadbeat ex, she was not only the sole breadwinner, but also chief cook and bottlewasher, housekeeper, chauffeur, dragon slayer, crises solver, and entertainment director. She didn’t have trouble sleeping at the end of the day—she just collapsed from exhaustion. Even if Derek hadn’t totally put her off ever giving her heart to a man again, she didn’t know how she would have fit one into the crazy days that were her life. There just wasn’t time…especially now that she’d added college student to the many hats she wore.

She’d waited a long time for this day, she reminded herself grimly, as Maxwell Sullivan turned the conversation to the topics he would be covering over the course of the semester, the term paper that would count for twenty-five percent of their grade, and the dig they were all required to go on over the Thanksgiving holiday. The only reason she was here was to get an education.

Quickly grabbing a pen from her purse, she opened a spiral notebook and began taking notes. Diligently, she wrote down every word. She didn’t have to look around to know that she was eighteen years older than the majority of the students, and she readily admitted that she was more than a little intimidated. How was she going to keep up? Most of her classmates had just graduated from high school a few months ago, and their study habits were as fresh in their minds as the memories of their senior prom. She, on the other hand, didn’t even remember how to study. What, she wondered, trying not to panic, was she doing here?

Watching her from the corner of his eye as he discussed some of the well-known historical digs he’d been on, Max reminded himself that he wasn’t the kind of teacher who allowed himself to become interested in his female students. Not only did the administration frown on it, but he didn’t want or need the complication. So why the devil was Natalie Bailey so distracting? It wasn’t as if she was trying to attract his attention. Most of the time her head was bent over her notes. She hardly looked up at all, and when she did, it was obvious that she was totally focused on his lecture. He should have been thankful for that. Instead he found himself wishing she’d look up and smile at him. What was going on here?

Losing his place in his lecture—something that rarely happened—he frowned and quickly got himself back on track…but not for long. He turned to pull down a map of ancient Egypt, and there she was again, right in his line of vision. He hadn’t been lying earlier when he’d told her that her archeology professor was partial to redheads. He was—he readily admitted it. She’d twisted her dark-auburn curls up on her head, exposing the tempting lines of her throat, and he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. She wasn’t the kind of woman he would have called beautiful—with her quick flash of dimples, pert nose, and petite five-foot-two figure, she looked more like the girl next door.

But there was more to her than that. There was that stubborn chin that would challenge a man at every turn and the wariness that peeked out of her midnight-blue eyes. An interesting combination, he thought, intrigued. He’d seen her quick smile, the humor that danced in her eyes…and how quickly she stepped back from that. He would bet there’d been a time in her life when she’d been a lot more spontaneous than she allowed herself to be now. What had happened to change that? When had life taught her to be a more cautious soul? What was her story?

Suddenly realizing where his thoughts had wandered, he swore silently and did some mental backpedaling himself. What the devil was he doing? If she was unusually distracting, it was only because she was so different from the female students he usually dealt with, he reasoned. They were too young and flighty, too eager to fall in love and live happily ever after. There was nothing flighty about the conscientious Ms. Bailey. She had a maturity about her that the rest of her eighteen-year-old classmates lacked, and she had no idea how refreshing that was. How old was she? Thirty? Older? Was she married? Divorced? What had she been doing since high school?

Whatever it was, he sincerely doubted that she’d spent any time in college—otherwise, she would have known it wasn’t necessary for her to write down every word he said. And that could present a problem for her, he realized, frowning. He was a tough teacher—he readily admitted it. His tests were fill-in-the-blank and essays and difficult for students fresh out of high school. Anyone who hadn’t been in school in years would, no doubt, have a difficult time passing his class. If Natalie didn’t want to find herself in trouble, she was really going to have to stay on top of things from day one.

Concerned—in spite of the fact that he demanded a lot of his students, he didn’t enjoy it when they failed—he finished his lecture with an assignment. “Read the first two chapters before Wednesday,” he said as the bell rang. “Oh, and Ms. Bailey, can you stay for a moment? I need to talk to you, if you have a minute.”

He wasn’t surprised when she hesitated. He’d flirted outrageously with her when he’d stopped to change her flat for her. He obviously had some fences to repair.

Silence fell like a stone when the last student filed out of the classroom, leaving the two of them alone. She still stood at her desk, facing him from halfway across the room. “I hope you realize I was only teasing earlier,” he said. “At first I didn’t realize you were one of my students. If I made you uncomfortable, I’m sorry. That certainly wasn’t my intention.”

Heat climbed into her cheeks, but she met his gaze squarely. “You really should have told me who you were.”

He couldn’t argue with that. The second she’d told him she was late for his class, he should have identified himself. And he certainly shouldn’t have asked her out. That was a temporary loss of judgment. Aside from the fact that he didn’t date his students, just last week, he’d sworn he was through with women. Everyone he’d dated in the past six months was looking for a husband, and he wasn’t going there. Not after watching his father walk down the aisle, then into divorce court, more times than he could remember. From what he had seen, marriage only ruined the romance and made people who had once loved each other despise each other. He wanted no part of it.

So why was he so drawn to her? he wondered. He only had to remember the way she’d tried to give him the brush-off when he’d stopped to help her. He’d always liked smart, independent women who could take care of themselves. And even though he knew nothing about her except that she knew how to change a flat—once the lug nuts were out of the way—he didn’t doubt for a moment that Natalie Bailey didn’t need a man to lean on to get through life. That was the only reason he needed to avoid her like the plague.

“You were already upset about being late for class,” he told her, dragging his attention back to the conversation. “I didn’t want to upset you further by telling you who I was. I was afraid you’d be embarrassed.”

That sounded good, but Natalie was the mother of twin boys and she knew a line of bull when she heard one. Her lips threatened to curl into a smile. “That sounds like something my sons would say.”

So she had sons. He grinned. “You’re not buying it, huh?”

“What do you think?”

“Damn. And I thought I was being so clever.” His smile fading, he walked across the room and held out his hand to her. “Let’s start over. I’m Maxwell Sullivan. It’s nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy the class.”

The simple gesture—and the sincerity in his direct blue gaze—charmed her as nothing else could, and the smile that she’d been trying to hold back tugged free. “I’m looking forward to it.”

She placed her hand in his, only to frown in confusion when his fingers closed around hers. There was something so right about the feel of her hand in his. Almost as if he’d touched her a thousand times before, she thought, shaken. But how could that be? She’d never laid eyes on him before today. What was going on?

The thunder of her heartbeat loud in her ears, she eased her hand free and stubbornly, quietly, reminded herself why she was there. “I’ve waited a long time to go to college,” she said huskily. “I just hope I can handle it.”

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he replied. “Don’t take this wrong, but you’re obviously older than the rest of the class. How long has it been since you’ve been in school?”

She wasn’t ashamed of her age. “Eighteen years,” she said with a wry smile. “Better late than never.”

“It’s like riding a bicycle,” he assured her. “You may be a little shaky at first, but it won’t take you long to get back into the swing of things.”

“I’m worried about the term paper,” she admitted. “I don’t even remember how to write a footnote.”

“You’re not alone,” he said. “If you asked the rest of the class, they’d probably say the same thing, and they just graduated from high school last year. Don’t worry—I’ve got a whole list of books that will help you with your paper. I’ll bring it to class on Wednesday. If you need any other help, just let me know. Okay?”

His blue eyes were direct and sincere, and there was no sign of the flirtatious biker who’d asked her out when he’d stopped and changed her flat for her. Relieved, she appreciated his professionalism. But a few minutes later, as she thanked him and turned to leave, she couldn’t forget the way her heart had jumped when his hand had closed around hers.

“Don’t be an idiot,” she muttered to herself as she hurried to her next class. “He’s still a baby. So what if he looks like Lancelot on a motorcycle? Hello? He’s your teacher! And you’ve got enough on your plate with school and the boys and your job—you don’t need a man!”

Deliberately pushing the memory of Max Sullivan’s twinkling eyes from her head, she was determined not to give the man a second thought the rest of the day. Unfortunately, he wasn’t as easily dismissed from her mind. As she headed to her next class, she found herself comparing him to every man she passed on the street. They all came up short.