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- Author: Deborah Pin
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was melting into his strength again, turning into a mushy pathetic woman. “Let me walk you out.”
She nodded and they walked from the room together. “Can I ask
about Seth’s mother?”
He turned to her as they strolled slowly down the now deserted
hallway. She thought perhaps she’d overstepped a boundary that time but she suspected he was too busy worrying about his own boundaries
to judge too much.
“She died when Seth was six months old. Car accident.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be. I mean, thank you, but it was a long time ago. I feel bad for
Seth more than anything. He never knew his mom and that’s a bit
heartbreaking for me to stomach on his account, but in truth he doesn’t
miss her because he never knew her.”
“What about you? Do you miss her?”
He thought for a moment as they walked and then he stopped and
turned to her. “Not really. Don’t get me wrong, I did for a long time but
—it was just so long ago at this point. I guess I miss what we had but because it was so long ago and my life has changed so much since it’s hard to connect with the life I had then. I’m not sure that makes sense.”
“What was she like?” Talk about overstepping boundaries but he
humored her interest.
“She was great. She was beautiful, kind, honest and moral. She was everything I wanted. I thought we’d be together for the rest of our lives.
Her name was Shannon. We met our first year of college, married our junior year and she was pregnant before we’d even graduated.”
They were taking a damn long time walking at a snail’s pace through
the hallways. “What about you? You’ve never been married?”
She shook her head slowly as he studied her. “Nope. Not even close.
Nothing even remotely interesting in that category.” He smirked.
“What are you doing this evening?” Going on a date with you. She wished.
“Teaching. I have a creative writing class I teach downtown on
Wednesday nights.”
He tensed beside her for a moment. “And you drive yourself?”
“Of course. There’s a parking garage attached to the building. Why?”
“I should probably check it out. Can I meet you there later on at the
end of your class?”
“Sure.” She was more than happy to see him later in the evening, even if she wasn’t entirely sure why he suddenly seemed so concerned. It
was a busy building, it was a busy town. She actually felt safer there than
her quiet little home at the moment.
“Oh, I don’t talk cases with Seth, if you were curious. In fact, I don’t
talk cases with anyone not related to my job.” He eyed her for a moment
as they approached the door. “So…Seth thinks I’m getting a progress update from his favorite teacher. Beneficial for a couple reasons. Keeps him on his toes and lets me chat with you without him being the wiser.”
She chuckled as he held the door open for her. “Such a dishonest thing to do to your son.”
“Yeah? Well, I expect you to play along.”
“If it makes you feel any better, he’s doing well. He’s a great student
and he seems to be doing well with the reading group too. He’s
participating a lot and that’s a good sign.”
“Glad to hear it. See how productive we can be together when you’re
not hating me for being late and I’m not hating you for being rude to me?” His shit-eating grin had her smiling before she could remember she
had nothing to smile about.
Katrina gave him the building address and room number of her class
that evening as they walked toward the parking lot where his SUV was
pulled up in the loading zone.
“If you have a crush on my teacher, Dad, I’m going to puke.” Seth was hollering out the window, very intentionally trying to embarrass his
father and given the rather flushed look on Dillon’s face, he’d managed it
beautifully. Naturally it left Katrina’s cheeks burning too.
“Sorry about that,” he muttered.
“It’s okay. I already know you have a crush on me.” It popped out, as
such comments often did, before she could stop herself. She sauntered away from him before he could say anything further and before he could
see the furiously burning red of her cheeks. She forced herself to keep her
eyes forward. It was a small victory for the sake of her humiliation and
she reveled in it even as the embarrassment coursed through her veins.
She’d had few victories recently and she deserved that one.
* * * * *
He snuck into her classroom toward the end of the evening, taking a
quick seat in the back row. It was an adult education class and there were
fewer than fifteen students there. Stephens was trolling the hallways at the moment, checking out the building security but Dillon was more interested in the students—very specifically the ones in her classroom.
He watched them. Most hadn’t even noticed him entering, though
Katrina most definitely did. She was speaking, something about the
importance of dialogue in fiction writing—but her cheeks were the most
incredible shade of pink. He was making her nervous and he was
enjoying that fact after the comment she left him with in the parking lot
earlier.
She’d nailed him. He did have a crush on her but she failed to see just
how inappropriate it was. It wasn’t something he could let get away from him—no matter how much he might want to. But he’d be damned
if he could stop fucking thinking about her. This had never been a struggle before and he couldn’t quite figure out why she was testing him
so much.
He’d worked with plenty of attractive witnesses and had never been
so tempted, as he was every time he was with her. And she apparently
knew it. He was obviously doing a shit job of hiding his desire from her
and he knew he had to get a handle on how he responded to her or she
was going to continue to push his buttons—however subtly she might choose to do so. But he didn’t relish the thought. In fact it was torturous
to even think of.
He watched her as she walked casually in front of the class. About a
third of the class were men and he let his focus travel to each and every
one of them. He watched exactly how they regarded her. He couldn’t see
their entire faces but from his position he could see an angle of their profiles and he watched. One ignored her completely and was far too focused on his iPhone than what she was doing. He was sunk back in his
seat casually with his legs sprawled out before him. Other than wanting
to kick his feet and pull him up by the collar for his obvious lack of respect for Katrina, Dillon certainly didn’t see him as a threat to her.
The second one he watched for only a moment. He was at least in his
sixties and while he couldn’t rule the man out on that fact alone, his demeanor was far too fatherly when he watched her. There was no
hunger in his eyes at all—nothing at all like he felt in his own desire to
watch her. Desire was desire regardless and he was looking for it. It might be coupled with contempt or malice or it might be puppy drunk love that made the lunatic look more like a buffoon than a threat to her
but the desire had to be there.
The third man he focused on for a long time. He kept his chin down
but Dillon could see the man’s eyes following her wherever she
happened to walk. Of course her students were expected to pay attention
to her but he didn’t like the look on this guy’s face or the way he refused
to pull his chin up. It was as if his body language was trying to hide himself in some way but his eyes couldn’t seem to stop following her.
Dillon dismissed the fourth and final man in her class quickly. The man was obviously gay and there was simply no reason to watch him further. Dillon’s eyes returned to man number three and he studied.
There were about fifteen minutes left of the class and he was hoping she
wouldn’t release them early. He wanted the time to focus on this man’s
body language and how he regarded Katrina. But by the time the fifteen
minutes were up, he was no closer to getting a handle on the man.
Dillon stretched his legs out crossing his ankles under the desk in front of him as the students started collecting their belongings and heading out the door. The women all regarded him curiously or tried to
flirt with him with their eyes. He ignored them all, keeping his focus on man number three. The man stood quietly, pulled his jacket on quickly and tucked his chin down to his chest. He said nothing to any of the other students and stalked with his head down from the room. Dillon wasn’t sure what to make of the man but he intended to do some
digging.
Katrina approached him, sitting in the desk in front of him and which
his legs were stretched out under. She faced him, pulling one of her legs
up and leaving the other in the aisle. “Brushing up on your creative writing skills?” She was just too good at making him smile.
“Busted. Tell me about the guy who was sitting toward the back of the group, early- to mid-thirties, dark hair, likes to stare at you.” He was sounding more jealous than suspicious. Dillon raised his hands up to rest
on the back of his head as he watched her and waited for a response.
“Josh? He’s harmless.” He hated it when women made such
statements. He especially hated hearing Katrina make that statement. It meant she was naive about her predicament, and moreover her safety.
He had no doubt she was worried about it but the fact she could make
such a statement so offhandedly was concerning.
His heart raced for a moment as she studied his eyes. He was too worried about her and he cared entirely too much about what happened
to her. It wasn’t a good combination for a cop and it was exactly why he
wasn’t allowed to like her, want her, think about her, fantasize about her,
imagine what it would be like to have her, own her, fuck her. She was off
limits for a reason. But even as he reaffirmed that in his mind, he imagined what she would look like stretched out on the desktop in front
of him—arched back with her legs parted on either side of his body, exposing every last inch of her pussy.
She finally got tired of waiting for him to respond as he got lost simply watching her, fantasizing about her, hell worrying about her.
“Are you okay?” Her voice was suddenly small and her eyes were
suddenly regarding him far too intimately.
He nodded for a moment but he stopped. “Actually no. I don’t like how that man was looking at you. And I don’t like that you so easily dismissed my questioning about him.”
He pulled his legs out from under the desk she was sitting on and he
leaned toward her. “I’m here to do a job, Katrina, and that’s to figure out who attacked you and by extension of that keep you safe.” He was speaking rather harshly and he could see the shock on her face but she needed to understand. “I need your cooperation, I need you to stow your
nerves and embarrassment around me and I don’t need you making
comments about my being attracted to you because none of that really matters, does it?”
She shook her head subtly as her eyes shifted away from him.
“Sorry.” She started gnawing on her lower lip and guilt swiftly punched
him in the gut but she just had to understand.
“There is no doubt in my mind that your safety is in jeopardy and I
need to know you get that— really get that.” She nodded. “What’s the student’s name?”
Her eyes finally found his again but she looked stunned and hurt—
and he was dying just a bit inside to see it.
“Josh Grant. I’ll find an address for you.” It was his turn to shut up and nod and he did, holding
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