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  Griffin pulled on the helmet. Kate gave Tommy a long look that said, We’re so not done here, and moved in closer to Griffin. “Thanks,” she said quietly. “For bringing him back. He gets distracted and wanders off.”

  “He’s like you,” he said.

  She let out a low laugh. “He’s a seven-year-old boy. He avoids soap like the plague, watches The Avengers on repeat, and sometimes forgets underwear.” She paused. “I almost always use soap.”

  “He’ll eventually get into being clean, but as for The Avengers and occasionally going commando, he’s right on the mark.”

  At the thought of Griffin being commando under his jeans, she got a little hot. Okay, a lot hot.

  He gave her a slow, trouble-filled smile. “He told me that when a male honeybee mates, its testicles explode and the penis is left inside the queen bee.”

  She gave out a half laugh, half groan. “Okay, so he’s a little like me. But to be clear, penis is his favorite word, not mine.”

  “Penis is every boy’s favorite word.” He paused. “Also, I’m eternally grateful not to be a bee.” He tugged playfully on a stray strand of hair that had escaped its confines and was in her face. “And also, you smell much nicer than he does.” And with that, he got back on the motorcycle and rode off.

  Seven

  They got back to school in time for lunch with no further problems. Normally Kate took her lunch break with a friend. At least once a week she ate with Holly. Other days she met up with Lilah, Jade, or the new vet, Olivia, when their breaks lined up. Olivia and Kate shared a love of cooking, so they always did a recipe exchange. Other days, Kate stayed at school and ate with Ryan in his office, but today she ran through the cafeteria quickly.

  “Hey, honey,” Glenna the lunch lady said in her no-nonsense voice. “What’ll it be?”

  “The Griffin,” Kate said, and then clamped a hand over her mouth. The Griffin? Good Lord, even the thought of a Griffin sandwich gave her a hot flash. “The Reuben! I meant the Reuben!”

  Glenna cackled. “I’d take a Griffin sandwich.”

  The afternoon went downhill from there. Mikey and Tasha got sick in the classroom—Mikey managed to do it right on Kate’s favorite Toms knockoff boots. Then, two minutes before she had to line the class up for play rehearsal, Tommy vanished again. But this time she knew it wasn’t a bird.

  It was the play.

  She found him hiding in the closet reading on his e-reader. Relief weakened her knees, and her heart clutched hard at the sight of him. Despite her best efforts, he was skinny as a stick, and his clothes were always just a little too big. Today, like most days, his hair stuck up in tufts, due to his aversion to a brush or comb. And damn, she loved him. She turned back to her class. “If anyone moves from their seat in the next three minutes, we’re going to skip recess.”

  This brought a chorus of promises that no one would move a single inch. Right. Hoping her threat had been enough, Kate crawled into the closet with Tommy. “Hey.”

  “Hey.” He hadn’t stopped reading, so she reached out and turned off the e-reader. Finally, he looked at her.

  “You know they’re not going to stay in their seats,” he said. “Recess or not.”

  “Then we’ll have to make this quick, won’t we?” She stroked his hair, trying to tame it. Impossible. “You know it’s just a rehearsal, right? There’s no actual audience yet.”

  “I don’t want to be in the play.”

  Every kid had a part, and his was as a tree. “You don’t have any lines,” she said.

  “I have to do a stupid tree dance. And it’s stupid.”

  “Everyone’s dancing, Tommy. Not just you.”

  Tommy stared at his dark e-reader screen as if he could still make out the words. “Everyone’s mom is supposed to make their costume.”

  Kate’s chest went tight. “You know I’ll make your costume,” she said softly. Fiercely. “You’ll be the best tree that ever danced.”

  He lifted a scrawny shoulder.

  She took in his slightly bowed head and averted eyes, and she knew there was more. “What?”

  He shrugged again, and Kate’s heart broke a little more. “How about I have Mrs. Garcia put you on the very back edge of the stage, okay? And then, after school, we’ll make pancakes.” She had no business promising pancakes. Holly’s rehearsal dinner was tonight, and as maid of honor, she had a bazillion and one things to do.

  “Offstage,” Tommy said, negotiating. Clearly, he’d been watching Pawn Stars with her dad again. “And chocolate-chip pancakes.”

  “Onstage.” She sighed. “But yeah, I’ll cave on the chocolate-chip pancakes.”

  They shook on the deal.

  * * *

  Griffin walked down the hallway of the elementary school experiencing an odd sense of déjà vu. It had been a whole hell of a lot of years since he’d walked these halls, and mostly back then he’d either been running like hell during an escape or sitting on a bench outside the principal’s office.

  He had no idea why he was here now.

  Except he did. He’d promised Tommy he’d come by for a brownie. And maybe a small part of him wanted to see Kate in her element. He stopped in the doorway to her classroom and took in the scene. She was sitting cross-legged on the floor with the kids, reading to them.

  She’d taken off her sweater. Her demure, librarian-approved blouse, skirt, tights, and boots shouldn’t have made him hot. The blouse had a little stand-up collar and a row of teeny-tiny buttons down the front. A nightmare to get into in a hurry. Nope, that shirt was made for the slow reveal, and it was really amazing how sexy it was when paired with the reading glasses perched on her nose and the way her hair was twisted in a knot at the base of her neck.

  She was every guy’s secret teacher-jack-off fantasy. She’d been his just last night.

  She was laughing and so were the kids as she picked up a book, opened it to a page, and said a word. She pointed at someone to spell the word, which correlated to the picture on the page of the big book she was holding.

  Spelling had been torture for Grif. Sheer torture. He’d have done anything to get out of it—and often had. Frogs in his pockets let loose at the right moment. Spilling whatever he could get his hands on to garner him an excuse to go to the restroom. Whatever he could think of, he attempted to pull off.

  But here no one was attempting escape.

  He suspected the reason for the kids’ rapt attention was the exact same reason he moved to get closer.

  Kate.

  She had a way of glowing, of looking so happy to be talking to you, of spreading smiles . . . It was like she was a drug. She met his gaze then, and something came into her smile.

  A wariness.

  Smart girl.

  Tommy turned to see who Kate was looking at. He beamed and scooted over to make some room in the circle for Griffin. A few other parents came in as well, and the kids’ circle widened again. It was an ongoing thing, he realized, Kate expanding her circle to accept everyone.

  When spelling was over and Kate had excused the kids back to their desks, each of which had a brownie on it, Grif started to head toward the front of the classroom, but Tommy ran over to him. “Griffin!”

  “Hey, kid.”

  “Hey!” Tommy handed over the flannel shirt. “I wore it all day,” he said proudly, smiling his gap-toothed smile. “Well, except when I painted. I didn’t wanna spill.”

  Which, given the splotches of green and blue paint smeared on Tommy’s cheek, had been a good call.

  Tommy held out his right hand for the same fist bump they’d exchanged earlier. Then he held out his left and handed Grif a brownie that was only slightly squished. “I saved this one for you.” With one last grin, he turned and ran directly into Dustin.

  “Hey, ’tard,” Dustin said. “Watch where you’re going.”

  Tommy looked down at the chocolate smeared on his hand and licked his palm.

  Grif opened his mouth to say something to the rude pun