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Kate's Forever (Thistle Do Flowers Book 1) Page 2
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Instead, she asked for permission to grab her purse, and once granted, she marched into the room, eyes focused on the desk that would no longer be hers, and yanked her purse from the hook. Turning, she avoided the students as they watched her leave with questioning expressions, clueless about what was happening.
Flinging the strap over her shoulder, she ignored Mrs. Evans’ final words as she walked in the direction of Mr. Richards’ office. It wasn’t the first time she had to face scrutiny and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last.
He never claimed to be good at the whole relationship thing, but he could promise Kate something more than what she was used to—what that was he wasn’t sure, but from a few of their short conversations about her move to Iowa, he had learned she had been previously married and her divorce hadn’t been pleasant.
Usually, when faced with a ce to be with a previously married woman, he steered clear and avoided the situation completely, but with Kate, he hadn’t known until a couple of weeks ago, and it hadn’t changed the way he felt about her.
Picking up the phone, he dialed the number he had memorized from their first week together. Together. Could he even say that’s what they were? This last week had been confusing and he didn’t know what to do next. She had told him she’d been under a lot of pressure at work. That she wanted to move up the ladder of success and become an elementary teacher as she had always dreamed.
He had decided at the beginning of the week to give her the time and space she may need. He would leave it up to her when she would call him. The last thing he wanted to do was upset her and present himself as a clingy, miserable man who didn’t have anything better to do than keep tabs on a woman he was falling for.
Falling. Yes, he was falling for her. In all of his life, this was the quickest he had let his guard down and had surrendered his heart for the taking. Whether or not they would become a couple would be determined soon enough.
Eyeing the flyer that Paul, one of the employees he hired for extra help, had brought in and left on the counter, Jordan picked it up. Paul had mentioned he could think of two people, without mentioning any names, who might be interested in this event; labeled clearly enough for Jordan to get the message.
It hadn’t been but a few weeks ago that he had taken her to Cupid’s Steakhouse for Valentine’s Day, with no intention of anything more than to celebrate a week’s worth of hell brought on by Jessica’s flowers deciding to opt out on Valentine’s Day at the last minute. Had they not, though, he wouldn’t have been able to show Kate just how wrong her best friend had been about him.
Now, as he held the flyer in his hand, he was willing to lay it all on the line within the next few days in order to ask her to be his other half for Le Claire’s I’ll Still Love You after Valentine’s Day contest.
* * *
She walked down the hallway lined with dull-colored tiles as she made her way to the principal’s office. This was the last thing she had expected to go wrong today. Spilled coffee, tangled hair, and scattered papers were no match to having to fight to keep her job.
Feeling the weight of a thousand worries pressing down on her chest, a rush of anxiety caused her to hold her breath as she approached the heavy oak door for the second time that day. This might be the last time she walked through this door.
“Miss Dixon,” a raspy voice called out to her from the back wall of offices. His was the one in the center, the one Kate had avoided as much as she could. Mr. Richards’ stern look of disappointment caused her anxiety to spike another notch. She would need a brown paper bag before too much longer. Following him into his office, she quickly found a spot to sit as she chose an overly worn, flattened brown chair—one that had once been comfy, but now had nothing but cloth covering its hard edges.
“Do you know why you’re here to see me, Miss Dixon?” His eyes filled with concern as he leaned forward on the desk. Being a kid and called to the principal’s office was one thing, but being a grown adult... This was more than just her job at stake, it was her life... her dreams of one day becoming the kind of teacher she had always wanted to be—kind, nurturing, and full of enthusiasm for each day she could spend with her students.
“Miss Dixon?” he questioned, his eyebrows furrowing to match the tone in his voice. She assumed fear was written all over her face, especially since he avoided eye contact. The pit of her stomach ached as the thought of losing her job overwhelmed her. “Mrs. Evans has asked me to provide you some slack, because, well, we’ve all been in love and have tripped over ourselves a time or two.”
“I’m... I...” She struggled to find the right words. “I’m not sure I understand what my personal life has to do with this. I...”
“Miss Kate,” he said her name as many of the kids did on a daily basis. The only difference was the tone in his voice, irritation with the situation evident. “I’m going to ask you to take some time off. Until the beginning of the next school year.”
“But, I...”
Holding up a finger to interrupt her, he said, “When you return, you will no longer be working for Mrs. Evans. I will have you assigned a new room upon your first day back.”
“I honestly don’t know what this is truly about, or...” she stammered over each and every word as her mind raced.
“Kate, please know that this wasn’t an easy decision to make,” he said, as if his words could ease the panic she felt as her mind raced and her lungs overinflated and deflated heavily with each breath. “Please understand that we enjoy having you here at Le Claire Elementary. We have agreed that letting you have some time off is the best thing for you right now.”
As if he refused to allow her to plead her case, or even give her a valid explanation for making her take time off, he offered her a sheet of paper and asked her to sign on the bottom line, acknowledging that she had read and agreed to take unpaid leave from Le Claire Elementary and shall return to work no sooner than August of this year.
With a shaky hand, she signed and dated the page. Without a word, she collected her things from the chair next to her and walked away from the only thing she had going for her in Le Claire.
It was going to be a long time to be away from the school. There were a ton of things she was sure she would find to do around her house, and around town, but she would be lost doing those things while thinking of the students she had left behind. She wasn’t sure if Mrs. Evans would tell them exactly why Miss Dixon wouldn’t be in class anymore, or if she would even acknowledge their confusion with so much as a sympathetic understanding. Heck, it would be hard for someone to understand why Kate was no longer there, when she had no idea herself. She wondered if Mrs. Evans even realized how much those kids loved having her there, assisting them with their homework, encouraging them to continue even when they wanted to give up.
A sudden urge to call Jordan forced her to search through her purse for her phone once she parked her car in the driveway of her faded blue house. One thing she decided she could possibly do, if the weather cooperated this week, would include scraping and repainting her poor, old, neglected house.
Without even realizing she had already dialed his number, she heard his voice on the other end of the line. Bringing the phone up to her ear, she said, “Hi.”
“Kate?” She could hear the nervousness in his voice. Had he been expecting her to call? “What are you doing?”
Sighing, maybe just at the sound of his voice, she leaned her head against the cool glass of her driver’s side window and looked at her house. “Well, right now I’m sitting in my car in my driveway.”
Hesitation was present in the silence before he asked, “Do you have the day off? I thought you worked...”
“They let me go.”
Saying it didn’t make her feel any better. To be honest, she felt worse knowing she had failed and now everyone would know. “They what? How could they? What fo...”
“They gave me the rest of the year off,” she said, cutting him off before he could ask any more questi
ons. “The teacher I work with decided that I wasn’t focused enough. That these last few weeks I have been too distracted and not fully present in the classroom.”
“Well, if that isn’t a load of horse shit,” he blurted. “Sorry, I usually don’t...”
“No worries,” she said, chuckling at his remark. “You actually said what I’ve been thinking since I signed my name on that paper.”
“I can’t believe it, Kate. Of all the people they should be letting go,” he said, a sense of irritation in his voice. “What are you going to do while you’re off?”
Looking back at her house at the faded, chipped paint along the window panes, she said, “It’s funny you ask me that, because just a while ago I had no idea what I was going to do, but now that I’ve been sitting here, I have a whole list of things I have been wanting to get done around here.”
She had a running list of at least ten things that had been fighting for her attention over the last month or so. As heartbreaking as her time off would be, and as much as she would miss her kiddos, she found solace in the fact she would have plenty of time to complete her unfinished projects and possibly spend more time with Jordan.
“What do you say we get lunch today?” he asked, as if he could read her thoughts over the phone.
“I think that sounds like the perfect start to my time off.”
* * *
He wasn’t a pro as far as dating was concerned. In all honesty, he was the typical late thirties bachelor who had everything going for him, but nothing to really show for it.
Once, he had given his heart to someone he thought to be the one, only to find it returned to him with a debt from divorce and half of his belongings. That hell was more than two years ago; and no matter how many of his friends got after him and tried to convince him it was time to move on, he just couldn’t afford to go through it again.
Or, that was until Kate Dixon. He was too manly to believe in the whole “fate brought us together” mumbo jumbo, but he did believe that she was proof that his friends had been right—it was time to move on and make the life for himself that he had worked so hard for.
Meeting her at the small café on the corner, not too far from Thistle Do, had been her idea, and he hadn’t changed her mind when he’d insisted otherwise. Even though she ignored his offer, he enjoyed her sense of independence and stubbornness. She knew what she wanted and that was that. He only hoped that he would be included somewhere in the mix of things she wanted.
Checking the rearview mirror, he caught himself chuckling at how crazy his thoughts had sounded. The fact they were just friends hadn’t distracted his thoughts, but the tap on his driver’s side window sure did.
Clearing his throat and running a hand through his hair before offering her a smile that he was sure looked cheesy as all get out, he pulled the handle, and with a creak from the rusted hinge, the door opened and he stepped out.
Now distracted by her presence—beach waves streaming through her light brown hair and her eyes the perfect shade of blue—he stood speechless, with nothing to offer but an innocent smirk that would surly give his thoughts away.
“How long have you been standing there?” he asked, patting the back pocket of his jeans to make sure he had grabbed his wallet.
“Long enough to see you checking yourself out,” she said, the teasing smile she gave him brightened her eyes.
Holding the door for her, he shook his head and said, “I wasn’t checking myself out. Only girls do that.”
* * *
Walking around him as he held the door for her, she couldn’t help but smile. She was lucky to know him. He was a good guy, regardless of how competitive he had been prior to meeting her. Besides, a little friendly competition was good sometimes, whether Jessica believed so or not.
“For the record, not all girls are glued to a mirror,” she said, making a point to his comment on their way into this cozy corner café. This place had become her favorite since she had moved here. Their home cooked food was to die for, and there was no doubt she could eat here day in and day out.
The crease in his forehead made him that much more good-looking. Allowing him to take her coat and hang it on a nearby hook, she slid into the booth and waited for him to take the spot across from her.
“Have you tried their twice baked potatoes?” he asked, the grin on his face revealed his intention of changing the subject.
Their first date... it had been a date, hadn’t it? They had both ordered twice baked potatoes. It was cute that he remembered that small detail. Baked potatoes were her favorite.
“Yes, they are to die for,” she said, reaching for the menu that was tucked against the wall between the napkin holder and the condiments. “This place has the best food.”
“Can I get you two something to drink?” the older waitress questioned.
“Sure, that’d be great,” Kate said, motioning for Jordan to go ahead with his drink. She was curious as to what he would be drinking, relieved when he said something other than beer. Not that beer was a bad thing—not at all. The fact that her ex-husband had been a full blown, aggressive alcoholic had a huge impact on her unease with it, though.
“Kate?”
“Oh, sorry,” she apologized, feigning a smile to ward off the awkwardness of spacing out. “I’ll take a Pepsi, please.”
“Everything okay?”
The look of concern full in his eyes as he waited for her to respond told her that she might have more to work on when it came to forgetting the past in order to move forward with her life. It was easier said than done. Moving to Le Claire had only been the first step.
“Yes, I’m sorry,” she apologized once again. “It’s been a long week and it’s only Monday.”
Whether he believed her or not was lost in his nod as he looked over his menu. Distracting herself with the menu in front of her, she silently cursed herself for allowing the past to have that kind of effect on her. Had Jordan ordered ten beers, it wouldn’t have bothered her, but leave it to...
“Here’re your drinks,” the waitress said, sliding the glasses full of Pepsi and ice in front of them. Bubbles fizzed and popped as the waitress grabbed the notebook from the pocket of her apron. “Have you decided what you’ll be having?”
If she had to be honest, she hadn’t spent much time picking out what to order. Skimming over the choices, she quickly decided. With Jordan’s go ahead, she said, “I’ll have a loaded baked potato, easy on the sour cream. And can I get a salad, also?”
“You sure can,” the waitress said, scribbling on the pad in her hand. “What kind of dressing would you like?”
“French, please.”
“You got it. What about you, Mr. Hughes?”
Smirking in response to Kate’s raised eyebrow, he ordered his usual choice of steak and twice baked potato. Only when the waitress left their side, he asked, “What was that look for?”
Tapping her thumbs on the rim of her glass, she glanced up to meet the questioning look focused on her. “What?”
“You tell me.”
“Ha, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” She was amused with his reaction to the look she had given him.
“You know exactly what I’m talking about, Kate Dixon,” he said, chuckling as he slid a straw into his drink.
“Nope, no clue.”
“Huh, that’s funny. I could’ve sworn I saw a raised eyebrow,” he said, keeping his eyes on her as he took a drink. In response to her shrugged shoulders, he said, “I’m one of their regulars here.”
Dropping her mouth open at his confession, she pointed a finger at him and laughed. “You’re such a liar!”
“I prefer to be called a fibber or a jokester,” he said, all serious, with a tone to match.
Her laugh cracked a smile on his face. “Okay, Mr. Jokester,” she mimicked. “If you’re a regular, then why have I never seen you in here?”
“You weren’t looking for me,” he said, and as much as he meant it as a response to
the banter between them, he had called it how it was—she hadn’t been looking for him—he’d been here the whole time. Some would call it fate, but she called it something else.
He could only hope their dinner left plenty of room for dessert, because he wasn’t ready for their lunch date to be over. He was enjoying her company as much as she seemed to enjoy his.
“I’m so full,” had been her answer to their waitress, but the look the waitress gave him told him that she knew he wasn’t ready to be done.
“Have you tried our apple pie?” the waitress asked, giving a side wink to Jordan. He had no choice but to chuckle in response to Kate’s reaction. Had she been that worried about her diet that a slice of pie would be so detrimental? If so, she had no reason to worry. Hell, he never understood why women cared so damned much about calories and all that ruckus. What ever happened to just being happy and enjoying life?
“Ours is the best in town,” the waitress insisted, knowing full well she was persuading Kate just enough to change her mind. “Add a scoop of vanilla on top and there you’d have it! The perfect dessert!”
Her laugh was like music to his ears. He loved hearing it and he would do whatever it took to hear it over and over again. There was no reason for her not to laugh. She was too light-hearted and high-spirited to be stressed and overthinking about her job at the school.
“Okay,” she said, holding up her hands in a truce. “I’ll have a tiny piece. No bigger than a sliver,” she added, pointing a warned, teasing finger at their waitress.
In unison, he and the waitress said, “Yes!”
Winking at Jordan, the waitress turned and walked off with a spring in her step. He knew he was busted as soon as he felt her eyes on him. Piercing... questionable innocence... with a side of playful accusation.