shrieked.
‘Professor Ross!’ Her heart raced a mile a minute. She hadn’t heard the professor come in. She’d probably been too busy crying.
Professor Ross was leaning against the door to the restroom. She held Skyler’s backpack in her hand. A small frown crinkled her brow. Other than that she was the picture of calm. Skyler had always admired her. She was sexy and classy and funny and she always had a nice word for her students.
So many times she’d watched in awe as the professor had made complex chemical ideas sound fun and interesting. Skyler considered her a mentor and role model. Right now, though, she was the last person Skyler wanted to see.
‘Skyler, sugar,’ she drawled the way she did in that light Southern twang that made her sound like the classiest phone sex operator out there. ‘You wanna tell me what’s going on?’
‘Professor. No disrespect –’ Skyler held up a hand as if to ward the professor off ‘– but, no I don’t.’
‘Are you pregnant?’
Skyler didn’t deny it, but she didn’t feign outrage either. She was too damn tired.
‘Professor, that’s really none of your business.’
‘Skyler, I just want to help. Please talk to me.’
More tears welled in Skyler’s eyes and she could feel her lips wobble, but she wasn’t going to cry now. Her tears wouldn’t solve anything.
‘You can’t help me, Professor. No one can.’
Squaring her shoulders, Skyler walked to Professor Ross and held out her hand for her backpack. The professor hesitated; concern shone out of her green eyes, but she ultimately gave Skyler the pack and moved aside.
Skyler felt like a true shit for her attitude, but what could Professor Ross do for her? He was her boss, after all.
Bridget watched Skyler retreat down the hallway. She moved like she had the world on her shoulders. If the girl was pregnant, this wouldn’t be the first time it had happened to one of her students. She only hoped whoever had knocked her up would step up and be responsible. She had a very bad feeling, however, that this “unchangeable appointment” was an abortion.
Not that Bridget was passing judgment. It was between each person’s conscience and God whether they took that route or not, but the risks were so high if Skyler didn’t take care of this the right way.
After all, she should know. Unconsciously, Bridget rested a hand on her lower abdomen. Yes, she should definitely know.
Chapter Six
She wasn’t coming. Connor checked his watch for what had to be the fifth time. It was 1.15 p.m. and Bridget didn’t strike him as someone who was anything other than punctual. She carried herself with the charm and class of a true Southern belle. With her sexy drawl and sensitivity, she was all gentility and refinement, but he sensed something in her. An eroticism that she seemed to keep under lock and key. That mystery, that enigmatic quality had kept her in the forefront of his thoughts ever since their coffee date. Hell, it had kept her the main star in all his fantasies as well.
He hadn’t been so intrigued by a woman in a very long time. He liked that she was older too. Not that he was a baby, or she even that old. But he was 28 and, while she’d not admitted her actual age to him, he was guessing late 30s from some of the cultural references she’d dropped about growing up. The 80s was definitely her era.
Maybe it was growing up the way he had with his grandparents. They were in their late 70s when he’d gone to live with them. Maybe it was having to assume the role of caretaker when he was so young, but he’d never really fit with the girls in his age range. He was too serious. He wasn’t enough fun.
Well, it was damned hard to be “fun” when you had to worry about Gran falling and breaking a hip while you were at school because she was too damn stubborn to ask for help. How could you not be “serious” when you had to rush home every day and make sure your grandfather was taking his medication as prescribed before going to your after-school job at the drugstore because from the age of 14 you’d been helping make ends meet.
His grandparents had loved him. So had his parents. Connor could honestly say he’d never been without love growing up. But when his grandpa had come down with lung cancer, the brunt of the responsibility had fallen to Connor. His grandmother simply hadn’t been capable since senility had already burrowed in like a tick. Her moments of lucidity were too few and far between for her to be a reliable caretaker. So, Connor had done the only thing he could. He’d become a man at 14. He’d stepped in and filled the void as best he could.
Then, he’d buried them both when he was 16.
His chest clenched even now in grief. He’d loved them as much as they’d loved him. When his parents had died, they’d welcomed him with open arms. They’d kept his parents’ memories alive and had encouraged him to be whatever he wanted to be. Some days, he wondered if they’d be disappointed with how he’d turned out.
He had a small sum of money put away; the little bit that was left after selling his grandparents’ house. It was the only thing of value they had to leave him, but he hadn’t wanted to go back there. After his two year stint in the foster system, he’d just wanted to get the hell away from Maryland. The neighbourhood the house was in had gone downhill and he’d had enough of depressing, rundown neighbourhoods. He’d sold everything, banked the money, and made his way north before finally settling in Vermont.
The decision to stay in River Rock had been a complete fluke. He’d landed in town because a photographer he admired was having a show and giving a lecture at the university and he’d wanted to sit in on it. It had been the height of spring when the foliage was new and the flowers were in bloom. After leaving the bus station, he’d walked for a bit to stretch his legs and had come to the main street. It had endeared him immediately to the town. Appearing straight out of a storybook with its simulated gas lamps, and flower boxes, it had vintage-style shops owned by real people not corporate giants. He’d been captivated.
The university had sealed the deal, though. When he’d walked the quad to get to the lecture, he’d barely been able to go two steps without finding something to capture his imagination. He almost missed the lecture because he’d been so caught up drawing and taking photos.
Simple as that, he’d decided to stay. Fortunately for him, the custodial position had been available and he’d found a place to live within a week of landing in town. That had been five years ago and he’d never regretted it.
Another glance at his watch said it was now 1.20. It was time to throw in the towel. If she thought he hadn’t been serious about his threat to haunt all her known spots until he ran into her, she’d been mistaken. He was determined to get to know Ms Bridget Ross and he sensed she wanted to get to know him too. She was blocking him for some reason and he wanted to know why.
With a deep sigh, he reached for his pack to throw on his shoulder. He would go in and see if Mona had a use for any of the food he’d packed.
‘That’s a real deep frown you’re sportin’, sugar.’ Bridget’s caramel-coated voice broke into his thoughts. ‘Aren’t you happy to see me?’
His head snapped up and a grin broke out across his face.
‘I didn’t think you were coming,’ he replied.
She looked amazing. He didn’t know how she did it, but she made even the conservative button-down sleeveless shirt and cropped pants she wore look like the sexiest clothing on the planet. The deep green of the shirt set off her eyes and hair and the simple khaki capris hugged her full hips and displayed her delicate ankles in a way that made them erotic to him. Her sandals were strappy and showed off perfectly pedicured toes. She looked delicious.
‘I almost didn’t,’ she replied seriously, then she put her hands on her hips and gave him an exasperated look before saying, ‘but I couldn’t take a chance you were serious about haunting my every move. So, I’m here. But listen up, buddy boy, you better not be some kind of crazed stalker. I’m trained in martial arts and I will kick your ass. Just because I’m small, doesn’t mean I can’t be effective.’
