Hissy Fit (The Southern Gentleman #1)(37)

“Hey,” she said huskily. “You want something to eat or drink?”

Was it bad to say that I wanted her to eat?

“You make any coffee yet?” I asked, coming up to stand with a hand at both hips.

She nodded.

“That and a cup of ice water,” I said. “And I need some trash bags, too. The trash cans are full, and we’re going to have to start stuffing these sticks into something else.”

She turned and hurried back inside, and I swallowed as I got a load of her shorts.

They were so short that she might as well be wearing only underwear.

And they were so tight that I knew for a fact that she likely didn’t have anything on underneath of them.

“Hey, Coach!”

I turned and saw one of my first period students, Mark Simpleton, standing there with his dog on a leash.

I raised a hand. “Hey, Mark. How are you?”

He grinned. “A lot better than you, it looks like.”

He took a look around the yard. “Mackie struck again.”

“What?” I asked, heart starting to thunder in my chest.

“Uhhh,” he paused. “You…Mackie…shit.”

I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him my best teacher stare.

“Talk,” I ordered.

Mark’s shoulders drooped. “Everyone knows Mackie does this to people that piss him off.”

My brows lifted. “I didn’t.”

“It’s all over the school. It’s not a secret. Just listen.”

With that, he rushed away, the poor little dog with his too-short legs barely keeping up.

I felt anger stir in my belly at hearing that and wished I wasn’t the ‘cool’ teacher. What Mark just said wouldn’t have slipped out if it’d been Raleigh he’d been talking to. It was hard because I had to be careful of what I shared since the students treated me as one of them, which served my purposes most of the time.

However, now I needed to listen to word around the student body when it came to Mackie, and I didn’t want to throw any of the students under the bus when I had to eventually confront the little fucker.

It’d been a long time coming but something needed to be done about that kid.

It didn’t matter how good of a player he was. The little shit needed to learn that his behavior wasn’t acceptable.

“Ezra?”

I turned to see Raleigh standing there, a cup of coffee in one hand, and a glass of water with two trash bags stuffed in the other.

I stalked toward her, my need for her starting to curl in my gut.

This woman was too good for words.

How had I never noticed her before this year?

I felt like an utter fool.

Reaching her, I took the coffee, and then leaned forward and took her mouth.

“Whew!” I heard exclaimed from behind us.

I broke the kiss and turned only my head to glare at the person over my shoulder. Another student—this one a girl.

I rolled my eyes. “Good morning, Ms. Chance.”

Layla Chance waved her hands, her best friend Mindy Kreed next to her. “Hello, Ms. Crusie. Coach McDuff!”

I turned back around and looked down at Raleigh.

“What the hell? I’ve already seen three students this morning,” I muttered, looking down at her.

Raleigh’s cheeks were flushed with pleasure. “This is a popular walking area since we’re so close to the trail, plus it’s a family neighborhood. I think half the student population lives in this neighborhood with their parents. You’ll see a lot more before the morning is over.”

She was not lying.

I saw nearly the entire freakin’ school, and I had a teeny-weeny inkling that the only reason I saw as many as I did was because I was shirtless working on Raleigh’s lawn.

The only reason I saw the females, anyway. The male student population was around because the student female population was.

Grinning, I got back to work. At least until the cry of Mother Nature came calling.

I knocked on Raleigh’s door where she’d disappeared about an hour ago and waited for her to appear. She did about a minute later, covered head to toe in flour and what looked like chocolate.

I grinned as she pushed open her screen door with one elbow.

“Uhh,” I teased. “You look a little rough.”

She blew some of her hair out of her eyes, but it fell right back into place.

She sighed.

I helped her out by tucking it behind her ear.

“I gotta use the bathroom, then I’ll finish,” I said.

“I’ll change so I can help,” she murmured softly, waving her hand at her clothes in explanation.

I grinned at her attire.

She had on another pair of tight jeans, these even tighter than the ones that she had on yesterday. She was also wearing a pair of worn-in cowboy boots that were definitely not something that you worked in. Not with those pointy-assed toes and sparkly pink glitter decorative tassels.

“Don’t change on my account,” I said. “But the toilet paper is almost out, I just have the stuff at the top to get. Then we can start on the back…if you have time and something to feed me with.”

She grinned. “I just made fried chicken and mashed potatoes, but they have to cook in the oven for a few minutes. That’s my mama’s secret to the ultimate crispiness on the breading. Once that’s done, we can eat, and then I’ll help you.”