The Summer Deal (Wildstone #5)(36)

It comforted her that he was just as attracted to her as she was to him. As did the way he was taking things slowly and cautiously, which she knew was for her sake.

His phone beeped, and he looked at it and swore. “I’m sorry, I’ve really gotta go.” He kissed her again, lightly, the appe-tizer on Eli Thomas’s menu, before meeting her gaze. “Have a good day.”

Oh, she would. “You too, Eli.”

When she was alone, she let out a shaky breath. She felt . . . She didn’t even know. She was still standing there, lips tingling, body quivering with an anticipation of something that wasn’t going to happen, when her cell buzzed with an incoming text.

KINSEY: I forgot my lunch box. It’s in the fridge. Bring it to work with you? I’ll swing by and pick it up from your classroom after my 11:00 a.m. meeting.

BRYNN: Please?

KINSEY: Please what?

BRYNN: Please bring the lunch box.

KINSEY: I’m not one of your students, but okay, sure. PLEASE bring my lunch box.

Rolling her eyes, Brynn opened the fridge and pulled out Kinsey’s black lunch box. Because she was completely discombobulated—that kiss!—the lunch box slipped from her fingers, hit the floor, and spilled open.

There was no lunch. But there were meds, lots of them, none pronounceable, all prescribed to one McKinsey Davis.

Brynn scooped them all back inside and worried about it the entire drive to school.

Mornings in her classroom were always a fine balance between teaching and managing behaviors, so naturally there were a lot of various behaviors today, thanks to kids not sleeping for whatever reason, or eating a bowl of pure sugar cereal for breakfast, or maybe just plain being five years old.

All of which meant that Brynn didn’t get a spare second to look up any of Kinsey’s prescriptions until circle time. This twenty minutes before lunch was used for sharing and talking about bad feelings in a healthy way, aided by a talking stick. “Okay, bring it in for circle time,” she called out.

Because this always took them a few minutes, she quickly pulled out her phone and googled a couple of the meds she’d seen. Her heart stopped. They were all related to transplant rejection.

“Ms. Turner! Cindy’s touching me!”

“Ms. Turner! Ethan’s looking at me!”

“Ms. Turner! I have to go potty!”

Brynn let out a breath, her mind racing. Transplant rejection. That was . . . serious. Really serious. Potentially life-threateningly serious. And even though she and Kinsey had been frenemies for years, more actual enemies than friends, Brynn felt . . . heartsick. Because she wouldn’t wish something like this on her worst enemy, and Kinsey wasn’t that. Not even close.

“Ms. Turner, can I go first?”

Brynn shoved her phone away and pasted on a smile as she joined the circle with the kids, bringing the coveted talking stick she’d bought after her first day of teaching. You couldn’t talk without the stick.

The stick was genius.

With it, the kids could—one at a time—talk about their feelings, good or bad, and help each other learn to get along.

Huh. Maybe she should bring the talking stick home with her . . . “Okay, let’s get started,” she said, just as Kinsey popped into the classroom.

“Ms. Davis!” Toby called out. “Sit next to me for circle time!”

Kinsey’s eyes met Brynn’s, and Brynn could see she wanted to refuse, which made Brynn say with perverse amusement, “Yes, Ms. Davis, join us for circle time, where we talk about our bad feelings in a calm, healthy way.”

Kinsey shot her a look that said maybe she shouldn’t close her eyes tonight when she went to sleep, but smiled sweetly at the kids.

Brynn hadn’t even realized she could do that.

Then she very carefully kicked off her pretty nude, strappy high heels and sat on one of the folders she’d been holding, still smiling at the kids like she genuinely loved them.

Brynn handed the stick to Suzie, the student on her right.

Suzie sucked in a deep breath and spit out her words really quickly. “Carly told me that her brother has the same shirt as me and that hurt my feelings.”

“My brother does have that shirt!” Carly said.

“Remember,” Brynn said gently. “We can only talk if we’re holding the stick.”

Carly’s hand shot up in the air for the stick, and Suzie reluctantly passed it to her.

“My brother has that exact same shirt,” Carly repeated. “And I’m going to borrow it after my mom washes it, because my brother gets dirty all the time and I just wanted to know if you’d wear yours the same day so we can be twins.”

Suzie blinked, and then beamed. “Okay!”

Carly handed the stick to Matt, the boy sitting next to her.

“River wouldn’t let me have a turn at the water fountain.”

“Because you wouldn’t let me have a turn yesterday!” River yelled.

“River, you need the stick,” Brynn repeated quietly, having discovered that a quiet voice forced everyone to zip it in order to hear her.

Matt handed River the stick.

“You were mean to me yesterday,” River said. “And you hurt my feelings.”

Matt just crossed his arms.

“Matt,” Brynn said. “Do you want the stick?”