Only You (Adair Family #5)(33)

The kids’ excited chatter had died down at Brodan’s arrival, and I met Lewis’s gaze now.

“Can I go over to say hello, Ms. Sinclair?” he asked quietly.

“You may.” I gestured toward the Hollywood star without looking at him.

Lewis grinned and shot to his feet. My gaze reluctantly followed him as he hurried over to Brodan. My chest squeezed as Brodan’s entire face lit up at the sight of his nephew. He pulled Lewis into his side for a hug, bending his head to ask him something I couldn’t hear. Lewis craned his head back, grinning up at his uncle as he nodded and replied. Whatever it was made Brodan chuckle and bend down to press a kiss to the top of Lewis’s head. So easily affectionate. He was the same when we were kids—always taking my hand, hugging me, kissing my temple.

Bringing me to orgasm in the castle turret.

My cheeks flushed at the inappropriate memory, and thankfully, the kids distracted me. Their chatter rose with their growing impatience, so I hushed them as Ellen and David strolled over with Brodan and Lewis at their backs. To my horror, I noted the way Lewis’s eyes locked on me, and he tugged on his uncle’s hand, drawing him toward me.

The memory of Brodan ignoring me in William’s flashed through my mind, and I forced myself not to wince. My anger resurged.

“Uncle Brodan, this is my teacher, Ms. Sinclair,” Lewis introduced us as they drew to a stop beside me.

Harnessing all my professionalism, I nodded at Brodan, whose eyes rested anywhere but on me. “Hello, Mr. Adair.”

A muscle flexed in his jaw as he gave me a chin lift in greeting and turned away, drawing Lewis with him.

“Everyone, we’d like to introduce you to our director, Mr. Brodan Adair. Say hello to Mr. Adair.” Ellen beamed from ear to ear. Honestly, I’d never seen her so happy.

“Hello, Mr. Adair!” the children chorused.

Brodan grinned. “Hi, everyone.”

“My mum fancies you,” a boy from Ellen’s class called out. “She told my dad she’d dump him for you if you asked.”

David covered a snort with a cough while Brodan tried not to laugh. Ellen, however, scowled at her pupil. “None of that, Max Kristofferson.” She glanced at Brodan and noted his hands resting on Lewis’s shoulders. “Lewis, return to your seat, please.”

A few seconds later, everyone but the adults were seated, and the children were quietly waiting for direction. Ellen hurried over to the chair where she’d placed the pile of scripts and brought them over to hand out.

“Mr. White plays the piano, so we’re fortunate that we don’t need to wait for the music teacher to join us to rehearse the musical numbers. I thought we could start there,” Ellen offered.

Brodan nodded, but I noted his frown.

“Perhaps,” I offered quietly, “we could choose parts today. See which of the children would like a main part and audition them.”

He didn’t look at me. Instead, he said, as if I hadn’t spoken a word, “I think it would be better if we chose the children’s parts today.” He smiled at the kids. “Raise your hands if you’d like a lead role in the musical.”

Both Ellen and David frowned, their gazes bouncing between me and Brodan.

Several hands shot up, including Lewis’s.

We asked the kids who wanted a lead role to stand up and over to the side. I reluctantly stepped toward Brodan and my colleagues. “We should probably start with the roles of Dorothy, the Wicked Witch, the Tin Man, the Lion, and the Scarecrow.”

Brodan tensed beside me and perused the newly condensed script like I hadn’t spoken.

Ellen’s brows drew together as she noted my lips pinch in frustration and embarrassment. She cleared her throat. “Yes, perhaps we should ask those wishing to play Dorothy to read and sing first?”

Brodan nodded. “Excellent idea.”

I couldn’t meet my colleagues’ gazes.

As David sat down at the piano and Brodan made the children laugh to relax them a bit, Ellen sidled up to me. “Pen mentioned you two have history,” she murmured under her breath.

Pen was a P3 teacher who had been in Lachlan Adair’s class at school. She was also a gossip.

“It’s nothing.”

Ellen sighed heavily. “I’m thinking it’s something. If there’s animosity between you two, you should have said something. This could be a terrible idea.”

“No. The kids love him.” I gestured across the room where he had them laughing at who knows what. “You help him audition the kids. I’ll keep the others quiet.” And stay far, far out of the immature bastard’s way.





BRODAN





* * *



I knew I was being an immature arsehole.

But every time Monroe got near enough for me to smell her perfume, I wanted to bare my teeth like a savage animal. It didn’t matter if she was an inch from me or thirty feet away. I could feel her in the room. Every bloody second.

I’d spotted her as soon as I strolled into the gym.

She wore a dark green dress with long sleeves and a high neck. The hem came to just above her knees to reveal dark tights on her short but great fucking legs. The green made her hair look like copper as it spilled down her back in natural waves.

None of my primary school teachers had looked like Monroe Sinclair. Christ, she was thirty-seven and still looked like she’d barely graduated from uni. I knew women in my line of work who would kill for Monroe’s perpetual youth. Looking at her made holding back the memories difficult, so I’d stopped.