Desert Moon (The Wolves of Twin Moon Ranch Book 1) (17 page)

Now he was inches away. Big, broad—but not too much of either. Just right. The nick in one ear was the only part of him that wasn’t perfect. She caught his scent, and it was an ocean breeze gone walkabout in the desert.

She gave herself an inner slap. No, no, no! Men were not to be trusted. Not ever again.

Not even this one?
a small voice in her cried.

Especially not this one!
came the slamming reply.

“Cody, get the bat!” the kids urged. “Get it! Get it!” Pandemonium once again.

A second voice boomed into the doorway, deep and gravelly. “What the hell is going on here?”

Without thinking, Heather wheeled, slammed her hands onto her hips, and shot out a reply. “Watch your language! This is a school!” For a moment, she felt like her old self—in command, not only of the students but herself. The Heather from before the nightmare.

When the second man stepped in, the air pressure in the room immediately rose, as if a storm system were squeezing itself through the doorway. Scampering feet pounded the wooden floorboards as kids rushed back to their seats and stood stiffly at attention. She could swear everyone was holding their breath—including the bat.

The man’s piercing eyes glowed with anger. The old Heather might have stood her ground, but the Heather she’d become wavered and took a step back. She might have melted onto the floor, mortified, if Cody hadn’t stepped between them, practically growling.

Her shoulders slumped. Oh God, the second man was the ranch boss. She would lose her job. She would be thrown out. She would—

“Don’t mind my brother,” Cody said softly. That tenor was magic, sending a warm, secure rush her way. Heather straightened slightly and looked from Cody to the other one. Ty, that was his name. Were they really brothers? One was a thundercloud; the other, pure sunshine. As opposite as opposites can be.

Before she knew it, Ty whisked the towel out of her hands and stepped toward the bat. He must have fixed it with that laser of a gaze because the bat submitted without so much as lifting a wing. When Ty scooped it up and stepped outside, moving quickly down the flagstone path, the whole room exhaled.

Heather leaned against the wall, suddenly drained. “Five minute break, kids.” They broke into gleeful cries and ran out to the playground, leaving Heather and Cody alone.

“My brother does have a soft spot, you know.” Cody grinned. “It comes out every second year or so.”

Definitely opposites, those two. She’d take this one in an instant and worship him like the sun.

His eyes were studying the blackboard, reading the words. “My dream home?” He grinned like Huck Finn, but all grown up. Very grown up.

She would bet anything he’d been like Timmy as a kid. Sweet, energetic, mischievous. And now, sweet, studly, and mischievous. She’d give anything to make like Becky and hide herself against that chest.

Heather cleared her throat. “Geometry. They have to find shapes in the house, and then draw their own dream homes.”

“And this one is yours?” He nodded to the board.

The U-shaped ranch she’d been kidding herself about for years? She shrugged the notion away. “Nah. Just an example.”

He chuckled. “Right.”

God, that smile could make her forget everything. Like the fact that she’d sworn off men. Like the fact that she had eleven rambunctious kids to supervise instead of standing there, letting goose bumps tickle her skin.

Like the fact that the last man she’d let this close nearly killed her.

But with those gold-brown eyes caressing hers, she just might forget.

“Cody!” Ty growled from outside, breaking whatever spell had wafted in with the wind.

“Gotta go,” Cody sighed. He stood looking at her for a long, mournful minute—a kid watching the ice cream truck pull away before he got a scoop. “Gotta go,” he repeated, eyes sliding shut. Seemed to Heather he’d aimed that whisper at himself.

And then he was gone, leaving the room emptier than it had ever felt before.

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