Chapter Three

Zara

My hands won't stop shaking.

Is that normal when you've had the shock of your life?

I guess it might be.

I'd been enjoying my walk, too. I'd gone down to the creek for a while, although it wasn't my first visit. That was the day after I moved here. I wanted to explore… and find excuses not to unpack. Nothing changes, you see? Anyway, I didn't feel like retracing my steps along the creek tonight, so after I'd stared at the sparkling water for a while, trying to forget about tomorrow, and growing up, I made my way back along Main Street, gazing into the store-fronts, and daydreaming.

I was wondering about re-arranging the furniture in the living room of my tiny home, when I paused by the bookstore. I'd noticed it during the weekend I first came here, but it didn't have such an incredible window display back then. To be honest, I can't remember exactly what was in the window on that day, but it wasn't anywhere near as arresting as the sight of that school teacher made entirely of books. Okay, so the face was painted onto a piece of card or paper, but the rest of the body was built from stacks of children's books, a lot of which I recognized, just from their spines.

I was admiring it, wondering how long it must have taken to create, when that man suddenly barged into me, and the next thing I knew, I was on my ass on the sidewalk.

For a second or two, I was so shocked, I didn't know what to do, or say, but then I looked up at him, and even though I thought I'd been winded by the fall, that was nothing compared to what happened when I set eyes on him.

My stomach did something really strange then. It was similar to how I felt when I first saw the cover of Rake's Ranch but multiplied by about a million, entwined with that feeling you get when you're nervous about something, with a sense of excitement and wonder all mixed in. I wasn't sure what that was about, but as I gazed up into his sky-blue eyes, I felt a whisper of heat down my spine. He held out his hand, lifting me to my feet as though I weighed nothing, while I studied his square, lightly stubbled jaw, his mop of light blond hair and generous lips. He was kindness itself, as well as handsome, with a perfect athletic body, beneath his dark blue jeans and pale gray t-shirt.

He told me his name then.

He's called Tanner.

It's a nice name. It has a strength to it, like its owner, who also revealed that he lives here, in Hart's Creek. I smiled at him, relieved that I might get the chance to see him again, although my lips were gabbling about moving and unpacking, which reminded me I should go home, rather than taking up any more of his time.

I made my excuses, and as I was stepping away, he said, "Maybe I'll see you around?" in a way that sounded like he wanted to, and I had to be honest and say, "I hope so," in reply, although I was too embarrassed to hang around any longer.

I walked away then, but just before I got to the corner of Main Street, I turned back.

Tanner was still standing there, right where I'd left him, and there was something about him that made me flip around and walk backwards, raising my hand to wave. He waved back, and I swear to God, my heart stopped beating.

At least, it felt that way. It can't have done in reality because I completed my walk home, letting myself in.

Since then, though, I haven't been able to focus on anything other than the memory of Tanner's adorable face, his piercing blue eyes and his gorgeous body.

I certainly couldn't care less about the unpacking, and despite my shaking hands, I pour myself a glass of water and head for the bathroom. I usually prefer to shower, but I think a bath might help me relax after what just happened, and while it's running, I wander into the bedroom and undress. There are still a couple of boxes in here, containing bed linen and towels, and I shake my head, wondering if I'll ever get everything done, before going back to the bathroom, and climbing into the bath, shutting off the water and settling beneath the rose-scented bubbles.

Tanner…

Like I say, the name suits him, but I wonder where he lives and what he does… and why my body feels so strange. It's like a numb tingling coursing through me, coupled with a fevered excitement that I can't seem to control.

There's no doubt it's Tanner who's having this effect, because I've never felt this way before. But how can that be? I know nothing about him, except that he lives in Hart's Creek and is older than me.

How do I know that? The lines around his eyes gave it away. Like his name, they suited him, though, and I liked them.

I liked everything about him, from the tousled look of his blond hair to the way his t-shirt stretched so snugly across his chest… and the depth of his voice. It whispered across my skin like a gentle breeze, making me shiver. In a good way.

I'm shivering now… but that's because the water's getting cold, and rather than heat it up again, I climb out of the bath, wrapping myself in a fluffy pale pink towel. It matches my bathrobe, and once I'm sufficiently dry, I pull that on and make my way out to the living room.

The boxes are still there, making me all too aware of their presence, but my need for food is more important, and I raid the refrigerator, finding some chicken, peppers, carrots and broccoli. A stir-fry will be quick and easy, and once I've chopped all the ingredients and heated my wok, it takes no time to cook. I add some soy sauce and honey right at the end, then serve it into a bowl, leaving enough to take to work tomorrow for lunch.

I feel like lounging on my couch while I eat, but that's not an option when it's buried beneath boxes of books, so I settle at the dining table, switching on the TV and finding a movie to keep me occupied.

I've come in half-way through, I think, and while I could go back to the beginning, it's not really my thing. I'm not a great adventure movie fan, so I turn down the sound, my mind flipping instinctively to Tanner instead.

I've never met anyone quiet like him. Not that I've really ‘met' him as such. He knocked me to the ground – unintentionally – and we've exchanged a few words. That's hardly a meeting. But it felt like there was something between us. At least, it did to me.

Maybe that's my inexperience talking.

Who knows?

He suggested he'd see me around, and I wonder if there's any way I can contrive a meeting and maybe hope he takes the initiative?

I'm not sure how, when I know nothing about him, but it's gotta be worth some thought.

I smile, finishing my meal, and put my bowl in the dishwasher before I shut out the lights, wandering through to the bedroom, ignoring the boxes of books I leave in my wake.

They're a problem for another day, and I climb into bed, naked as ever, but don't pull up the covers. My skin feels unusually sensitive tonight, and I reach for my book, opening it at the page marked with my favorite bookmark, before I nestle back against the pillows. This is another cowboy romance and is the tenth novel in the series that started with Rake's Ranch. I hadn't realized it was going to be a series when I bought that first book, but once the second one came out, I bought that too… and the third, and the fourth…

Unfortunately, this one is proving to be a little predictable, but I'm enjoying it because I like the female character. She's feisty, with a hint of humor, bordering on sass, which suits the style of the book. It's about a woman who's inherited her father's farm, and is trying to make a go of it. Everything seems to be against her, from the weather to her neighbor, who's a tall, dark, handsome ranch owner, desperate not just to take over her farm, but to take her to his bed. I can already tell that she'll win the day where the farm is concerned, but that he'll conquer her sexually… otherwise, why would the author be building so much tension between them?

Speaking of which, I can't seem to settle.

It's not the book, though. It's me.

I feel a little tense myself, and I know why. Despite my earlier orgasm, I want more. And I've got something real to think about now…

I keep wondering what it would feel like to have Tanner's generous lips on mine… to have his long fingers touching me, as he whispered words of love in that deep, melodious voice of his.

"Oh, God…"

I put down my book, my body aching, and I let my hands wander, tweaking at my erect nipples, roaming across my flat stomach before I part my legs. I like to keep myself shaved, and have done, ever since I read about it in one of my many books. The characters maintained it made everything feel more intense, and although I've never noticed that for myself, it's been a couple of years since I first tried it, and I can't imagine being any other way now.

I spread my legs a little further, shifting up the bed to get comfortable before I circle my finger over my clit, gasping at how different everything feels. I guess that's because I've got someone real in my head. He's not a cowboy landowner, or even a millionaire playboy, or a ruthless CEO. I don't really know what he is, except that he's making my body tingle with need as I imagine him raising himself above me, a look of longing in his eyes as he leans down to kiss me.

"Oh yes, Tanner…" I whisper the words, feeling a quiver deep inside me. That feels promising, and I part my legs even wider, raising them up, my fingers moving faster and faster. My body seems to respond to the reality of having Tanner in my head, my nipples so hard they hurt. They've always been particularly sensitive, although it usually takes a little pinch or tweak to get any kind of result. Tonight, though, just one touch is enough to make me squeal.

"Please, Tanner… please love me. Please love me, like I love you," I cry, between moans of satisfaction as I tip over the edge, my body trembling…

There's still no starlight, still nothing earth-shattering, but as I drift back to normality, I have to say, that was a lot better than anything I've ever done before, and I smile as I think about that, and about Tanner, and the words I cried.

And that I meant every single one of them.

My alarm wakes me and I turn over onto my back, stretching my arms and legs beneath the covers of my empty bed.

It's never like this in books, is it? In books, the heroine wakes up aching in all the right places, alongside the man of her dreams, or at least with the memories of a night of passion to keep her going until the next time…

The next time?

I'd need there to be a first time, before I could consider a next time.

I turn over, wishing I'd slept better. That's mostly because I'd have liked the chance to dream of Tanner and our newfound love. Not that it's ‘our' newfound love at all. It's mine… and it's stupid and unrealistic to imagine that love at first sight exists anywhere outside my imagination, or the pages of a romance novel.

I'm beginning to think I should start reading something different… but in the meantime, I've got a busy day ahead of me, and with that in mind, I throw back the covers and get up, my stomach churning now the reality of my first day at school is dawning.

Sure, I've trained for this, but I've never been responsible for a classroom full of students before.

I make quick work of showering, then step out, wrapping myself in a towel before walking over to the basin and opening the mirrored cabinet above it. I keep my birth control pills in here and I swallow one down. The irony isn't lost on me that there's never been anyone who needs birth control less than I do, but they help regulate my heavy periods, and have done since I was sixteen.

Once I've brushed my teeth, I come back to the bedroom, where I stand in front of the closet, wishing I'd taken the time to choose my clothes last night instead of fantasizing about Tanner. My body shudders at the thought of him, but I need to concentrate on other things, and I rummage through a few outfits, dismissing the idea of jeans straight away. They might be comfortable, but they're not appropriate.

I need something sensible and smart, but comfortable, and I glance through my things, shaking my head.

I should have worked this out before…

Not only is time moving on, but I'm getting hot now, and I pull away the towel, letting it fall to the floor before I grab a couple of skirts, two pairs of pants and a few blouses, throwing them all onto my unmade bed.

Pants seem more sensible, and I select the black ones, hoping I won't regret that, bearing in mind the grubby fingers they're bound to encounter during the day. It already feels quite warm to me, so a short-sleeved blouse seems like a good idea, and I nudge aside the cream-colored one, in favor of the white one with a frilled collar. It's fitted, but goes well with the black pants, and I push everything else to the other side of the bed, deciding I'll put it all away again later… maybe once I've chosen what to wear tomorrow.

With at least one decision made, I dry my hair, wasting ten minutes trying to work out whether to wear it in a ponytail, or loose around my shoulders before I decide on a half-up, half-down version, so it looks long, but is off of my face.

I debate makeup for a few minutes, then apply just a little, and finally, I get dressed.

Once I'm ready, having found a pair of flat pumps I know are comfortable, I realize I don't have time for breakfast. Not that I can face it, anyway. A cup of coffee is about all my stomach can manage, but just to be on the safe side, I grab my travel mug, smiling as I admire it. It's decorated with flowers and butterflies on the outside, and I only bought it last week, knowing it might come in useful. The coffee seems to take forever to filter through, and while it does, I pick up my purse, checking inside to make sure I've got my keys and wallet, and then add my phone. I put the lid on my coffee the moment it's finished, and glance around the house, rolling my eyes at the boxes before I run out the front door.

I have a car, but it's not worth driving the short distance to the elementary school, which is in Mulberry Lane, just across the other side of Main Street. While I'm walking, I sip on my coffee, my mind flitting between thoughts of the day ahead, and memories of last night… especially Tanner's sparkling blue eyes. Because even if love at first sight isn't a ‘thing' in real life, I can't help how I feel about him.

The teachers' lounge is the first door on the left, opposite the reception desk, and I let myself in, surprised I'm only the third to arrive. The other two women are deep in conversation over by the window and rather than interrupt them and admit I can't remember their names, I go to my locker and dump my purse, then wander to the coffee machine and top up my cup. I don't want to sit around looking bored, so I grab the file marked ‘Kindergarten' from the table in the middle of the room, and sit down in one of several old-fashioned looking armchairs around the edge.

As the two women continue to whisper, I read through the list of pupils in my class, hoping to familiarize myself with their names, even if their faces are still a mystery to me.

One of them stands out in particular. It's Addison Hanson, and I smile, recalling the conversation I had with the principal on the second day of the workshop last week.

Miss Montgomery took me to one side while the others were all having lunch and explained that Hanson isn't really Addison's last name.

"Oh?" I said, surprised that she'd volunteered the information.

"Her real name is Bradshaw," she said, with an air of disapproval, which she carried well. While pleasant enough, I've already learned that Miss Montgomery has her standards, and likes them to be maintained at all times. It's obvious from the manner in which she dresses, the immaculate styling of her hair, and the way she looks at people over the top of her half-moon glasses.

At the time, I wasn't sure about the reason for the change in her tone, and to be honest, as far as I was concerned, ‘Hanson' was Addison's name. Being given another was only likely to confuse me, and didn't seem at all helpful.

"Her father died at the beginning of the year," she continued, filling the silence I'd left. "He was involved in a terrible car accident."

I guessed that made a little more sense. If Addison was likely to be upset by her father's death, then it was important I should understand, and be able to help her.

"I see. Have there been problems?"

"Not with Addison, no," she said, shaking her head. "She's obviously new to the school, but as far as I'm aware, she's adapted very well."

"So is Hanson her mother's maiden name?" I asked, trying to make sense of things.

"No. It's the sheriff's name."

I took a half step back, unable to help myself. "The sheriff?"

"Yes," she said, and moved a little closer so she could lower her voice. "He and Addison's mother are engaged to be married."

That surprised me, given that Addison's father had only died quite recently, and I guess my response must have been obvious to Miss Montgomery, who folded her arms across her meager chest.

"As long as Addison's okay with it," I said, because it was the only thing that came into my mind.

"She seems to be. Sheriff Hanson and Mrs. Bradshaw came to see me a few weeks ago and explained that the sheriff is in the process of adopting Addison. The papers haven't come through yet, but they wanted to ask if she could be known here by her new name, not her old one, to avoid any confusion."

"That's understandable," I said, nodding my head, although I stopped when Miss Montgomery shook hers.

"Maybe it is to someone of your age. Personally, I thought it was highly irregular."

"But you agreed?"

"I did… for Addison's sake. I could see the upheaval it would cause for her to have her name changed halfway through the semester, so it made more sense to go along with their wishes."

Her attitude may have sounded like something out of the last century – or the one before that – but I was pleased she was putting the child's needs ahead of her own prejudices, and I smiled, which seemed to confuse her enough that she walked away and left me to my own devices.

In a way, I was pleased to have been kept informed, but it makes no difference to me what Addison Hanson is called. After all, I didn't know Addison's father, and as long as his daughter is happy, she can be called whatever she likes.