Playing the Hand You're Dealt by Trice Hickman

Author:Trice Hickman [Hickman, Trice]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9780758294111
Amazon: 0758269080
Publisher: Dafina
Published: 2014-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 17

Emily . . .

Dangerously Sexy and Bold

It was naptime, and the kids were resting peacefully on their mats. This was the only quiet time I had during the course of my workday, so I usually tried to make the most of it. I charted out lesson plans, graded papers, and caught up on the e-mails I received from parents, other faculty, and staff. But today I did none of those things. I spent my quiet time daydreaming about Ed. I hadn’t been able to get him off my mind since he showed up here yesterday afternoon.

We met in one of the small conference rooms that was rarely used. I made sure that I arrived early because I knew I’d need the extra time to gather my thoughts. I was determined not to make any slips and vowed that I would keep my composure. I was going to control my emotions and mask my wanting. I even practiced what I was going to say to him. But the brilliant pep talk I’d given myself had been useless because when Ed walked into the room I lost all train of thought.

Discreetly, I admired his polished navy suit, crisp white shirt, and pewter gray tie. His broad shoulders were impressive and perfectly squared, allowing his jacket to drape him as though he was born in it. Ed’s sense of style was impeccable, and his aura was dangerously sexy and bold. I wanted and loved everything about him. And although I knew I shouldn’t have, I allowed myself to relish in the wonderful scent of his Bulgari cologne as he settled into the chair beside me.

Ever since those intense moments we shared last weekend during my move, I knew we were inching closer toward the feelings that had been simmering for years. But I was still hesitant to embrace it because there was so much at stake. It was ironic that our happiness would ultimately result in someone else’s pain, or as Ruben had foretold, something deadly.

After I told Ed the real reason for my call, I was almost sorry I shared it with him. Thank goodness I opted not to use Ruben’s name because Ed lumped my story about people with the gift, and Ruben’s premonition, into the category of nut jobs similar to the con artists on late-night infomercials. He didn’t think much of the whole idea, and at one point it crossed my mind that he might once again suggest the name of a good therapist I could visit.

Nonetheless, I was glad I got it off my chest. I passed my test and was ready to leave the room, but Ed flipped things around, shifting the dynamics and the mood. He scooted his chair close to mine, leaned over, and started questioning me about why I wanted to warn him in particular. My motive was obvious and there was no denying my feelings.

“Those I love,” I had said. I gave myself away when I let those three little words slip from my tongue, and there was no secret tunnel that could lead me out of where I had gone.

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