Welcome to Forever (4 page)

Ben scrunched his face.

“All right. Fine. If you don't want pizza—”

“I do,” his son protested, slurring his words the way he did when his muscles were tired. And there was that lopsided smile.

Micah turned the Jeep Cherokee into the parking lot for Kirk's Pizza House. It was the only pizza joint in Seaside, and the place was packed. A hostess showed them to the last table in the back and Micah followed, as Ben carefully maneuvered his chair down the narrow aisles.

When they were seated, Ben seemed to shrink in his chair. “You have something to tell me.” It wasn't a question. “Otherwise, we'd be having boring chicken and green beans. That's what you laid out this morning,” he said.

Damn, my kid is smart.

Micah licked his lips, stalling like the old Mustang he'd had when he was sixteen. “Maybe I didn't want boring chicken and beans tonight,” he said, silently thanking God when the waitress interrupted, bringing them glasses of water and breadsticks. He wasn't ready to talk about Jessica yet. Couldn't they just enjoy their night for a while before his ex squashed it with her proverbial combat boots? “So, tell me about your day.”

Ben blew a breath toward a lock of dark hair falling in his honey-colored eyes. He'd inherited those from his mother. His left arm was too stiff to swipe the hair away, and his right arm—the strong one—was locked on a breadstick, slowly submerging it in pizza sauce. “We had a rally.”

Micah grabbed his own breadstick. “A pep rally?”

“Yeah.” Talking while he chewed, his son's muddled words were even harder to understand. “Principal Chandler added a new subject to our curriculum. It's called Good Deeds. We'll be emailing the wounded soldiers at Camp Leon and writing letters to people in nursing homes. She's also changing after-school detention to something called the Friendship Club. If you get in trouble, you have to stay after school and work on the campus doing recycling and making new friends.”

Micah didn't know what kind of friends were to be made in detention, but before he could think too much on it, the waitress was back to take their orders. He ordered a large pizza, half with just spinach for him and half with ham and sausage for Ben. His little man was a meat lover, and tonight he deserved whatever he wanted. “A club for misbehaving kids, huh?” he asked, recapping the conversation. Breaking his own rule, he reached for a second breadstick, promising himself that he'd run an extra mile in PT tomorrow. “That would've been nice last year, huh? A mean kid club.”

Ben stopped dipping his bread for a second, and Micah immediately regretted bringing up the bullies.

“Friendship Club,” Ben corrected quietly, his voice so low that Micah had to guess at what he'd actually said. “And the kids in the club have to do nice things for everyone.”

“Even the girls?” Micah soured his face in a weak attempt to make his son laugh.

Ben glanced up, not even cracking a smile. “Dad, I'm in third grade now. I'm allowed to like girls.”

“You are?” This was news to him.

“And I was thinking…” The tone of his voice, more confident now with a hint of wanting, made Micah's heart beat in an
uh-oh
rhythm.

“You should start liking girls again, too.” His son swiped at his hair, staring at him expectantly across the table. “I won't get in the way anymore. I promise.”

“In the way? Anymore?” Micah leaned forward. What was Ben talking about?

“Like with Nicole.” Ben's gaze fell on the table.

Micah groaned at just the mention of the name. He'd only dated Nicole a couple weeks. “You know that wasn't you, right? She just wasn't right for me. Wasn't right for us.”

“But I think I know who is right for you—I mean us.” Ben looked up, eyes wide like they got when he was about to ask for a too-expensive toy or an extra serving of dessert.

Suddenly, Micah was rethinking taking his son out for pizza. The night was quickly turning into a discussion about his love life. Or lack thereof. “Who?”

“Principal Chandler.”

Kat's succulent green eyes came to mind. And the sparkling diamond on her left hand.

Clearing his throat, he leaned back and scratched the side of his jaw. He was stalling again, looking for the right response to his son's suggestion. “And what makes you think we'd be a good match?”

“Because she also likes spinach on her pizza.”

Micah furrowed his brow and followed Ben's gaze to a table across the room, where Kat was eating alone.

As if sensing people watching her, she looked up from a stack of papers on the table and a slow smile formed. Tonight, she wore her corn silk hair down, letting it cascade around her shoulders.

Micah forgot to chew the last bite of his breadstick and started to choke. After plowing a quick fist into his chest to get the food down, he looked back across the room.

She had a concerned tilt to her eyebrows that relaxed as her gaze moved to Ben, who was happily waving her over with his right arm.

“Ben, she looks like she's working,” Micah said. And he wasn't prepared to share space with a woman who looked like that.

“People don't work at dinner, Dad,” Ben said, a
duh
unfolding in his voice that made Micah all too aware that puberty wasn't far around the corner. Ben waved at her again.

Shifting in her seat, she looked around at the other patrons. Then, she slowly got up and began walking in their direction.

The sight of her made his heart, and other places, rev. No more stalling in this Mustang. Those curves were lethal and that face was one he could look at for a very long time.

He didn't blink.

Good thing for that ring on her finger, because looking at the beautiful woman now, he thought she might be a good match for him, too. She was still Ben's principal, though, and kind of his boss, so getting involved with Kat Chandler was completely out of the question.

Kat smiled warmly at the DILF, as Val had so crudely labeled him.

She flinched inwardly. Had she just thought of one of her student's fathers as a dad she'd like to…? That was not in good principal form.

“Hey, Kat,” he said as she approached.

Just the sound of his voice made her breath grow shallow. She'd already stood for a solid second at their table without saying a single word.
Say something,
her brain demanded. “Hey, you two. Looks like we had the same idea for dinner tonight.”

Ben nodded, the motion not quite rhythmic. “We never have pizza on a weeknight. It means I'm in trouble.”

Micah's dark eyebrows jumped at the claim. “No, it doesn't. Maybe I just want to enjoy my son.” He looked at her again, melting all her bones. “Looks like you're alone,” he observed.

“My friend canceled. Which is just as well. I have work to do.” She glanced back at the papers on her table. Work that would be smeared with pizza sauce before it was all said and done.

“You can join us if you want,” Ben said.

She started shaking her head to argue. “No. That's okay. It looks like you're having family time.” And her hormones were currently begging her to rip his father's clothing off. What was wrong with her these days?
Get a grip, girl.

“
Pleeease
join us, Principal Chandler. That'd be so cool.” Ben's eyes were large and hopeful as he looked at her.

At his age, the school principal was still a superhero. And she had to admit, she kind of liked being a superhero.

“Dad, tell her we don't mind,” Ben said, looking at Micah.

Micah hesitated, and then lifted his eyes to meet her gaze. “We, uh, don't mind.”

She read his body language loud and clear, though—he minded. But disappointing such an adorable third grader had to be a sin, she thought, turning back to Ben. “Well, if you're sure.”

“You can sit right there beside my dad.” Ben pointed at the narrow seat.

If she sat there, she'd barely have elbow room. She would be rubbing up against the handsome father that, yes, she was very attracted to despite her earnest wish that she wasn't. Even though he'd been considerably nicer toward her at their last meeting, he was still a parent—one whose trust she was working hard to earn.

“Please. Join us,” Micah urged, surprising her and leaving her with very little choice.

“Okay then. I'll just go grab my pizza and put my papers away.”

Ben cheered as she walked back to her table.

Why on earth had she just said yes? It was bad enough that she'd practically drooled over Micah's tightly molded muscles as he'd lifted his glass just then. Checking out a student's father crossed some ethical line in the principal handbook, didn't it? She'd just have to spend the dinner focusing on Ben, which wouldn't be too hard. With his adorable glasses and limitless curiosity, he was already leading the pack for her favorite student this year. Not that she had favorites.

She placed her pizza on the table beside theirs and Micah slid over an inch, gesturing for her to sit beside him.

“See?” Ben pointed at the spinach pizza. “That side of the pizza is my dad's. He likes spinach just like you.”

She nodded. “Your dad has good taste.”

Ben's smile stretched impossibly wider. Then he peppered her with questions as they ate. What was her favorite color?—green. What was her favorite food?—chips and salsa.

“Which war is your favorite?” he asked.

“War?” Kat glanced at Micah. Until now, he'd been quiet during her interrogation by his son.

“Ben has a special interest in history. Wars specifically,” Micah told her. Sitting this close as he spoke to her felt intimate. Meeting his eyes with only a few inches between them felt too close for comfort, but not nearly close enough if she consulted her woman parts.

Kat nodded slowly, directing her gaze and thoughts forward as she searched for an answer. “I guess I prefer peace over war.”

Ben awkwardly angled his head to bite from his pizza. When he was done chewing, he smiled at her. “That was a slack answer, Principal Chandler.”

“Ben,” Micah reprimanded. “That wasn't nice.”

“But that's what you always yell at the TV when someone dodges the question on CNN, Dad.”

Kat couldn't help laughing. It felt good to laugh. That's why she'd wanted to meet Val here tonight. “It's okay. Ben's right. It was a slack answer. Hmm.” She tore off a piece of her pizza and popped it into her mouth. War had stolen her fiancé. She swallowed the thickening lump rising in her throat. She couldn't think about the past, at least not now. “I'll have to get back to you on that, Ben. Is that a better answer?”

With a shrug, he immediately asked her another question, as if he had a Rolodex in his little mind.

“So, let me guess. You're going to be a reporter when you grow up?” she teased, sharing another look with Micah. The momentary meeting of their eyes sent fiery embers through her blood. He reached for the Parmesan cheese on the table and his arm brushed against hers. It should've been awkward, but she found herself mentally willing him to reach for something else just so that she could feel his skin on hers. Squirming, she looked at Ben, whose characteristic smile had faded.

“Reporters don't have wheelchairs, Principal Chandler,” he said.

The lump in her throat was back. She set her pizza down and leaned in closer to him, making sure he paid attention. “Reporters come in all shapes and sizes. I'm sure there are some with wheelchairs.”

He shook his head, his hair falling in his face. “I've looked. There aren't.”

“Well, let me tell you something. At one time, women didn't become principals, either. There's a first for everything. If you have a dream, you follow it.”

A little spark lit in Ben's eyes. “That's what Dad says, too. Right, Dad?”

“That's right, buddy.”

Kat turned to look at him, surprised at the small smile that quirked on his usually straight lips. If possible, he was even sexier when he smiled.

“His favorite color is green, too. Fatigue green,” Ben said.

“Fatigue green?” she asked, looking across the table.

“Like the Marines wear,” Ben said.

“Ah.” She reached for her glass of water, enjoying Ben's quick, excited speech. It wasn't often she got to sit with one of her students and really get to know them.

“And his favorite food is Mexican, so you guys are pretty close on that one, too.”

Raising a brow, she looked at Micah.

He massaged his hands over his face, then glanced at her. “Ben thinks we'd make good, uh, friends.”

She straightened, looking between them. “Oh.”

“More than friends, Dad.” Ben turned to Kat. “His last girlfriend dumped him because of me.”

Micah shot Ben another look that seemed to go unnoticed as he rattled on.

“Nicole didn't like my disability,” he continued.

Kat frowned. “Well, that's not very nice.”

“So my dad's lonely because of me.”

“I'm not lonely. I have you, buddy, and that's all I need. Besides, Principal Chandler has a ring.” He pointed at her finger. “See that, Ben? It means some lucky guy got to her before you did.”

Ben focused on the diamond, his lips puckered in obvious disapproval. Finally, his dark eyes met hers. “That's fake.”

“Ben!” Micah leaned across the table and poked his son gently. “Apologize to Principal Chandler right now. That's a very nice, very
real
ring.”

She felt like the kid who'd been caught in a lie, standing at the principal's desk with a million and one excuses running through her head. To tell the truth or keep holding on to the lie? Only she hadn't lied. She'd never said she was engaged. Her only guilt was the fact that the man who'd given her the ring could no longer make good on his promise. “What makes you say my ring is fake, Ben?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “ 'Cause you look lonely like my dad. If the ring was real, you wouldn't look that way.”

She rolled her lips together. Her friends telling her so was one thing, but when a kid could see through her, that was a problem.

“Change the subject, buddy,” Micah warned. “And quit calling your old man lonely. Your principal is going to get the wrong idea about me and start trying to fix me up with one of her lady friends.” He turned to her. “I hate being fixed up, by the way. Especially by my own son. It's embarrassing.”

Her shoulders relaxed a notch. “Good intentions,” she said quietly, latching onto the escape door in the conversation, and melting into the solid beat that Micah held her gaze. Then she refocused on Ben, who was still frowning at the half-carat antique diamond on her left hand.

Micah was trying not to get turned on every time his skin brushed against Kat's. Trying and failing.

The waitress placed the bill on the table. “Have a good night, guys,” she called cheerfully, heading to another table.

He reached for the paper at the same time that Kat did, and their hands brushed against each other lightly. He
really
hoped that Ben hadn't just seen that. For some reason, his son thought it'd be a good idea for him to hook up with his engaged principal. A taken woman was off-limits. He shouldn't have even been looking at her the way he was. Or having the thoughts he'd entertained over the last forty-five minutes.

“No, no, no. You don't have to pay for me,” Kat argued.

Micah didn't listen. The bill was in his hand and there was no way a woman was sitting at his table and paying for her own meal. His late mother had taught him better than that. He laid some cash on the table and stood. “We'll walk you to your car and make sure you get in all right.”

Ben giggled. “I'll wheel you to your car, Principal Chandler.”

She hesitated, still focused on the bill. “Are you sure about picking up the check?”

“Unless you think that fiancé of yours will mind your student treating you to dinner,” Micah joked, but something flashed behind her eyes. Sadness?

She stood and they exited the restaurant together, stepping out into the cool night. She headed toward a black Mazda in the parking lot.

“This is me,” she said.

“We'll wait until you get inside.” Micah looked down at Ben. “Are you taking notes? This is how you treat a lady.”
And you don't ever go after another man's woman.

Ben's grin made his gut twist a little. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt his son. Telling him about Jessica's deployment would definitely hurt, but it needed to be done before bed tonight. The sooner, the better.

He looked over at Kat, who was now shaking her purse frantically. She crouched down and began dumping it out on the pavement beside the car. “Something wrong?” he asked, stepping forward and leaving Ben parked on the curb.

She blew out a breath. “I can't find my keys. They've got to be in here somewhere.” She shook the bag again. “No jingle. I'll just walk inside and see if I left them in there.” She stuffed the strewn contents back in her bag and stood up.

“We'll wait,” Micah said, watching as she headed back toward the entrance to Kirk's Pizza House. His gaze ran down her backside as she walked away. He liked this view more than the starry sky that was occupying Ben's attention right now. A few minutes later, she reappeared and shook her head.

“Looks like you'll be riding home with us then.”

Her eyes widened. “Home with you?”

“No.” He chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I mean, yes, if you wanted to, but I definitely don't think your fiancé would approve of you coming back to my place.” He said it on purpose this time, waiting to see the sadness flicker in her eyes again. What was that? And where was this guy of hers? Why was she eating alone? “I meant that we'd take you to your home, and then we'd go to our own.”

“Right.” She hugged her purse close to her body, laughing nervously. “I'm so sorry. I'm ruining your father-son night.”

“You're not. Trust me.” He unlocked his Jeep and opened the door for her. Then he went through the ritual of picking up Ben and placing him in the backseat, folding up his wheelchair and placing it in the trunk. Five minutes later, he was seated in the driver's seat and pulling onto the main road with Kat seated beside him.

“I sometimes ride in the front with Dad, but a man always gives up his seat for a lady,” Ben announced proudly.

“That's right, buddy.” He turned to Kat. “Where to?”

“Three-eleven Sage Ridge Drive.”

Micah stiffened at the address. He and Ben had only lived in Seaside for a few months, but they knew that road well. He glanced in the rearview mirror, surprised that Ben wasn't piping up about the fact that Nicole, the last woman he'd gone out with, lived on that road, too. Ben was too busy staring at Kat, though.

His son's questions started again.

“Do you know what an Osprey is?” Ben asked.

She fidgeted with the ring on her finger as she glanced over her shoulder. “A bird,” she said, offering Ben a playful wink. “But it's also a helicopter.”

Micah knew his son. Although he'd be impressed she knew that much, the vague helicopter answer wouldn't suffice. And seeing that Micah had been flying an Osprey for the last seven years, Ben knew more about Ospreys than the typical eight-year-old.

“It's a tilt-rotor aircraft actually,” Ben said.

“Oh.” Kat glanced over at Micah. “Your son is a very smart little guy, isn't he?”

“They can fly vertical and horizontal,” Ben continued, “which is different from a regular helicopter.”

Kat nodded while he continued to rattle off facts about the military's V-22 Osprey.

Ben had been begging him to take him up in one for over a year now, which was impossible even if Micah's father was the commanding officer of Camp Leon—a CO who'd be very disappointed when he learned that his only son wasn't reenlisting at the end of this contract. Ben needed stability, though. From one parent at least.