Spring Secrets - Allie Boniface Page 0,33
She settled herself in the rocker with Silas on her lap and began to read. Each time someone passed her door, she looked up. It was only when they’d finished both books and Caleb announced they had ten minutes to pack up and walk to the buses that she realized Dash wasn’t coming. Well, what did she expect? Dropping off classroom supplies was one thing. Spending time with her and her students was something else altogether.
He clearly had things to take care of. So did she. In fact, tonight would be the perfect night to start sorting through her things and deciding what to put in storage when she went abroad. July would be here before she knew it. Then her phone rang, and Sienna forgot about everything except her mother’s panicked voice on the other end of the line.
“Ma? What’s wrong?”
“Your brother’s just been suspended for fighting.”
AT ONE THIRTY, DASH started looking at the clock. I could stop in for the last hour of school. Sienna invited me. Said it would be good for the kids. He wasn’t thrilled about having to read, if she asked him to. But part of him wanted to see if the kids liked the bean bag chairs. He also had to return her plastic food containers, long since emptied out and scrubbed clean. “I’m going out around two,” he told Hans.
“Okay.” The kid texted with a mad blur of his thumbs.
“Who are you talking to?”
“Liesel. Met her last month.” Hans grinned and finally put his phone down. “She’s amazing, man. So hot. So funny.”
That could be a good combination, but Dash could’ve told Hans that women always seemed hot and funny when you first met them. Let them into your life, add them to your bank account, share some of your deepest fears, and see what happened then.
“Get everything done here, and then you can text.” Dash pointed to the trash that needed to go out, sitting next to a shovel. “Clean up the back steps when you go out, would you?”
“Sure thing, boss.”
“You see those kids out back again, let me know,” Dash added.
Hans nodded and tossed the trash bags over his shoulder. “You got a visitor,” he said as he left.
Dash turned in time to see Ella Ericksen strut inside. Everyone in town knew her. Half the town had slept with her. She probably could’ve been a model if she’d ever left Whispering Pines, but to Dash’s knowledge she hadn’t. Today, despite the slick sidewalks and the mud and slush everywhere in town, she wore stiletto heels and a long white coat. “Hey, handsome.”
“Hey, yourself. Aren’t you supposed to be at work?” Last time he’d checked, Ella worked long hours at the upscale hair salon on Park Place Run.
She laughed and tossed her hair. “Who are you, my father?” She peeled off her red leather gloves, finger by finger. “I’m on lunch break.”
“Oh.” He looked over his shoulder, willing Hans to return.
“Don’t worry. I’m not here to seduce you.” Ella narrowed her gaze. “Unless you want me to.”
“I’m sure there are more worthy guys.” Dash checked the time. One forty-five.
She sighed and tossed her hair again. “I just wanted to see if I could leave these here.” She handed him a handful of red and white flyers with the words Pet Me! Love Me! Take Me Home! at the top. For a minute he thought they were advertising some kind of sex show or porn shop. Really, Ella? The gym is PG-rated. Then he saw the red hearts on both sides of the paper and photos of dogs and cats with pleading eyes along the bottom.
“What is this?”
“You know my sister works at Whispering Pines Paws, right?”
Dash wasn’t even sure what that was, but it didn’t sound like a sex show or a porn shop. He nodded and played along. “Sure.”
“They’re having a fundraiser next weekend. Raising money for a new kennel or something.”
Ah. The animal shelter. Now the reference to petting made more sense.
Ella wrinkled her nose. “It’s dinner and dancing and a silent auction over at Villa Amore in Silver Valley.”
“That’s a fancy place.”
“No kidding. Anyway, they’re a little low on donations this year, so I’m making the rounds to ask local places if they want to give something for the auction. Maybe a gift certificate or a gym membership?”
“Oh. Sure.” That was a no-brainer—a tax write-off plus free advertising. “Do I have to come to the dinner?”
“Well, you’re invited, obviously.” She cocked her head. “I’m sure I could