Cocky Protector - Kat Mizera Page 0,21
one place?”
I frowned. “Both, I suppose.”
“To be honest, I’ve never wanted a house in the suburbs, a dog and two-point-five kids. I’d be open to having a special woman in my life, maybe even a kid, but settling in one place, working some nine-to-five job and doing the same thing every day sounds like hell on earth to me.”
I dipped my head, slightly embarrassed because that was exactly the kind of life I had. Minus having someone special in my life.
“I love my job,” I said after a moment. “So it doesn’t feel like drudgery. I love being able to dig into the minds of kids, whether they’re five or fifteen, and help them discover the world around them. There’s always a bad day now and then, that’s part of life, but in general, I love what I do.”
“That’s how I used to feel about what I do,” he said. “The last few years have changed me. A lot has happened, things that have changed my view of the world more than me as a person. But I suppose those go hand in hand.”
“I suppose they do.” We entered the Christmas market and despite the dark turn our conversation had taken, it was hard to be down amid the bright lights, decorations and the wonderful scents we were immediately assaulted with. My stomach growled, reminding me it had been hours since I’d eaten.
“Potato pancakes,” Ace said suddenly. “Do you like them?”
“I love them,” I responded with a grin. “Though I try not to indulge too often.”
“It’s almost Christmas. Come on!” He tugged me toward a booth and got in line.
“You’re going to get me fat,” I protested mildly, though I was mostly kidding. I hadn’t been running the last week, but I did it often and it kept me in shape. “I’m going to have to run a hundred miles this weekend.”
“Do you run?” he asked me.
“When I can.” I nodded. “This time of year is hard because of finals coming up. Lots of paperwork, papers to grade, grades to turn in…”
“When does school let out?”
“Next Wednesday.”
“So just one more day this week and three days next week? And you’re off until when?”
“Second week of January.”
“There are perks to teaching,” he said as we got up to the counter. He got two orders of potato pancakes, one with applesauce and one with a horseradish-type sauce, and I was impressed with his command of the German language.
“You speak German well,” I said as we stood at a bar-height table to eat.
“Like I told you, I have a thing for languages. I speak a lot of them.”
“How many?”
He paused. “Eight fluently, four or five more that I can muddle through.”
“Thirteen languages?” I gaped at him. “I thought I was cool because I speak three and a half.”
“Is German the half?” he asked.
“Yes, but I’m learning.”
“We can practice if you want.”
“Are you going to be around long enough for us to practice?” I met his gaze intently, as if that was a very important question.
“Would you like me to be?”
Chapter Eleven
Ace
I had to stop this little game I was playing with myself, pretending I might be able to spend more time with her. I wanted to, but I had to go as soon as I handled this stalker situation, and letting her think otherwise wasn’t fair to either of us.
“I’d love if you stayed for a while.” She paused. “But something tells me you’re not going to.”
“What makes you say that?” She was fairly astute for someone as naïve as she claimed to be.
“The way a muscle in your cheek twitches just a little the minute we discuss something like how long you’re staying, or having two-point-five kids.”
Damn. How did she know me so well already? “It’s not something I’m used to talking about. I’ve steered clear of the heavy stuff over the years because I had to.”
“And now?”
“Darlin’, the first time I danced with you, you made me want to break every rule in the book. And it doesn’t seem to be any different this time.”
“Why do you think that is?” Her eyes were guileless but I had a feeling there was a lot more emotion behind her question than she was letting on.
“I wish I knew. There’s something about you.” I reached out and impulsively cupped her chin with my hand, letting my thumb gently rub away a touch of applesauce on her lower lip.
“There’s something about you too,” she whispered, her eyes never leaving mine.
“If I kiss you, Shannon, I’m