Need You Now

“Are you Melanie Knowles?”

“Yes.” It didn’t register at first, and then her insides did a little tap dance. “Are you from Prison Reform Now?”

“Lucas Sloan,” he said, pushing up and offering his hand. “I’m early.”

Thank goodness she had the presence of mind to wipe her damp palms on her jeans again. His hand dwarfed hers, the skin rough and calloused like that of most of the men who worked the ranches in the area. But she couldn’t recall a man’s handshake ever sending a jolt of electricity up her arm. Had to be his eyes. Staring into them was dangerous. She’d lost track of the conversation.

She recovered quickly, and they both let go at the same time. “How’s your truck?” She moved away to check his bumper. It wasn’t as horrifying as she’d expected. “The school has insurance. Of course, we’ll take care of it.”

“I’m not worried. We’ll let the insurance companies duke it out.” He smiled, his teeth so white against his tanned face. “Let’s focus on getting you back on the road with these kids. I assume you have a jack and spare.”

“I hope so. We should.” She paused for a moment, pretty sure she’d seen something of that nature behind the last row of seats. She turned to go have a look, then realized she was being rude. Melanie glanced over her shoulder to tell him that...

He was staring at her backside.

Her breath caught. Men didn’t stare at her like that.

Again she lost track of what she was going to say. Swallowing, she tucked her unruly hair behind her ear and hurried onto the bus.

“Who is that, Ms. Knowles?” Chelsea was kneeling on the last seat to peer out the rear window. “He’s hot.”

Cody made a sound of disgust. “That guy’s old enough to be your father.”

“No, he isn’t.” Chelsea tossed her long hair and smiled at Lucas. Everyone knew Cody had a crush on her, including Chelsea.

“Excuse me, Chelsea. You’ll have to move.” Melanie could access the equipment without displacing the girl, but she doubted Lucas appreciated being ogled by a seventeen-year-old going on thirty. Or maybe not. What did she know about him? “One of you boys, help me pull this out, please.”

Cody and another student jumped up. Cody was lean but strong and used to manual labor. Russ wasn’t a weakling, though he was more the studious type.

Darn it. Great time for the husky football players to be at practice. She could’ve used them to change the tire. Now she’d have to call her boss to send someone. It would take forever.

She saw Lucas watching her, his brows raised in question. She gave him a nod, then asked the rest of the kids to stand aside so the boys could drag the tire and tools down the short aisle. Getting out of the way herself, she grabbed her phone off the driver’s seat and left the bus.

“I think we have everything,” she told Lucas. “It can’t be much different than a car, right?” Her finger poised for speed dial, she stepped farther back so she wasn’t blocking the door. “But if you notice we’re missing something, I’d appreciate knowing before I call someone to come out.”

He frowned, then turned his attention to the two boys wrestling the oversize tire and large metal box to the door. Without hesitation, Lucas hefted the box from the bus to the ground. It landed with a thud. Good grief—she’d had no idea it was that heavy.

Cody had some trouble getting the tire out, but she noted that Lucas seemed careful not to jump in and take over. He stood back, watching the boys work it out. While he was occupied, her gaze meandered down his lean body. His jeans were on the worn side but his white shirt was spotless, the sleeves deftly rolled back to the middle of his muscled forearms. Someone had taken care to iron that shirt. A wife perhaps? His ring finger was bare but that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

Once the tire hit the ground, Lucas put his booted foot out to stop it from bouncing.

“Think you guys can give me a hand swapping out the tires?” he asked the boys.

“Sure,” Cody said with a shrug as if it were no big deal.

Russ pushed his glasses back in place and nodded, not looking quite as confident.

Melanie shook her head. “I’m calling the school to send someone....”

“No need,” Lucas said, unfastening the buttons on his shirt.

Melanie’s gaze went to the wedge of chest he’d exposed. By the time she could speak, he’d undone two more. “No, really, we’re close enough to town, Mr. Sloan. It won’t take someone long to—”

“It’s Lucas.” He shrugged out of the shirt. “Would you mind?” he asked, holding it out to her.

“Of course not.” She checked her hand to make sure it was clean but also to redirect her attention. Staring stupidly at his muscled chest wouldn’t do.

After handing off the shirt, he took the spare and rolled it to the rear of the bus. His back and shoulder muscles were equally well developed, and if not for the three senior girls fogging the bus’s windows, Melanie might not have caught herself staring a bit too intently. She motioned for them to go back to their seats, but they took her hand gesture as a cue to rush to the door.

“No.” She met them before Chelsea left the bottom step. “Stay inside. The guys don’t need an audience.”

Leaving the tire with Cody, Lucas approached her, a faint smile touching the corners of his mouth. “They all need to get off so we can jack up the bus.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.” She watched him pick up the box of tools and head to the back of the bus.

The girls came spilling out. Mia and Chelsea had both applied peach-tinted lip gloss. “Oh, for goodness’ sakes,” Melanie muttered. Lucas looked to be in his early thirties. Teenage girls these days had no shame and few boundaries.

As if it had a will of its own, her gaze went to Lucas’s bulging biceps. Apparently, neither did their teacher.

“Want me to hold that for him?”

Melanie blinked at Chelsea. She meant his shirt. “No, I’m putting it out of harm’s way. You girls stay back. Leave Mr. Sloan some breathing room.”

“He said we could call him Lucas,” Chelsea said with a cheeky grin.

“No, he told me to call him Lucas. You may call him Mr. Sloan.” Melanie realized she was crushing his shirt collar and hurried onto the bus to find a safe place to hang the garment.

Brandon was still in his seat texting. Mark sat behind him, one with his smartphone.

“Come on, guys. Get off now.” She draped the shirt over the steering wheel, then followed the boys out.

“She really is a cool teacher. Our favorite.”

Melanie heard Chelsea’s voice coming from behind the bus. She paused and smiled. Though she wasn’t bucking for teacher of the year, it was nice to know what the students thought of her.

“Even if she is old-fashioned,” Chelsea said just as Melanie was about to join them.

The awful term stopped her cold. She almost turned around and headed for the office. The girl didn’t know she was there. But Lucas did. From his crouched position, his gaze swept up to briefly meet hers. Melanie managed to find a smile for him but it was too late. He’d already shifted his attention back to loosening the lug nuts.

Old-fashioned? That was how the students regarded her? Maybe she shouldn’t be shocked... No, not shocked so much as hurt. Though why should she care? She was their teacher. But she was only twenty-seven, barely ten years older than most of them.

“I’m going to call the school and let them know why we’re late,” she said. “Lucas, we have some water and soda in the office. May I get you something?”

“No, thanks. I’m good.” He gave her a smile that should’ve made her breath catch.

Instead, she sighed as it sank in that Chelsea was right. Melanie wasn’t anything like the exciting and daring women she saw on television. And she certainly wasn’t a woman a man like Lucas would look at twice.

2