Love Under The Big Sky: Falling For Jillian Part 37

Following directly behind Josh is a tall, blond woman I don't recognize, laughing at something he must have said just before he sauntered through the door. They stop on the covered front porch long enough for him to smile sweetly down at her. He pulls his large hand down her arm and murmurs, "Have a good day, and good luck."

"Thanks, Josh," she responds, and bounces down the steps of the front porch, nods at me, and hops into her Jeep.

"Carolina Donovan," Josh murmurs, and stuffs his hands in his pockets.

"You know I hate it when you call me Carolina." I roll my eyes. "My parents should have been brought up on child-abuse charges for that name."

Josh laughs and shakes his head. "It's a beautiful name." He frowns and rocks back on his heels. "You look great, Cara."

"Uh, you've seen me around town over the years, Josh," I remind him with a half smile. "I hope I didn't interrupt anything?" I grimace inside, regretting the question immediately. Mom always said, never ask a question you don't want the answer to.

He shrugs one shoulder and offers me that c.o.c.ky grin. G.o.d, he's such a charmer. "Nah, we were finished."

I frown at him. What does that mean?

"So, where is Seth?" I ask, changing the subject.

Josh frowns in turn and looks toward the big house. "He should be on his way in a few minutes. I have to warn you, Cara, working with Seth may not be a day at the beach. He's a good kid, but he's having a rough time of it." Josh rubs his hand over his face and sighs.

"Why is he here and not with his mom?"

"Because the b.i.t.c.h dropped him off here so she can be footloose and fancy-free. She's filed for divorce. Good riddance. I wish she'd brought him to us years ago."

"Oh." I don't know what else to say. I never liked Kensie King. She was a b.i.t.c.h in high school, but she was pretty and popular, and I'm quite sure Zack never planned on knocking her up.

But none of that is Seth's fault.

"What areas does he need help in?" I ask, and pull my tote bag out of the pa.s.senger seat. When I turn around, Josh's eyes are on my a.s.s and he's chewing on his lower lip. I frown and stand up straight, self-conscious of my round behind.

"Josh?"

"I'm sorry, what?" He shakes his head and narrows his eyes on my face.

"What areas does Seth need the most help in?"

"All of them. He failed every cla.s.s this spring."

"Every cla.s.s?" I ask incredulously.

"Yeah. He's a smart kid, I don't know what his problem is."

"I don't need a tutor!" a young male voice calls out. I turn to see Seth riding a BMX bike from the big house down the driveway.

"Seth, don't start." Josh's eyes narrow and he folds his arms over his chest. "Ms. Donovan is here to help. You will be nice."

Seth rolls his eyes and hops off the bike, laying it on its side, and mirrors his uncle's stance, arms crossed over his chest.

G.o.d, he looks just like his dad and his uncle. He could be their younger brother. He's going to inherit their height and has the same dark hair, but his eyes are hazel.

He's going to be a knockout someday.

And right now he's scowling at me.

"Hi, Seth. I'm Cara."

"What is it, Cara or Ms. Donovan?" he asks defiantly.

"Seth!" Josh begins, but I interrupt him. Seth isn't the first difficult child I've come across.

"Since it's summer, and I'm in your home, it's Cara. But if you see me at school, it's Ms. Donovan. Sound fair?"

Seth shrugs his slim shoulders and twists his lips as if he wants to say something smart but doesn't dare in his uncle's company.

Smart kid.

"Where do you want us?" I ask Josh, who is still glaring at Seth. They're clearly frustrated with each other.

"You can sit at the kitchen table. The house is empty during the day since I'm out working, so you shouldn't be interrupted." Josh motions for us to go in ahead of him, and as I walk past, he reaches out to pull my hair. "What happened to your curls?"

"I voted them off the island," I reply dryly, then almost trip as he laughs, sending s.h.i.+vers down my spine.

He leans in and whispers, "I liked them."

I shrug and follow Seth to the kitchen. "I didn't."

Josh's home is s.p.a.cious; the floor plan is open from the living area right inside the front door through to the eat-in kitchen with its maple cabinets the color of honey and smooth, light granite countertops. The windows are wide and I can see all over the property from inside the main room.

I immediately feel at home here, despite the obvious bachelor-pad feel to it. Large, brown leather couches face a floor-to-ceiling river-rock fireplace with a flat-screen TV mounted above it. Fis.h.i.+ng, hunting, and men's-health magazines are scattered on the coffee table, along with an empty coffee mug. Not a throw pillow or knickknack to be found anywhere.

Typical guy.

Seth pulls a chair away from the table and plops down in it, resting his head on his folded arms.

"Seth, sit up." Josh is exasperated and Seth just sinks deeper into his slouch.

"I think we're good to go." I grin at Josh but he scowls.

"Are you sure?"

"Yep, we're good. You get to work and leave us be so we can too."

I turn my back on him, dismissing him, and begin pulling worksheets, pens, and a book out of my bag.

"I'll be working nearby today, so just call my cell if you need me."

"Fine." I wave him off, not looking over at him. I sense him still standing behind me. Finally I turn and raise an eyebrow. "You're still here."

He's watching me carefully, leaning against the countertop, his rough hands tucked in his pockets. My eyes are drawn to his biceps, straining against the sleeves of his tee. "You got really pushy."

"I'm a teacher. It's either be pushy or die a long, slow death. Now go. We have work to do today."

"You'll have lunch with us before you go." Josh pushes himself away from the counter and saunters to the front door, grabs an old, faded-green baseball cap, and settles it backward on his head. "I'm pushy too."

He grins and that dimple winks at me before he leaves the house, shutting the door behind him.

Good G.o.d, I will not be able to focus if he doesn't leave us be while I'm here.

"You ready to get to work?" I ask Seth, thumbing through my writing worksheets until I find the one I want.

"This is a waste of time," he grumbles.

"Why do you say that?"

He shrugs again and buries his face in his arms.

"Well, I don't consider it a waste of time. What's your favorite subject?"

No answer.

"Least favorite?"

No answer.

"I personally like math, but I always sucked at it."

Seth s.h.i.+fts his head slightly and one eye peeks at me.

"Are you good at math?" I ask him.

"It's easy."

"Not for me." I sigh.

"But you're a teacher." Seth finally sits up and frowns at me.

"That doesn't mean I'm good at everything. Teachers aren't superhuman or anything."

"I can do math."

"Okay, let's start there."

Seth eyes me for a minute and then shrugs. It seems shrugging is his favorite form of communication.

"Are you really going to stay and have lunch?"

"Does that make you uncomfortable?" I pa.s.s him the math worksheet.

"No, I don't care." He picks up a pencil and starts marking the sheet, digging right in, and I grin.

"Does the food suck?"

"No, Gram packs us a lunch every day."

"Well then, I'll stay."

His lips twitch, but he doesn't smile-yet somehow I think I just won a big battle.

"So, looks like fried chicken and potato salad, homemade rolls, and fruit." Josh pulls the last of the food out of the ice chest and pa.s.ses Seth a c.o.ke.

"Your mom goes all out."

"She's been making lunch for ranch hands for almost forty years. It's habit."

We're sitting on Josh's back patio. It's partially covered, with a hanging swing on one side and a picnic table on the other and looks out over a large meadow where cattle are grazing.

"Do you get a lot of deer back here?" I ask.

He nods and swallows. "Usually in the evening and very early mornings. A moose walked through last week."

"That was cool," Seth murmurs, and Josh looks up in surprise.

Does Seth never talk to him?

"Yeah, it was," Josh agrees softly.

"Do you fish?" Seth asks me as he takes a big bite out of a chicken breast, sending golden pieces of fried batter down the front of his s.h.i.+rt. His dark hair is a bit too long and falls over one eye. I grin at him. He's adorable.

"No. I hate fis.h.i.+ng."

"How can you hate to fish?!" Seth exclaims, as if I'd just admitted to hating ice cream.

"It's dirty." I wrinkle my nose and Josh bursts out laughing.

"Everything here is dirty, sweetheart." Josh shakes his head and nudges me lightly with his elbow.

He's such a flirt!

"But you live in Montana!" Seth exclaims, examining me as if I were a science project, his chicken momentarily forgotten.

"I live in town, Seth. Always have. My dad loves to fish. I just never really got into it." I shrug and take a bite of delicious homemade potato salad.

"But you like horses, right?" He shovels a heaping forkful of potato salad into his mouth.

"I've never ridden one." I chuckle and shake my head as I watch him eat. "Are they starving you here, Seth? The way you're eating, you'd think you haven't seen food in days."

Seth just blinks at me. He slowly smiles, but I cut him off before he can voice the idea I can see forming in that sharp brain of his.

"I'm not getting on a horse."