His Texas Forever Family. Amy Woods

in through the large office windows, and she’d taken off her suit jacket, revealing long, slender arms. As he met the harried expression on her face, Liam found himself thinking that maybe he’d just have to get through a few of her cactus spines before he could find the soft flesh underneath....

      Liam stepped past Paige and she closed the door, motioning for him to sit in one of the chairs in front of her desk.

      “Is something amusing, Mr. Campbell?” she asked.

      He cut short his study of her as she spoke. “Of course not,” he said. He hadn’t even known he was smiling until she’d caught him. Where was his usual controlled nonchalance?

      “Good,” she said, briefly returning her attention to the papers spread out on the solemn-looking oak desk.

      The desk suits her, Liam thought as he sat and folded his hands on his lap, waiting for her to finish sorting the work that was obviously more important than him.

      “Now, Mr. Campbell,” she said, finally meeting his eyes. “I won’t take too much of your time as I’m sure you have plenty to do,” she said, lacing her fingers in front of her. Liam got the strong sensation that he was just another item to check off her To-Deal-With list.

      “But,” she continued, “I just wanted to make it absolutely clear that tardiness will not be tolerated at this school.”

      Liam winced at the word. Tardy? He wasn’t one of her students and certainly didn’t appreciate being treated with such disdain. He had a master’s degree in art education, thank you very much, and was well on his way to a Ph.D., so who was she to talk to him so condescendingly? Sure, she was in a position of authority, but that didn’t give her the right to berate him for one mistake. He was the one doing the school a favor by filling an open position at the last minute, not the other way around.

      Liam set his mouth to keep from saying something he’d regret. Forcing a polite smile, he met her cornflower eyes and addressed her, matching her less than friendly tone with his own.

      “As I said this morning, Mrs. Graham, I’m very sorry that I was late. It will not happen again. But there’s a good reason...”

      “It’s Ms., not Mrs., Graham,” she interrupted.

      He couldn’t believe that she wouldn’t let him talk for one minute... Wait a second—why was he relieved at the correction? And anyway, what was he doing thinking about her like that? Even if he was interested in letting another woman into his life, which he wasn’t, it sure wouldn’t be someone as uptight as Paige Graham.

      Liam said nothing, concentrating his effort on stopping the cascade of disconcerting thoughts. She’d have to learn to listen before he’d waste another breath trying to talk to her. He was patient, but a man had only so much courtesy, and she was pushing it.

      Paige’s face softened slightly. “Look, Mr. Campbell, there’s something else I want to say.” She raised a hand to rub her temples and closed her eyes for a few seconds. The brief gesture caused an unwelcome softness to swell in his chest. He saw for the first time how stressed she seemed to be and noticed the pale purple half-moons under her otherwise pretty—more than pretty, beautiful, if he was honest—eyes. After all, she looked barely twenty-five, although Liam assumed she had to be older than that to have worked her way up to her position. She certainly behaved like someone older.

      What in her life could possibly account for that air of severity hovering around her?

      * * *

      After a few minutes, Paige opened her eyes and met Liam’s, which, despite everything, weren’t filled with the irritation she’d expected. She hadn’t meant to be so hard on him that morning, and honestly, she owed him an apology. She resisted the urge to explain herself, not wanting to bring up Owen or the challenging time she’d had getting him to school that morning.

      It had been her husband’s job to get Owen to school most mornings because Paige had to be there so much earlier than her son. It was hard enough on both of them now, with her working at her own child’s school, but it had been a lot less stressful when Owen’s dad had taken care of getting him there.

      A lot of things had been easier when Mark had been around. When he’d been alive.

      The past six months had stretched Paige’s nerves as thin as they could go. But no matter how hard things had gotten, and no matter how many days and nights she worried how her son would fare growing up without his father, she knew it was always a thousand times worse for Owen. Her heart ached for her little boy, and as she worried about him for the millionth time that day, she had to fight the tears that crowded behind her eyes and threatened to make her look even more off-kilter than she must have already that morning.

      But Liam Campbell didn’t need to know any of that.

      She only needed to reestablish her authority as his superior, and then hopefully she could refer him to Principal Matthews if any issues came up in the future.

      She met Liam’s eyes, the rich, heady green of them hitting her all over again.

      “What I wanted to say is that I’m very sorry for the way things happened this morning.”

      Paige looked down at her hands. She felt the entire day sitting heavily on her shoulders, and the startling thought invaded her mind of how great a massage would be. How wonderful Liam’s large hands would feel, kneading the tension from her tight muscles, melting away the weight of all the hats she wore—assistant principal, mother and father. She felt heat rush to her cheeks.

      What is wrong with you? Get it together, Paige. You’re the man’s boss, for goodness’ sake.

      “Even though it was unprofessional and inconvenient of you to arrive late on your first day, I shouldn’t have reprimanded you in front of the kids, and I do apologize.”

      Despite her intention, it didn’t sound like much of an apology, even to her own ears. She hoped he would accept it anyway. What was it about him that set her off so easily, that made her want to keep him at a safe distance from the rush of confusion in her body, yet also draw him nearer?

      “That’s fine,” Liam said, offering her a gentle smile that Paige hoped was as sincere as she’d meant her words to sound. The last thing she needed was to be at odds with one of her staff. Their opinions of her meant more than most of them probably knew, especially with the possibility of a promotion coming up.

      She’d been a teacher herself after graduating from college until she finished her master’s degree and became a supervisor two years before, so Paige knew exactly what instructors went through each day on the job and how tough it could be sometimes. She made a point to visit her staff in action regularly and talk with them so that she didn’t lose touch with what it felt like to be in the classroom.

      “So, then,” she said, feeling relieved. “Can we start fresh? Consider this our first meeting?”

      Paige hoped she didn’t sound too desperate. Something about this man just put her on edge. Liam looked at her, his eyes still narrowed a little—trying to read her, she supposed—and then seemed to decide it was safe to agree to a truce. He reached a large hand across her desk. She noticed the colors underneath his fingernails and caught the pleasant, familiar scent of crayon wax from his skin and thought of how much Owen loved art. She resisted the strong compulsion to ask how Liam’s first day of class had gone, and whether or not he’d noticed her son’s disability.

      “Done,” he said. Paige shook his hand and started at how wonderful it felt, firm and warm around her own small, cool one. She hoped he didn’t notice her slight jump at his touch and was grateful when he quickly pulled away from her and rose to leave. He made it to the door and turned back around to retrace his steps, and her heart did a small flip.

      “I wanted to ask you about one more thing,” he said, sitting back in the chair and resting his elbows on his knees.

      “Of course.”

      “There’s a young man in my last class, the first graders, who