before it caused her permanent hearing damage, then tried to take the headphones from him. “I’ll do this.”
“Keep still.” He swatted her hands away.
When she made a second attempt, he grabbed both her wrists with one hand. Then, to her utter and complete astonishment, leaned down and kissed the side of her neck, his lips warm and firm against her skin.
She froze, but her pulse went bonkers. Heat filled her cheeks and belly and lower. She swallowed hard, not sure what to say, what to do.
He released her hands and extracted the headphones from her hair. “There.” Stepping back, he looked at her as if nothing had happened.
Should she ignore the kiss? Yell at him?
Kiss him back?
No, that was out of the question. Definitely out of the question. She’d have to be an idiot.
She stared up into his beautiful green eyes.
As calmly as possible, she got up and opened the door. “I thought you were leaving today,” she said, and returned to her desk, her gaze lowered, carefully avoiding the amusement in his face.
And then it hit her. He really was supposed to leave today.
Was he on his way to the airstrip now? Her panicked gaze slid his way. He wore jeans and a white polo shirt. That told her nothing.
“Well?” she asked, her voice sounding oddly calm. To her amazement, she didn’t want him to go.
“Why do you want to know?” He flashed a grin and sat on the edge of her desk. “You going to miss me?”
“Like I would an ulcer.”
He made a disbelieving sound. “Seriously, you know I had nothing to do with last night.”
“I seem to recall you being right in the middle of things.”
“Hold on. I only stepped forward to keep you from pounding on poor Herb.”
“I wasn’t pounding on him.” Frustrated, she moved a stack of books with too much force and one of them went flying off her desk. “And who do you think you are barging your way in here and kissing me?”
He’d stooped to retrieve the history book, but he paused for a second, a smile spreading across his face. Then he scooped up the text, laid it on her desk and sat on one of the students’ chairs, facing her. “Is that what has you in such a delightful mood?”
She forced herself to meet his gaze just because he probably figured she wouldn’t. “What do you want? Another piece of my hide?”
“Sounds too painful. How about lunch?”
“It’s three o’clock.”
“Your point is?”
“Normal people had lunch hours ago, not that I consider you normal.” She smiled. “Or that I would ever think of having lunch or anything else with you.”
His gaze had strayed to the wall clock, and he was frowning slightly. “Three, huh?”
She took a closer look at him. He was unshaved, and his too-long hair was a little disheveled. “Did you just wake up?”
He lifted a shoulder. “Not exactly.”
Appalled, she sank back in her chair and stared at him. “You did.”
“Did not. I’ve already stopped by Chester Southby’s office and everything.”
“He’s still away fishing.”
“So, I only said I stopped by.”
“That took all of two minutes.”
Max grunted his annoyance. “What are you? My social secretary all of a sudden?”
Abby did little to hide her smile as she relaxed in her chair and folded her arms across her chest. “Sorry. I’m sure you spent your day deciding what you’ll do with the Swinging R.”
“You’re not mayor yet, sweetheart. I don’t need you poking your nose in my affairs.”
“But it was okay for you to kiss me?”
“You’re still fixated on that?” Amusement lit his eyes. “That wasn’t even a real kiss. I just did that to get you to keep still.”
“You presumptuous…”
“It worked.”
Momentarily speechless, Abby stared at him in indignation. When she finally opened her mouth to give him a good dressing down, she caught some movement out of the corner of her eye.
“What are you two arguing about now?”
Abby glowered at Virgil, standing at the door, his arms crossed above his big, round belly, the snaps of his red western shirt ready to pop. “Put out that cigar.”
She’d sounded more terse than she meant to, but her nerves were shot. She was afraid he’d heard too much, and by the time the story made its rounds, they’d have her and Max french-kissing in the back seat of her car.
With a bulldog frown, Virgil pulled the stogie out of his mouth. “Don’t get your bowels in an uproar. I haven’t even lit the damn thing yet.”
Abby glanced at all the papers she had yet to grade and sighed. “What is this? Grand Central Station?”
Max stood, and nodded to the older man, then looked at Abby. “What do you know about Grand Central?”
“Probably from going to that fancy school back East,” Virgil said, and proceeded to make himself at home on one of the students’ chairs.
Abby winced inside, waiting for the chair to break. Of course the upside would be getting rid of Virgil. Max, she didn’t know what to do with yet. She wanted him to leave, yet she wanted him to stay.
Reluctantly, she slid him a glance. He was looking at her, curiosity making his green eyes glitter.
What she really wanted was for him to give her a real kiss.
Dammit. The thought added salt to her raw nerves. “What do you want, Virgil?”
He frowned at her. “You’re not still miffed over last night, are you? We were just having a healthy discussion, is all.”
“No, I’m not miffed. But I do have a lot of papers to grade.”
Virgil glanced at Max, then pointedly looked at Abby, and grinned.
“Mr. Bennett was just leaving,” she said. “Hopefully, not just my office, but Bingo—even better, Nevada.”
Virgil chuckled. “I sure hope not. We have a proposition for him.”
“Proposition?” Max looked nervous.
Abby felt a flutter in her stomach herself. “We?”
“A bunch of us from last night had coffee this morning and we were thinking—” Virgil looked around the classroom. “You got any water in here?”
“Virgil,” Abby warned between clenched teeth.
A confused frown clouded Max’s face, as though he were trying to wade through the undercurrent, make sense of what was not being said.
“He doesn’t want any water,” she explained. “He just likes to build suspense. Virgil, you always do this, and for your information, no one in town likes it. They think you’re a drama king.”
Virgil scoffed and looked at Max for support.
Max only shrugged. “She could’ve called you a drama queen.”
Abby immediately looked down at her desktop blotter to keep from laughing out loud. It was enough to imagine Virgil’s inevitable bug-eyed expression at that remark.
“Your