Page 1 of Whiskey Shivers

PROLOGUE

Hex…

“Hey, no running!” Her voice, while trying to sound authoritative, didn’t quite reach the mark. I looked up the hallway to the beautiful brunette standing outside the doorway to her classroom. Despite her attempt at a stern warning, she couldn’t stop her smile. She never seemed to stop smiling and I had to say, it did things to me.

Corliss Legare was a beauty. One that dressed a little too plain for my tastes; but then again, she was a high school language arts teacher, and had to follow the dress code just like the rest of us. Still, she was beautiful without the benefit of makeup or revealing clothes. She tended to stick to the same tried-and-true outfits day in and day out, and that was alright with me. Her long brown hair was typically up in a ponytail, and today she had some escaping tendrils she reached up to tuck behind her ear.

Her captivating blue eyes met mine and she gave me a wink. I felt my lips tug in an answering smile.

“Hey! Slow down, there.” I stepped in front of the two rowdy boys and they laughingly and begrudgingly slowed their asses down, walking past me, paying me no never mind.

Not a big deal. The desired effect had been achieved. Corliss’s smile grew even wider and she tipped her chin in a nod in my direction. I gave a nod back.

One of the things I liked about her was she treated me with respect. There wasn’t a lot of that to be found for the school custodians, but Corliss Legare didn’t care. She treated everyone with kindness and respect, and I liked that about her. Everyone did. She was a light in the halls and the hearts of faculty and students alike at Lakeside High.

I went back to pushing my mop, giving my head a bit of a shake at the kids making their way through the halls, parting around the adults like water, flowing over the linoleum I mopped a spill of soda off of in a babble and a rush of excited chatter.

I risked a glance at Cor’s shapely ass as she strode back into her classroom. Her jeans hugged it oh so perfectly. I shot a look around me to make sure no one had caught me looking and thought to myself just how much I wished I could watch it stride through the doors of my club. The things I would do to that woman if she’d let me.

What could I say?

I was definitely hot for this particular teacher.

CHAPTERONE

Corliss…

“Hi.” I leaned down to kiss my fiancé Mark. He absently looked up from his computer screen, giving a grunt of annoyance and jerking back at first before his mind seemed to calibrate into the here and now. He quickly pecked me on the lips.

“Working from home today?” I asked.

He made a non-committal noise and asked me, “What’s for dinner?”

I fought not to roll my eyes and kept my sigh of defeat to an inward one.

He was letting his job take overeverything,and I was starting to feel like I didn’t matter. That I was only here in a support role to make his life easier. That I was more of an assistant than a girlfriend, or wife… which was discouraging to say the least.

I mean, I had moved all the way out here with him so that he could take this job. Uprooted my entire life from Houston and left all my friends to move to a city I didn’t know, away from the only area that I had ever known, for him. Lately, it was like he couldn’t even give me the time of day.

“I don’t know,” I said. “Have a taste for anything?”

He was wholly focused on his computer screen and frowning. “Just whatever, babe. It’s fine.”

I tipped my head back and felt my shoulders drop in utter defeat. I stood there for several moments, willing him to pay me justanymind. When it didn’t happen, I let the sigh building escape me and went into the kitchen to figure it out on my own.

I’d donea lotof figuring it out on my own. My whole life, really.

I’d been born to drug-addicted parents and had been in and out of the Texas child welfare system, bouncing back and forth until my mother had finally OD’d when I was twelve. My dad wasn’t anywhere to be found, and my grandparents were physically incapable of taking me. They had pretty much both died within a couple of years of my mom. My grandmother on her side had had a stroke years before and my grandpa was her sole caregiver until he’d died of a cardiac event. My grandmother eventually died in some home somewhere – at least that’s what I had to assume. I never heard and couldn’t find her. There was just no information.

I’d ended up aging out of the system, had taken the full amount of government aid offered to me, and had gone for teaching – working my ass off and taking a shit ton of student loans to put myself through college. I knew I’d never be able to pay them all off, but I had to do something with myself. My heart was into maybe being that saving grace to another kid with a rough background like mine. Like one of my English teachers had been for me.

I’d met Mark in college. Some of our classes overlapped even though his degree was completely in Internet Technologies and Business or whatever. I couldn’t follow all his computer jargon and coding. I was all about English and language arts. I’d been a reader my whole life, disappearing into books to avoid the crazy that my life was by no choice of my own.

Mark had made being with him easy, and when he’d asked me to move with him, and marry him, I’d jumped at the opportunity – especially knowing that I could maybe make a difference when it came to the school I’d been hired at.

Let me tell you – teaching a bunch of inner-city ninth graders from a poorer ward or neighborhood? It wasn’t easy. It was mentally and emotionally exhausting on a good day, and entering into my second year of teaching as I was now? I was still worried about failing. You know? I mean, all but three of my students passed last year, and none of them were held back a grade, so that was something? Right?

You would think, but I was less worried about failing as a teacher in the getting them all to pass regard, as I was failing them individually by giving a single one of my students the feeling like they couldn’t come to me about anything or for anything. Especially the ones with a maladjusted home life.

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