Page 17 of Twice Shy

Joel swallowed and turned to look out the window. A bank of gray clouds drew menacingly close. “Rain soon, I think. We should get that stuff packed away ASAP.”

Out the corner of his eye, he watched Ollie pull the sweatshirt over his head and wriggle his arms into the sleeves. “Let’s do it,” he said, pushing a hand through his disheveled curls—as ifanythingcould tame them. “And, uh, thanks for the loan. I feel warmer already.”

“No problem.” Joel turned around with what he hoped was nonchalance. The sweatshirt hung a little broad on Ollie’s shoulders and gaped at the neck, revealing a tantalizing glimpse of freckled clavicle. He lifted his gaze to Ollie’s eyes—the dark brown was flecked with amber, he noticed helplessly, like warm honey—and one corner of Ollie’s mouth lifted in a quizzical smile. Joel realized he’d been staring. Or,they’dbeen staring. At each other.

Shit.

He looked away, flustered.Get a grip.Get a freakin’ grip, Joel Morgan.You donotneed this level of complication in your life.He cleared his throat. “You, ah, need a hand with anything or—?”

“I’m fine.” Ollie had turned away too and was shoving Rory’s wet clothes into the bottom of the stroller.

Joel kept his eyes away from the sight of the shorts stretching tight over Ollie’s backside and smiled at Rory instead. He hoped it didn’t look like a rictus. “You gonna help us pack everything up, Rory?”

He shrugged and said, “I’m hungry. Can I have a donut?”

“No, I’ve got a sandwich,” Ollie said from where he was rummaging around under the stroller.

“I don’t want a sandwich. I want a—”

“Not even peanut butter and jelly?” Ollie said, producing another plastic tub.

Rory’s face lit with a sudden grin—“Yay!”—and he held out both hands.

“Only because it’s the weekend,” Ollie explained to Joel as he handed over half the sandwich. “Normally he has something healthier. Like cheese or ham with—”

“Ham’s gross,” Rory said, taking a huge mouthful of sandwich, jelly oozing out between the slices of bread.

“It’s not gross,” Ollie sighed. “And be careful you don’t— Sh…oot!” He got a hand under the sandwich a moment before a dollop of jelly escaped. It landed with a gooey splat in his palm. “Okay, you know what? This was a mistake. Let’s get you outside before we end up having to pay to have the carpets cleaned.” He licked the jelly off his hand with one swipe of his tongue and—God help him—Joel felt a low thrum of interest below the belt. What the hell?

“I’ll get the stroller,” he said roughly, suddenly desperate to put some distance between them. “Let’s go.”

“I can manage—”

“I’ve got it!” The guy didnotlike accepting a helping hand. “You get the jelly monster out of here, I’ll bring Luis.”

Rory giggled and started capering around. “Jelly monster! Roaaar!”

“Rory!” Laughing and exasperated, Ollie grabbed his wrist, keeping his sticky little fingers under control as he shepherded him and his oozing sandwich out of the room. He threw a frazzled smile over his shoulder, “Thanks, Mr. Morgan.”

Hear that?

Mr. Morgan, the teacher. That’s who you are, and don’t you damn well forget it.

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