She grimaced as she wriggled in her seat. "No. Thanks."
"Need us to drive you home?"
"I really must head in there. I have conferences scheduled."
"Then the school should have salted the parking lot better." Storm’s smile was grim. "I’d sue the jackasses."
Ms. Shawnee snickered out a laugh which morphed into a groan. "I’m sure that would really make them fall for me. They already don’t like my brand of teaching." Though curious, I didn’t get to ask her what she taught because her phone buzzed. "Damn. That’s the administrator. Thanks again, Mr. and Mrs. O’Shea. I really appreciate you helping me out."
"At least let me take you to the front door," Storm argued, and maybe she heard the implacable stance in his words because she seemed to take measure of the distance between her car and the door, then Storm’s bulk, before she ultimately nodded.
"Only if it wouldn’t be an inconvenience."
Storm snorted. "You arguing with me over it would have been more of an inconvenience."
I smiled as he gathered her into his arms. I locked up the car behind her, then trudged alongside him, being careful to watch out for slick patches, then, as he deposited her at the front door, I handed her her purse and keys.
People gathered around when they saw him carrying her, and I caught sight of a few men in Sinners’ cuts who eyed their Prez in surprise. Ms. Shawnee was absorbed into the crowd after Storm let her down.
"Well, that calmed my temper," I muttered dryly as I stared around the front hall.
Storm’s arm settled around my shoulders, and I had to admit, I snuggled into him. God, he was warm. Toasty like we weren’t standing outside, whereas I was freezing.
Huddling into his side, I didn’t flinch when he remarked, "You were fantastic in there."
My nose crinkled. "Not really. I gave him shit when I know Cyan can be difficult."
"You and I both saw the change in her when we walked through those doors," he pointed out. "That’s not right."
"No, it wasn’t," I agreed.
"You mean what you said about homeschooling?"
I pulled a face. "That was definitely a spur of the moment decision… I’m sorry. I should have consulted you."
"I think it would be a great idea."
"You do?"
"I do. You always were good at teaching her things."
"Back when she was a toddler," I scoffed.
"You happy working at the diner?"
I bit my lip. "I like it. It gets me out of the house and I’m starting to make friends."
"No need for you to stop doing that entirely then. Cyan can always sit in a booth and do some of her classes there if you really want to make it work. Or she could come to the clubhouse. Don’t see why she can’t sit in my office with me and do some studying there."
I blinked up at him. "People have sex at the clubhouse."
"Not all the time," he said with a short laugh. "Plus, it’s not like the West Orange chapter. When there are parties, it’s free reign. But not here. There are too many Old Ladies wandering around. Plus, we’re changing the layout. On a certain someone’s advice…"
My cheeks turned pink, and it had nothing to do with the cold. Then, a thought whispered into my mind. "Why did she talk to you about the whole ‘whore’ thing? Why didn’t she come to me?"
He winced. "Noticed that, did you?"
"I did," I confirmed huskily.
A breath gusted from his lips, leaving a cloud of steam behind as he muttered, "We should get out of here."
I tugged on the sleeve of his jacket. "No. We need to talk about this."
He grimaced. "Someone called you that back in West Orange. I think it’s become a trigger word for her. She’s defending you—"
"I know that. But who’d—" My mouth worked. "My dad? Mom?"
"I’m sorry, honey."
I swallowed, trying to accept that after all these years of not talking, he could still call me that. After all these years of marriage, that was the one noun he used to describe me.
"Other Sinners’ kids have settled in here," Storm pointed out softly, changing the subject, I guessed. "If you’ve changed your mind now—"
"Cyan’s not other kids," was my gruff reply. "I don’t think—" I sucked in a breath. "I’m different, Storm. I used to think that I wanted to be a nurse, so I looked into all the courses, but it was just so complicated that it blew my mind. The cut off date to enroll was weeks ago, so I told myself I’d think about it, only I still don’t know what I’m doing—"
"You’re wondering if this is you procrastinating?"
"Yes? No?" I sighed. "I don’t know. Maybe? I’ve never wanted to be a teacher, and Cyan and I lock horns all the time. She’d probably never learn anything if I was homeschooling her."
He squeezed my arm and pressed a kiss to my crown. "Keira, one thing I’ve learned about you, once you’ve got something in your mind, you’ll figure out a way to make it happen. Whether that’s being a nurse or homeschooling our kid." His nose rubbed against my hairline. "You should probably remember, though, that you wanted to be a nurse when you were a different person.
"You’re not the same Keira as the one I met at eighteen, just like I’m not the same Storm, and that’s perfectly fine. You’re allowed to change. Your goals are allowed to divert course."
"Nursing is a vocation, Storm. It’s not something you’re supposed to want to give up."
A laugh escaped him. "I’m pretty sure that every single nurse who finishes school doesn’t stay a nurse forever."
"She’s an A- student. What if I make her worse?"
"Maybe she’ll be an A+ student if you teach her. You saw that anxiety that riddled her when we walked through those doors. That has to be affecting her studies. Maybe she’s not doing as well as she could be doing because she’s so stressed all the time?"
Did he know how he empowered me? I knew he wasn’t blowing smoke up my ass—he believed in me. More than I did, that was for sure.
"Do you think I could do it?"
"I don’t just think it, I know it, and you wouldn’t be doing it alone." When I peered up at him, he smiled, then he lowered his head and pressed his lips to my nose. I gulped, my eyes prickling with tears at the tender gesture. "I used to be boss at geography. Sciences," he said with a grimace, "less so. History, I’m your guy. Math, I was really good at, and I could write the shit out of a story in English."
My smile grew. "Really?"
"Really," he confirmed with a laugh. "Ms. Keira, are you stereotyping me when you know I appreciate Shakespeare?"
I literally ‘felt’ the twinkle in my eyes. "Maybe. I mean, I know you’re smart as hell, but I never thought English Class would be your thing. Not with all the ‘ain’t’s you drop."
He tapped his nose. "Lots of uncharted waters for us both to uncover still, honey. That’s good."