The Secret (Winslow Brothers 3)

The truth is, Remy’s been the father figure of our family practically all his life.

“So, I need to hold, then?”

“Yes, sweetheart, like I said, hold. Don’t sell. And if you’re smart, you’ll keep adding to your investment monthly.”

“I don’t know, man. I feel like you might be losing your edge—”

Rem chuckles, but I’m not listening anymore. Suddenly, all I can see are curves, topped with long dark hair and the sexiest soft green eyes on the planet.

Rachel Rose. In the flesh.

She walks into my lecture hall, ready for the first official class of ENG 101, and I’d be a liar if I said I haven’t been anticipating this part of the day since the instant I got out of bed this morning—hell, since she left my office yesterday.

Instead of greeting me directly, she keeps her head down and shuffles on her heels toward the far-right side of the room. She’s dressed in similar attire to yesterday—skirt, heels, and silk blouse—and my gaze doesn’t miss the way her perfectly rounded hips and ass move with each step she takes.

“Ty?” Remy’s voice grabs my attention, and I realize I’m still on the phone with him. “What are you doing?”

“Nothing, man. My class is about to start.”

“What are you looking at?” he questions, his brow furrowed as he searches my face. “Or should I say who are you—”

“I have to go,” I say and quickly end the call, tucking my phone into my pocket and jumping to my feet.

Rachel seems oblivious to my presence as she chooses the last seat in the front row and drops her belongings beside it. I look at my desk, push the book sitting by the edge with my fingers, and look back at Rachel as it hits the floor with a loud, unavoidable thud.

Rachel still doesn’t look up. Definitely avoiding me.

I probably shouldn’t find it so amusing that my teaching assistant won’t look me in the eye, but fuck if I’m not entertained.

“Hello, Rachel,” I greet, closing some of the distance between us. She offers a half smile as she sets up her laptop on the table in front of her seat and not much else.

I waggle my eyebrows, and she fakes an attempt at turning her half smile into a full one before verbally acknowledging me.

“Hello, Professor Winslow.” She’s all business, formal and professional, and her body language is as impenetrable as one of those shark-dive cages. For a guy like me, though, that does nothing but chum the waters.

I can’t let it go. I can’t move on. I can’t give her the distance and space I should. I have to chip away at the frostiness because I don’t do tense work environments—to be honest, Ty Winslow doesn’t do tense environments, period.

Besides two or three students who have managed to get to class early but choose to sit in the far back of the room, there’s no one else in the lecture hall besides us. I still have plenty of time and space to do my shark work.

“First day of classes going well for you?” I ask, getting close enough that our conversation is just between the two of us. I put a foot up to the small rise under the front row of stadium seats and box out the rest of the room.

She doesn’t even look up at me, her eyes staying fixated on the screen of her laptop as she offers a quiet, “Mm-hmm.”

Spotting the ring on her finger again, I try a different tack.

“What’s your mood today?”

Her fingers pause over the keyboard, and her eyes are full of attitude when she looks up at me. She knows what I’m working at, and instead of being embarrassed, she’s annoyed.

God, her strong sense of self is such a turn-on.

Rachel meets my eyes and then pointedly glances down at the ring on her hand, the one we are both acutely aware of. “Apparently, today, I’m green.”

“And green means?”

“Mixed emotions.”

I’ll be damned if I can’t relate to that. The emotions of my dick are in a very different place from the emotions of my brain. They can’t seem to agree on what to do with the strong, undeniable fantasies that involve my cock inside Nate’s daughter.

“Hmm…interesting,” I say and rub at my jawline with one hand. “You know, I haven’t seen a lot of women wearing mood rings before.”

“Really? Mood rings are pretty common,” she advises calmly, nearly making me laugh. Even with effort against it, a smile still makes its way on to my face.

More students start to file into the lecture hall, and Rachel goes back to whatever it is she’s doing on her laptop, pointedly evading me and my curious mouth. A large part of me wants to stay right where I am, but when I glance at my watch and see it’s time to start class, I decide to back off…for now.