Teacher's Pet

"Without his checkbook?" I snorted.

Her bare foot crushed the arch of mine. "Stop being so stubborn. You're just like him. I can't believe he hasn't told you that he's in A.A."

"What?"

Alice breezed away from me and called out. "Lovely stew simmering, isn't it? We'll have it for dinner with some nice, fresh bread."

"Not unless you follow it up with a ten-day course of antibiotics," my father said. "I know there's a resort nearby that has a five-star restaurant."

My mother flapped down the hill like a bird to argue with my father. I was mesmerized by their amused smiles as they fired clever reasons and defenses at each other. I wanted to resist it, but there was something so comforting in watching my parents get along with each other.

Corsica stepped aside and gave my mother a nervous glance. Then, she stumbled in her black-heeled sandals as she climbed up the slope to join me. "I overheard there's a bus depot not far from here. I'll fake some roommate emergency."

I shook my head and laughed. "No one's going to buy that."

"So, why are they buying that we're a couple?" Corsica pinned me with a desperate look.

I didn't have an answer for her, and even if I did, it would have been lost in the blue sky of her gaze. I held out my hand and chuckled when she slipped into my arms.

"Thanks for making me look good," I said.

"Are you sure it's working?" Corsica batted my overgrown beard away from her cheek. "I think your mother hates me."

"I told you, Alice has a way of seeing right through people."

"Yeah, well, it doesn't take the power of special sight for me to see I'm not welcome here." Corsica straightened her shoulders under my arm. "Besides, it looks like Mr. Templeton will be a good enough distraction. What's the story with those two, anyway?"

"A long one," I said.

"Let me guess. They were high school sweethearts, but you still don't like seeing anyone flirting with your mother."

I nudged Corsica with my hip. "I dare you to come to dinner and ask my mother what she was like in high school."

"See? I knew she didn't want me here. You're just teasing me."

I brushed back her hair and leaned down. My breath tickled the softly scented skin along her neck. "No. This is teasing you."

Corsica shivered as I pressed a light kiss on her fragrant skin. "What are you doing?"

"I don't know. I like you."

She shrugged and then tipped her chin up. "Sorry. Doesn't matter if you like me. You came to see your mother, and she most certainly does not like me."

I glanced up to see my mother watching us. Alice hid her smile when I caught her and then tossed her wild, dark hair. "I suppose our little princess up there needs a place with linen napkins; otherwise, she'll faint."

"Perhaps somewhere with a piano," my father added.

Alice's ears perked up. "She’s musical? Well, then, that settles it. We're staying here. There are no better acoustics anywhere than the canyon."

"What is she saying? What's happening?" Corsica clung to my side.

My father took my mother's arm and helped her up the hill. Her face was flush with the effort, but she waved away everyone's concern. "Don't worry, princess. I'm sure those good manners will shield you from actually enjoying yourself."

Corsica straightened up with sudden defiance, tossed her hair, and smiled. "Stew around a campfire sounds lovely, Mrs. Brightwater. Thank you."

Chapter Seven

Corsica