Without Mercy - Lisa Jackson [71]
Jules’s heart clutched as she squinted against the swirling snow.
She told herself she was imagining things. She had to be.
Cooper Trent was not crossing the parking lot!
Not in a million years.
Her tired, distraught mind was just playing tricks on her.
Nonetheless, her heart was trip-hammering, her pulse jumping, her nerves strung to the breaking point.
It was just her subconscious dragging him up again as it did in her nightmares, or her headache giving her eyestrain.
He was out of her life.
As in forever.
Right?
It couldn’t be.
No way, no how.
But no amount of denial could erase the fact that Cooper Trent now stood outside her car, looking better than any man had a right to look and acting as if the past five years were just a heartbeat.
Gone were the dusty chaps, ratty old Stetson, and cocky cowboy grin. Instead he wore faded Levi’s, a pair of worn boots, and a sheepskin jacket. Bareheaded, snow collecting in his hair, he stared downward.
Her foolish heart knocked.
“What the hell are you doing here?” she demanded through the open window.
He hesitated a second, glanced over his shoulder to make sure the deputy couldn’t hear him, then met her gaze again. “You know, Jules,” he drawled in a low voice she’d once found so sexy it had turned her inside out, “that’s just what I was gonna ask you.”
CHAPTER 18
Jules decided that the nightmare had just taken a turn for the worse. What were the odds? Out of the billions of people in the world, how did she end up face-to-face with the one man she’d never wanted to see again?
So God did have a sense of humor after all.
And a wicked one at that.
“You know why I’m here,” Jules said. “Someone—probably Dean Hammersley—sent you to get me.”
“That she did. And that’s when she dropped the bomb that you were the new history teacher.”
“Perfect,” she said with sarcasm as bitter as the wind chasing down the mountainside.
“And the funny thing about that,” Trent observed, “is, I’ve already got a job here.”
“Yeah, real funny,” she said. “You’re not listed on the Web site.”
“They’re updating. I’m the newest person on staff. Well, I was until you showed up.”
Great, just damned great! All her scheming and plotting and lying were for nothing. She’d been afraid that Shaylee might blow her cover or that Lynch’s wife might figure out that she was related to Shaylee, but she hadn’t thought—couldn’t imagine—that Cooper Trent would be here. She rolled up the window, opened the door, and stepped onto the icy parking lot where the wind, like a frigid knife, cut through her jacket. “I didn’t see that they were teaching bronc busting or bull riding down here, so what’s your job?”
“I’m the phys ed teacher.”
“Why?” she demanded, wondering why her pulse still pounded at the sight of him. “The rodeo circuit run out of bulls?”
“Change of profession.”
“Oh, right. You traded in your spurs for Nikes. Don’t think so.”
Deputy Meeker glanced over at them. Frowning, he started heading across the lot again.
“Don’t ruin this for me,” she whispered. “I need this job.”
“Deal. You do the same.” He was waiting. When she didn’t respond, he added, “Does Lynch know your sister is one of the students? I think there’s some rule against family members—”
“Shh!” she warned, feeling heat in her cheeks. She had to stay cool, to calm down. She couldn’t blow it with the deputy.
“Is there a problem, Officer?” Trent asked, and it was all Jules could do not to kick him in the shins. Instead, she pasted on a smile that she didn’t feel.
“Just checkin’,” the deputy said, and handed Jules back her ID. “Your license expired two days ago.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been busy. I thought once I moved down here and took the job and had a permanent address I’d renew it.” Oh, God,