Mack Daddy(2)

Opting not to look him in the eyes any longer, my gaze travelled down to his large hands and the veins protruding from them. The recollection of what it had felt like to wrap my fingers in his was clear as day.

It suddenly hit me that Mack was the DILF Lorelai had been referring to. For the first and only time, she hadn’t been exaggerating about how incredibly good-looking someone was.

His tone was demanding. “Look at me, Frankie.” When I didn’t listen, he repeated, “Look at me.”

I lifted my head. To look him in the face was truly painful, triggering an onslaught of memories I preferred to keep at bay. One thing was for certain: the grown man standing before me was far more confident than the guy whom I’d last seen with tears in his eyes.

“I don’t understand. How is this possible? What are you doing here at my school?”

He slowly approached me, causing my skin to heat. “We live here now—in Massachusetts.”

We live here.

Who was ‘we’ exactly?

My heart was thumping out of my chest in a mix of fear and an oddly disconcerting excitement that I didn’t quite understand.

The wheels were turning in my head. I remembered looking at the class list and noticing a Jonah Morrison. The last name freaked me out a little, but I never could have imagined in a million years that it was Mack’s son.

“Moses never told me you were living here in Boston.”

“I know. I told him I wanted to be the one to tell you about the move.”

I stepped back a bit, too overwhelmed by the closeness of his body and the realization that he smelled the same, that his earthy scent still caused my body to have the same reaction it always had.

My eyes wandered to the corner of the room, where out of process of elimination I identified Mack’s little boy.

His son.

Oh, my God.

Mack seemed to notice where I was looking and allowed me a moment to take it all in. I could feel him watching me watching his kid.

Jonah was a bit scrawny. Through his thick glasses, I could see that he had his father’s hazel eyes but otherwise looked more like his mother. His head full of kinky curls was a darker shade of brown than Mack’s.

My eyes returned to meet his when I asked, “How did your son end up in my class?”

“If I told you it was a coincidence, would you believe me?”

“No.”

“Well, it’s not,” he was quick to admit.

“Why? Why are you doing this? Why didn’t you warn me?”

“Would it have made it any easier?”

“No,” I whispered.

“We came to the orientation. You weren’t there. I was hoping to have this happen then, not on the first day of school.”

I wasn’t sure if by ‘we’ he meant him and Jonah or him and his wife. Or was it his girlfriend? Were they even still together? I had no clue.

My heart was pounding even harder at the thought of having to meet Jonah’s mother, Torrie. “Where’s his mother?”

“She has to be at work early in the morning. I’ll be picking him up to take him to school every day since I work from home.”

It was all too much. I started to walk away. “You’ll have to excuse me. I have to attend to my students.”

The kids were talking among themselves, making a racket, and oblivious to what was going on with Mack and me.

He followed close behind. “I know this is a shock.”

“You think?” I quipped, before turning around to face him again.

“Let me just introduce you to Jonah. Then I’ll leave.” He walked over to the boy, who was seated and messing with his lunch box. Although I’d never met Torrie in person, I’d seen pictures and knew she was multi-racial, a beautiful mix of black and white. Jonah’s skin was olive-toned, somewhere in between Torrie and Mack’s complexions.

“Jonah, this is your teacher, Frankie.”

“Miss O’Hara,” I quickly corrected. “Francesca O’Hara. It’s nice to meet you, Jonah.”

The boy wouldn’t look me in the eye and began to fidget.

Seemingly embarrassed by his son’s behavior, Mack raised his voice. “Jonah! Frankie is talking to you,” he said, clearly ignoring my request to be addressed more formally.

The kid’s face turned beet red. “Hi,” he finally said while reluctantly lifting his head to look at me.

“It’s great to meet you. Welcome to St. Matthew’s.”

Actually, I’m terrified to meet you.

Mack was the only parent left in the room, and we were already behind schedule.

Lorelai’s eyes were glued to the two of us. A smug grin spread across her face when she mouthed “DILF” as if I didn’t know it was Mack she’d been referring to earlier. Then, her eyes landed on Mack’s ass before she gave me a thumbs-up. His back was facing her, so he had no clue.