Angel's Peak

Page 9

Franci had no trouble signing on to that deal. It was nice to have someone to dive with, to go on long runs with, even to have sex with. Up to that point, Franci hadn’t done any serious dating—just the occasional evening out with a work colleague, or one of the guys from her running club. For the first time in a long time, she’d been feeling content—she had her little girl, her mom, a job she loved and a guy. What a relief it was to feel settled and on track!
Since Franci hadn’t been associated with the college for long, the gossip about T.J. didn’t reach her right away. She’d already been going out with T.J. for a couple of months when she learned he was known as Professor Hottie by the coeds. She was completely amused by the nickname and teased him about it, but learned fast that he didn’t think it was so funny. He said the girls flirted with him shamelessly and it was the sort of thing that could lead to irresponsible talk—something that could cause a lot of trouble for a man. T.J. allowed that this kind of talk might have even contributed to his bitter divorce from a jealous wife years ago.
“Good grief, I hope your ex-wife didn’t cave into jealousy just because freshman girls have crushes on handsome professors! We all did. I had mine and I bet you even had yours,” she added with a laugh.
“Trust me—I never had an older woman professor who looked like you!” T.J. informed her enthusiastically.
“Aw. That’s sweet. You should just be flattered by the attention. Professor Hottie.”
“I am, as long as no harm is done,” he admitted.
In all seriousness, he came by the nickname honestly enough; T.J. was divinely handsome and had a very sexy smile. Franci had no trouble admitting that his smile was the first thing to catch her attention. She immediately dismissed the giggles and rumors as predictable and didn’t give them a second thought.
But then, just as Franci thought her life had begun to resemble something close to normal, who should show up but Sean? Now that she thought about it, Sean’s timing had always sucked, and she had a little three-year-old redhead to prove it.
Now, out of the blue, Franci was conscious of a little problem: When she thought of T.J., she wondered what they’d find to do next weekend—movie or dinner out or maybe a dive? But when she thought of Sean, all she wanted to do was take her clothes off.
When Franci told Sean she couldn’t meet him on Saturday she didn’t explain fully—she had a date that night with T.J. But after Sean threw her world into a spin, she really wasn’t in the mood for a date with anyone. And there was no way the date with T.J. could culminate in the usual way. She was much too distracted for that and considered canceling altogether. She complained to her mother of a headache.
“Take something,” Vivian said. “Rosie and I have a big slumber party planned at my house. Go out. Try having fun. Either stay out very late or have a slumber party of your own.” Then she had winked.
“Oh, Mother,” Franci said with humor.
“Take a couple of aspirin and enjoy yourself!”
Franci hadn’t mentioned Sean’s sudden reappearance in her life because she knew Vivian would work it like a hangnail. She’d start all that business about Franci’s responsibility to level with him; she’d want to force the paternity thing. Franci was struggling enough by herself without Vivian nagging about it. So, more to keep her mother out of her business than to spend a nice evening out, she kept her date.
T.J. came for her at six and, when she opened the door to him, she was immediately reminded why she’d agreed to that first date—damn, but he was a good-looking man. It wasn’t hard to understand why there was always a long list of females waiting to go on dive trips, or on research missions, with him. It hadn’t been that long since Franci had been a college coed. She’d had a crush of her own on her biology professor. It hadn’t gone anywhere beyond a few delicious fantasies, but if he’d been game, she would’ve crossed the line in a second.
“I’m taking you to a fantastic new restaurant up near the campus,” T.J. told her, once they were in the car. “They specialize in salmon for obvious reasons—it’s our local catch. They have a salmon fettuccini that will knock you out.”
“You know I don’t like salmon,” she reminded him.
“You’re the only diver and fisherman I know who won’t eat salmon,” he said. “Will you try it? We’re bound to find a salmon dish you love eventually.”
“Will you order something I like so we can trade if it doesn’t work out that way?” she countered.
He sighed. “Don’t I always order the best for both of us?”
“No.” She laughed. “You order two meals you like. There’s no point in even showing me a menu.”
“Do you get enough to eat?” he asked, a little irritation in his voice slipping through.
“Oh, always. You’re never stingy about it—and I love the appetizers and salads you pick. By the time we get to your main courses, I’m usually full, anyway.”
“That sounds slightly ungrateful, if you ask me,” he grumbled.
“Absolutely not!” And she laughed. “You order enough for four people and I’m always happy to let the doggie bag go home with you so you can enjoy it all over again! Really, T.J., you should review restaurants! Now let’s stop arguing over the menu before we even get to the restaurant. Tell me about the trip to Cabo.”
T.J. was more than happy to do that. As they made the quick drive north to Arcata, he talked about his recent diving trip to Cabo San Lucas. He’d gone with a group of instructors and students. It wasn’t clear from his conversation whether they’d gotten all their research done, but they’d had some great dives and had eaten at some fantastic Mexican restaurants. Altogether they had taken only sixteen students, twelve of them were women, he said.
And suddenly Franci asked, “Aren’t you ever tempted to sleep with them? The female students who worship you?”
He gave her a surprised look, which was followed by a huff of laughter and a shake of his head. “Franci? What the hell? I thought we went over that.” He grabbed her hand and gave it a squeeze. “Are you serious?”
“Curious,” she said. “I’m sorry, was that offensive?”
“Depends on the reason for your question. Did you hear something? Some gossip about me?”
“Nothing like that,” she said with a laugh. “But it must be difficult sometimes,” she said. “To be a single man thrown into so many situations with young women—like trips out of the country and on boats where you spend days at sea or anchored offshore. Probably surrounded by beautiful, nubile, irresistible young women who are sure you just walk on water and wouldn’t even have to think twice about—” She stopped before she really became offensive.
He frowned and gave her hand another squeeze. “It might be, if I were interested in any of them. I’m much more comfortable with women I can have a conversation with. I’m not interested in being with a college freshman or sophomore who’d be more than willing to help me lose my tenure.” He glanced at her. “Just in case you’re thinking of dipping into that well, it’s how you get fired. Messing with the student body—so to speak.”
“Oh, please,” she said with a laugh. “Not in a million years. But men are different.”
“Not that different. This is so strange, coming from you. You’ve never even brought it up before…”
“Sure I have,” she said. “It’s apparently well-known around the campus that the girls are hot for you. And you are a bachelor…”
“Be careful you don’t start to sound like Glynnis, the ex. She was obsessed by my female students, especially after she’d had children and didn’t feel as comfortable in a bikini.” He grinned at her. “For a woman who’s had a child, you sure didn’t lose your bikini body!”
“Well, that’s exactly what brought it to mind,” Franci said. “That you’re out of the country with a dozen beautiful, barely dressed eighteen-year-old women who think you’re nothing less than a god, and…” She cleared her throat. “I would imagine it has its distracting moments…”
He chuckled. “You’ve never once asked me a serious question about how I handle that situation. Just so you know, I have to go to a lot of trouble to keep things on the up-and-up. I have an assistant or associate professor on hand at all times. I can’t visit with female students in my office behind closed doors. If the door is closed for a meeting, a teaching assistant is right outside. On trips, everyone is assigned a buddy or two—I only travel in groups. Seriously, the first time I touch one of them, she’ll be the one to scream foul and get me fired.”
“But aren’t you tempted?”
“I’m actually made of flesh and bone, Franci—of course I’ve been tempted. Not in the past several months, however,” he added with a smile. “Now what brought this on? You aren’t jealous, are you? Are you worried about being completely safe with me? Because not only are we careful, I told you I’ve been screened and I—”
She laughed uncomfortably. “Not at all, T.J. It just occurred to me. You’re back from a week in Cabo, had a great, fun time away from all the prying eyes, and I wondered.”
“I’m aware there’s gossip from time to time and there doesn’t seem to be anything I can do but ignore it. Believe me, if there was any truth to the rumors about my behavior with the young women on campus, someone would have caught me with my pants down by now.” He laughed again. “You give me credibility. Having a steady woman with your looks and brains has slowed a lot of that idle bullshit down to nothing.”
“My pleasure,” she said.
“Paranoia about all my potential affairs kept my ex-wife up nights, but it’s pretty new coming from you. I’m only human. But I’m smart enough to know better.”
“Bronson married his student—she was nineteen to his forty,” she pointed out, speaking of another one of the professors.
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t show so well on him. I’d rather not be that kind of legend.” He grinned at her. “Besides, that’s not what I’m after. If you came with us on a dive trip, the only kind of talk you’d hear would be about the two professors rocking the boat.”
“That could be fun, T.J.,” she said. “One of these days you’ll throw out an invitation for me to go with you on a specific trip and I’ll shock you by saying yes.”
“It’s a deal!” he returned enthusiastically. “The next good one, you’re coming with me. With us,” he amended. “Me and the students.”
“Where are you going next?”
“I’m putting together a trip to Kino Bay, Mexico—a nice little shrimp town. I’m saving you for a more exotic trip, so be patient. But before Kino Bay can be accomplished, there’s a coral study to finish—that’s about five days offshore…”
Having effectively kept the subject on him, Franci was able to listen more than she talked. They got to the restaurant, were seated right away and he ordered wine for them. He was the expert at that, as well, she thought, but she didn’t mind. It seemed only moments before the salads arrived and T.J. was still second-guessing whether they’d made the right choice for their appetizers. She hoped he wouldn’t change his mind—she didn’t care if he ordered for her, but she hated it when he caused a lot of trouble for the waitstaff. Plus, she was looking forward to the crab-stuffed mushrooms; that and the salad might be all she enjoyed of this dinner. She really didn’t like salmon, and to night T.J. had insisted upon it. But dinner out, for T.J., was a constant negotiation, a complicated ordering process. She got a kick out of it, but he took it way too seriously.