Jaded by Varina Denman Read Free Book Online Page B

crying out loud. Why would I want to anyway? This man was the preacher. The last person on earth I should be casing. I glanced back to his face—a safe place to rest my gaze—but his eyes seemed to be making a slow circuit from my forehead to my ear to my chin. I might not have dated often or lately, but I recognized that look.
    Disgust welled inside me, and I had the urge to spit in his face. Did he think because of Momma’s reputation, I would melt into his arms like common trash? I gritted my teeth.
    He took a step back and coughed. “Thanks for the tour, Miss Turner. I’d better look over my lesson plans before the students arrive.”
    â€œProbably a good idea.” I spun on my heel and marched back to the office.

Chapter Six
    My jack-of-all-trades job at the school kept me running across our small campus, sometimes from the elementary building all the way to the middle school, but at lunchtime I always made it back to the high school teachers’ lounge to eat my sack lunch with JohnScott. Typically, only a handful of teachers joined us, since most ate in their classrooms, but on that day, at least eight showed up to check out the new math teacher.
    When Dodd entered the room carrying a Dr Pepper and a cafeteria hamburger, he glanced at me. His eye contact sent a shiver across my shoulders, but I ignored it and unwrapped my tuna sandwich. The preacher’s pretty face may have given me a gut reaction, but his alleged faith rendered a much stronger negative one.
    My idiot cousin called to him. “Hey, Dodd Cunningham, new math teacher. Meet Lonnie Lombard, old ag teacher.”
    â€œI’m not that old.” The ag teacher, sitting across from JohnScott, reached up to shake Dodd’s hand. “Not much older than you, JohnScott. And even if I was, I look younger by a long shot.”
    JohnScott rubbed the top of Lonnie’s bald head. “You keep telling yourself that.”
    Lonnie laughed. “Dodd, have a seat, why don’t ya?”
    I glared at my tuna. If Dodd sat down with us, I would fabricate a stomachache and leave.
    He hesitated. “Thank you, but I believe someone’s keeping an open seat for me at the back table.”
    â€œWell, don’t be a stranger,” JohnScott said. “Come back and visit occasionally.”
    As Dodd walked away, JohnScott gave me a disapproving frown. I knew what my cousin was thinking. Even though the preacher somehow reminded me of thirteen years of animosity with the church, JohnScott would insist I treat the man civilly. I didn’t intend to be rude, but I certainly planned to keep a comfortable distance, so I looked straight into JohnScott’s eyes and bit my sandwich forcefully.
    Dodd sat at the back table, surrounded by women, only one of whom was single. Maria Fuentes, the thirty-something Family and Consumer Science teacher, appeared to be working a plan. The rest of the women exhibited curiosity laced with self-control that prevented them from gawking.
    Sipping my canned Sprite, I studied the man. Maybe he was more attractive than I’d given him credit for. His hair had that nice, almost-curly look—even if it did need a trim—and his clothes suited him. The black polo set off his dark hair.
    The preacher’s eyes met mine, and he returned my smile.
    Horrified, I immediately scowled, but much to my irritation, his demeanor only faded slightly and took on an amused tint.
    Turning to JohnScott and Lonnie, I focused on their discussion with rapt attention. My cousin and I spent many lunch hours with the ag teacher, who loved to needle our conservative views, so it only took a few seconds for me to catch the gist of their debate. Today’s topic was World War II Germany.
    â€œâ€¦ but the Nazis thought they were doing the right thing.” Lonnie laughed as he spoke to JohnScott. “They had good intentions and were honestly trying to make the world a better place. They were nuts,