The first time I saw Will Munroe I had him pegged as a typical LA douchebag—a little too handsome, a little too rich, a little too into his probiotic kale smoothies. The next time I ran into him—at his daughter’s parent/teacher conference (me: teacher, he: parent)—I noticed his steel grey eyes, his hard chest under a crisp white button down, and his suggestively bare ring finger. I was hooked.

If life really imitated art, he’d have swept me off my feet and taken me right there on the principal's desk. Instead, we are stuck in our assigned roles. He’s the workaholic single dad of a precocious girl child, and I’m her fiery substitute teacher. Never the two shall meet. Enter one zany, yurt-dwelling ex-wife, a stock market that never sleeps, and some over-the-top, A-list fundraisers, and I've got plenty of drama ahead. Better to keep my hands to myself.

But when Will asks me out for a pancake breakfast, how can I resist? My heart (and my stomach) say yes, but am I willing to risk my job for a short stack and a romp in the hay? A slow, sensual, mind-blowing romp in the hay…

But where there’s a Will…



I’m asking for a tissue when he sweeps me up into his arms and kisses me. His mouth covers mine, nothing tentative about it. It’s a masterful kiss, him claiming my mouth over and over again. My arms twine around his neck, when what I should be doing is pushing him away with a Scarlett O’Hara “I do dee-clayah! Mr. Munroe!” But I don’t. Instead, I pull him closer, feeling the scrape of his stubble against my cheek. He tastes like breath mints from heaven, or something else celestial and minty fresh. When we finally pull apart—which body does not want, but brain insists on—I find I can finally exhale. Will lowers me back to the ground like I’m floating back out of a dream, back to my job and the school and…the fact that I’m still doing my job at the school.

While snogging a parent.

Snogging’s a great word.
Okay, brain. Let’s get back to it.

“That was…” Will’s voice trails off. The tone is deep, rugged, sexy.