Caught Up in You - Beth Andrews

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      The second possibly she’d given him in under a minute. When it came to his kid, Eddie preferred definitely. “What else is there?”

      “There are other options.” She averted her gaze as she moved the stapler to the left only to put it back exactly where it had been. “But let’s not worry about any of that until we get through these first steps.”

      He had a child, was solely responsible for the well-being of another person. For making sure his son was healthy and happy and whole. It was his job to worry. And to get straight answers out of smiley, sunshiny teachers who were blowing smoke up his ass.

      “What options?”

      Her smile turned to steel. “Options we’ll discuss after Dr. Crosby has made her observation.”

      Nudging the paper forward, she held out the pen again.

      Eddie’s fingers tightened, crumpling the edges of the progress report. Frustration coursed through him, hot and edgy. But worse than that was the fear. The terrifying thought that if Max was diagnosed with ADHD, he’d spend the rest of his life wearing that label. His peers would judge him, would think he was deficient in some way. He’d be put into a box, one he’d never be able to escape from.

      Eddie wanted to slap the pen from Harper’s hand. Wipe his arm across the top of her desk, knocking aside the wooden holder so that pens and pencils scattered over the floor. He wanted to tell her in no uncertain terms what she could do with her observation, her opinion and her sympathetic expression.

      He looked at his son. Max was perfect, just the way he was. And Harper wanted some psychologist with more education than common sense to tell him there was something wrong with him? So Max would think he wasn’t smart enough? Capable enough? Good enough?

      There was only one response to that, one he was more than happy to give as he faced Harper.

      “No.”

      CHAPTER TWO

      HARPER KEPT THE PLEASANT, understanding smile on her face. But it cost her. Boy, did it cost her.

      Because Eddie Montesano, with his dark scowl, broad shoulders and cool hazel eyes, was getting on her last nerve. She’d spent the day surrounded by seven-and eight-year-olds who were alternately loud, whiny, cranky, happy, hilarious and fabulous. And most of them had better manners than this man.

      “I’m sorry,” she said, though she had nothing to apologize for. Honestly, the man should be the one begging her forgiveness. “No?”

      “I’m not signing that.”

      Her hand dropped to the desk with a thud. “Maybe I didn’t make myself clear—”

      “You did.”

      “Well, good. That’s good,” she said cheerily.

      She would remain cheery, polite, in control and, above all else, professional. Friendly. She’d watch her tongue and choose every word carefully. She had a habit—some said a bad one—of speaking her mind. Which was fine in her personal life, but in her professional one? Not so good.

      At least not according to Sam McNamara, Shady Grove Elementary School’s principal.

      She twisted her engagement ring. “Maybe you don’t understand how important it is—”

      “I’m not an idiot.”

      Something in his gruff tone, in his hard expression, gave her pause. Made her think she’d somehow insulted him. “I never thought—”

      “We’re done.”

      He stood. The man actually stood. And he’d dismissed her, as if he had the right to end this meeting. Stunned, she stared for a moment, her mouth slack, her mind reeling. She’d done everything right, the way it was supposed to be done. She’d talked to Max’s first-grade teacher, had checked his file to get more insight into his schoolwork the past two years. Then she’d met with both Julie Giron, the school’s guidance counselor, and Sam about her concerns, had gotten their go-ahead to bring up those concerns with Max’s father.

      The only way she’d veered away from the usual protocol in situations like this was by meeting with Eddie alone instead of with Julie and Sam. She’d thought Eddie would appreciate her discussing Max’s situation with him one-to-one.

      That was the last time she tried to be nice to someone just because they’d known each other since the first day of kindergarten and had relatives dating each other—his brother, her cousin.

      Hurrying around her desk, she stepped in front of him and smiled. Okay, it was more a baring of teeth, but surely she couldn’t be faulted for one tiny slipup.

      “Eddie, I’m not sure what the problem is,” she said, all faux conciliatory and apologetic. She checked on Max, who was still engrossed in his game. “I certainly didn’t mean to offend you in any way.”

      She waited. And what did she get for her patience? Nothing. Not even one of his nods or shrugs.

      Easy to see where Max got his reserve from.

      “It’s important that we assess what issues Max is having so he can overcome them and reach his highest potential.”

      “Why? So you can bump up the school’s test scores?”

      “This has nothing to do with standardized testing.” The bane of teachers everywhere. Luckily for her, they didn’t start testing kids until third grade. “It has to do with helping Max.”

      Her only priority.

      Eddie shifted closer, bringing with him the scent of sawdust. “Maybe this isn’t Max’s fault.”

      “I’m sorry. I’m having trouble following you.” Hard to believe seeing as how he used as few words as possible to get his point across, but there you had it.

      “If you did your job—did it better—Max wouldn’t be having problems.”

      Her vision assumed a definite red tint, her fingers curled around the stapler.

      She heard him, of course. He stood right before her, close enough for her to see the starburst of gold around his pupils, to notice that his right front tooth slightly overlapped the left. She even understood what he’d said as his meaning had been crystal clear. But his voice was like a roar in her head. A whooshing wave that swept away all her good intentions and drowned any hope she had of remaining professional.

      And it was all Eddie Montesano’s fault. She’d tried to be polite. To not let her growing frustration with him show. But did he appreciate her efforts or the great strength of willpower it’d taken her not to simply lift the stapler and hit him upside the head with it? Did he consider what was best for his son or care that all she wanted was to figure out how they could work together to help Max?

      No, no and triple no. He blamed her, accused her of not doing her job.

      Oh, yeah, all bets were officially off.

      “Max,” she called loudly, setting the stapler on her desk and peeling her fingers off it. She tucked her hands behind her back—just to be on the safe side.

      When Max looked up and took the headphones off, she forced her tone to remain light. Easy. No simple task when she was two seconds away from kicking his father in the shin. “Your dad and I will be in the hallway. Please wait here.”

      Eddie grabbed the sweatshirt and tugged it on. “I have nothing to say.”

      “That’s a shock,” she muttered. “It’ll only take a few minutes,” she assured him from between gritted teeth when his head became visible again.

      He glanced at Max, who watched them with wide eyes, obviously picking up on the tension in the room. Finally, Eddie brushed past her.

      Fuming so hard she lifted her hands to her ears to make sure steam wasn’t billowing

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