Jaxon points to his bruised eye. “Would you believe your granddaughter gave me this shiner?”

Both Grandma and Neil’s mouths fall open. “Well, I suspect you deserved it if that’s true,” Grandma says.

I laugh and wrap my arm around her shoulders. “Damn straight he deserved it.”

Samuel grins as he signs.

Jaxon shakes his head, smiling. “He said he likes you, Raegan. You’ve got spunk.”

“She gets that from me,” Grandma says.

I giggle. “Tell him I like him much more than his grandson.”

Jaxon clutches his chest. “That hurt.”

I roll my eyes. “Well, we were just about to leave. Enjoy your swim time.”

Jaxon winks. “See you on Monday, Ms. Donahue.”

I wave good bye to Samuel, and swim to the steps. Grandma takes my hand and leans on Neil for support as we help her out of the pool.

“Your boss is totally checking you out,” Neil whispers.

I wrap Grandma in a towel. “He is not.”

“Hand to God, he hasn’t taken his eyes off you since you got out of the pool.”

“Raegan, that boy is very charming.” Grandma touches her hand to my cheek. “Much nicer than that loser, Andrew.”

“He’s not as nice as he seems,” I murmur.

I’m about to wrap my towel around my body, but think better of it. Jaxon wants to play games? Fine. Eat your heart out, Fuckwad.

I sling the towel over my arm and strut past Jaxon with my head held high.

I don’t think about him for the rest of the day.

Not one single thought.

Not about how adorable he looked signing with his grandfather.

Or about how ridiculously hot he looked without a shirt on.

Not even about the way the water droplets ran down his tan, toned body …

Okay, who am I kidding? That’s all I thought about.

There’s definitely something wrong with me.

Days Left Until Summer Break: 153

Jaxon

Seeing Raegan dripping wet in that turquoise bikini has done nothing to help my sex dreams.

Not dreams.

Nightmares.

They’re nightmares. Let’s get that straight.

At least that’s what I keep telling myself.

Fantasizing about Raegan is the last thing I need on top of all the stress at work. It’s after three-thirty. School’s over, yet I’ll likely be in this office until after the sun goes down. Again.

I glance out the window when a flash of blond hair catches my eye. Raegan’s sitting on the bench outside with a little girl.

What’s she still doing here? I throw on my jacket and exit through the double doors.

Outside my stride screeches to a halt. Raegan’s hand is up, and she’s moving her fingers in different positions. Her student, a girl named Peyton, lifts her hand to copy what Raegan did.

Raegan is teaching her Sign Language.