Moving Man Ch. 01

The long anticipated day of moving had finally arrived; the new school was finished and the staff at Cherry Creek School were making the move to their freshly completed classrooms. Excitement permeated every corner of the two buildings, old and new, as students, parents, teachers and movers gathered, carried and deposited the teaching materials into their new home. Kayla Larimer, one of the middle school teachers, was enjoying every minute of this day.

In her eleventh year of teaching, Kayla felt as if she were a seven-year-old awakening on Christmas morning eager to open Santa's presents. Dressed as she was in bib overalls and a pink eyelet shirt, Kayla almost looked like one of the many helpful kids dashing back and forth. Being only five foot three, her height deceived many into mistaking her for a teen. The long, sable brown ponytail held high on the back of her head only added to the misleading image. Dark, thick eyelashes that laughed at the thought of mascara surrounded slightly tipped emerald eyes; smooth, pale skin splattered with freckles across her nose and cheeks.

Kayla was currently in her classroom standing atop a stool straining to release the plants hanging from the ceiling. Holding her breath, her weight shifted, the stool wobbled and she prepared herself for the fall she knew was coming, but never happened. Strong hands wrapped tightly around her slender waist, pulling her abruptly from the stool, and gently setting her on the floor. Heart pounding she turned to confront the intruder and found herself forced to look up, and up, and up into the most handsome face Kayla had ever seen. Olive skin stretched tightly over the man's high cheekbones encasing dark chocolate eyes, which blazed angrily down at her. His firm, lush lips pinched tight in upset. Shiny black hair, a touch long for current standards, surrounded his magnificent features.

"What do you think you're doing?" he demanded in a husky baritone.

Not sure about the source of his displeasure, she cautiously replied, "I'm taking down my plants so they can be moved to the new school."

Kayla had never seen this man before nor did she understand how he could act in such a proprietary manner upon their first meeting. The stranger towered over her, his height reaching four or five inches over six feet, only a tiny breathing space separated them as he had yet to release her waist. His male scent, tangy soap and musky man, permeated her senses.

"Don't you know any better than to stand on a shaky stool, woman?" came his harsh reply, eyes narrowing, hands clenching on her narrow waist.

Never one to take criticism well, Kayla's temper ignited quickly. Still held within his grasp, she bristled at his tone as well as words.

"First, I don't know who you are, but I am fully capable of caring for myself. Second, I don't appreciate your manhandling of me. Kindly remove your hands." She tried pulling herself free without success, his hold secure though not painful. "And third, who the heck are you?"

Smirking, he replied simply, "Caleb."

* * * * * *

While gazing into the face of the woman he held, Caleb's smile slowly faded. He recalled the first time he'd seen Kayla at a fall school celebration several months ago, his attraction to her swift and intense. She'd been dressed in a snug, shimmering red sweater that showed just a hint of cleavage. Her calf-length black suede skirt swirled as she walked gracefully on two-inch, open-toed high-heels. Kayla had been standing with a group of parents, laughing and radiant.

Although not beautiful in the classic sense, her curvaceous body, brilliant green eyes and vivacious personality were very appealing. In this small school and tight-knit community it wasn't hard for Caleb to learn more about the enticing teacher. Over the past couple of months, he was able to learn quite a bit, and liked what he discovered.

Belatedly Caleb realized that finding her in danger from falling off the stool had made him forget that she didn't have any knowledge of him, nor possess the same feelings of belonging he did himself. He'd reacted on instinct to save his woman from harm, only she didn't know yet she belonged to him. He decided it was time she learned.

Releasing her slowly, he crossed his arms over his chest; his stance reeked of dominance and decisiveness, an obvious alpha male. As she hastily stepped back, his features tightened even more in displeasure.

"I won't tolerate your taking chances with your safety." Caleb declared, eyes sharp and completely unyielding.

Stupefied Kayla stuttered, "You won't allow? You won't allow!" She couldn't believe the gall of this man.

Caleb stared at her but remained silent.

"You are way out of line," she managed to gasp.

Ignoring her declaration, Caleb issued his own statement, "Consider this your only warning. Do something foolish again and you will be punished."

Climbing onto a chair, Caleb retrieved the remaining plants. He placed them on a nearby table then turned on his heel, grabbed a stack of boxes, and left the room. Stunned, Kayla remained rooted in place.

"Did he really say I would be punished?" she whispered hoarsely.

For the remainder of the afternoon, Kayla worked on autopilot, her mind caught up in the repeated play-by-play of her encounter with Caleb. Who was this guy? Where did he come from? Punish? How dare he! These thoughts playing over and over in her mind like a broken record.

Kayla repeatedly tried to block the images of his well-formed body from her mind, but it was no use. His tall frame, sculptured chest, large-muscled arms, trim waist and long, strong legs persisted in flickering across her vision. When he'd crossed his arms over his chest, the corded muscles in his biceps and forearms positively rippled. Kayla gave an involuntary sign. She recalled in vivid detail the feel of his large, tapered fingers firmly grasping her waist when he'd pulled her from the stool. She could well imagine how they would feel on other parts of her body, and she found herself longing for that imagined touch. He was an extremely attractive man, she thought, if only he didn't have such an attitude.

* * * * * * *

Two weeks later Kayla was still trying to sort out the boxes in her new classroom. What a mess! Having thought she'd done a good job of packing and marking her materials, some of her supplies continued to be evasive. Wanting a mental break from unpacking, Kayla decided to hang the plants in their home. Falling back on old habits, she grabbed the stool, climbed aboard, and immediately thought of Caleb.

She'd seen him several times over the past couple of weeks, each meeting brief but potent. He was like an oversized magnet and she a bundle of thin, soft, pliant metal; each pulling toward the other abruptly, almost harshly. Kayla continued hanging plants as she reminisced over their chance meetings.

Caleb, in the doorway to Kayla's classroom with legs spread wide and arms across his chest, watched her climb onto the stool with plant in hand. He waited until she was again standing safely on the floor before growling.

"I told you not to climb on that stool."

Kayla jumped in surprise then warily turned to face the unyielding man whose body language radiated irritation. Maybe not responding would be the best choice, Kayla thought to herself, especially since she was shaking so hard she was afraid her voice might not quite be steady. Caleb's intensely gazed at her as if he believed he could stare her into compliance.

"Did I not make myself clear?" he demanded in a low, sardonic tone, eyebrows raised. Standing as he was, voice demanding and harsh, Caleb was an intimidating man, one she wasn't sure she wanted to challenge.

"Yes." Kayla's voice trembled.

"I believe it's time you and I had a private conversation." He gestured toward the door with his arm, "Shall we go?"

Kayla didn't move knowing he used "conversation" as a euphemism. She remembered clearly that he threatened to punish her and shuddered with that realization.

Caleb held his arm out a minute longer then slowly brought it back, this time tucking his hands into his front pockets. He knew she was frightened. However, he also recognized that she was as drawn to him as he was to her, regardless of how many times they had met, which admittedly were few.

Not allowing his impatience to show, Caleb debated the best course of action. Should he push her or retreat? Deciding it was time to push a little, he slowly began, "Are you really afraid of me?"

Eyes wide, Kayla hesitated acknowledging that although she definitely felt daunted.

"No, I'm not really afraid of you, . . . exactly." she softly conceded. Hoping her honesty would provide her the opportunity to avoid a confrontation, she held his gaze, unconsciously pleading with her eyes. Caleb read the plea in her eyes, but refused to back down.

"Then why won't you come with me?" he demanded.

"You said you were going to punish me!"