The Lost Sheenan's Bride (Taming of the Sheenans Book 6) by Jane Porter Page B
Authors: Jane Porter
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haven’t been here for any of the big events, I’ve been told that the Christmas play and spring picnic and eighth grade graduation are all huge events, drawing people for miles. Apparently everyone in the valley comes, not just the students’ families, but the entire community because this school is the heart of the community, and it keeps everyone connected.”
“I would think the local churches serve that purpose.”
“But the churches are divided into denominations, and this isn’t about a denomination, but the families that live here and call Paradise Valley home. Nearly every student here has a parent who attended this school, and those parents’ parents came here, and so it goes, stretching back four and five generations.”
He watched her face as she talked. She was pretty and fresh and animated and he could imagine how her students must hang onto her every word.
At least he hung on to every word.
He liked listening to her, and watching her. When she was excited about something her eyes lit up and her expression was bright and light. But then, Jet radiated light. It was a special magic inside of her, the thing that made her irresistible, the thing that warmed him and made him want to pull her close and wrap his arms around her and keep her safe. She deserved to be protected. Cherished. Not that he was the one to do it. God knew he wasn’t the relationship sort. He was good at paying for things, whipping out a credit card and picking up expensive dinners and buying pretty trinkets, but connecting…loving? Not his forte.
She was so different from who he’d expected her to be, so much more in every way, and she had the sweet, bubbly side he’d seen while watching her these past few weeks, but she had another side—smart, thoughtful, inquisitive—and he liked talking to her, liked that she wanted to discuss ideas and not just things.
In the past few years, he’d met far too many beautiful women who were more concerned with Instagram and Snapchat than what was happening in the world, and while he appreciated beauty, he was bored by the shallow, superficiality of a social media driven culture. A year ago he’d sat across from a woman on a flight who’d spent easily—no exaggeration—ten minutes flipping her hair, adjusting her sunglasses on top of her head, taking the sunglasses off, pouting, pursing lips, making duck lips all to get a perfect shot of herself, which she then spent another five to ten minutes doctoring with filters, and her intense self-absorption had fascinated and repelled him at the same time.
How exquisitely, painfully narcissistic…
He’d vowed then to nix dates with Instagram accounts filled with nothing but images of themselves.
When he first left school and started out on his career, the pretty young self-absorbed things hadn’t bothered him so much. As a loner, he hadn’t wanted a woman for conversation. He was happy to just look at her, and if the physical was satisfying, he was satisfied. But he was almost thirty-five and the shallow and empty left him feeling shallow and empty. Better to be alone, than with someone that left him cold inside.
And he’d been cold, for so long now he’d begun to wonder if the issue wasn’t others, but himself. He’d wondered if perhaps he’d been a loner so long that he didn’t know how to form real attachments. Perhaps the years of being shuffled around had damaged him completely…
But standing here in this freezing school, he wasn’t cold. If anything, he felt warm, surprisingly warm.
And even more surprising… happy.
“I’m definitely coming one day to see you teach,” he said. “Not so I can yap, but I want to sit in the back and just watch you and the kids.”
“Why?”
“I think it’d be interesting. You’re interesting.” He smiled at her. “Maybe a little too interesting because I’d rather be with you than working on my book.”
“But you’re close to the end, right?”
He thought of his desk, and
“I would think the local churches serve that purpose.”
“But the churches are divided into denominations, and this isn’t about a denomination, but the families that live here and call Paradise Valley home. Nearly every student here has a parent who attended this school, and those parents’ parents came here, and so it goes, stretching back four and five generations.”
He watched her face as she talked. She was pretty and fresh and animated and he could imagine how her students must hang onto her every word.
At least he hung on to every word.
He liked listening to her, and watching her. When she was excited about something her eyes lit up and her expression was bright and light. But then, Jet radiated light. It was a special magic inside of her, the thing that made her irresistible, the thing that warmed him and made him want to pull her close and wrap his arms around her and keep her safe. She deserved to be protected. Cherished. Not that he was the one to do it. God knew he wasn’t the relationship sort. He was good at paying for things, whipping out a credit card and picking up expensive dinners and buying pretty trinkets, but connecting…loving? Not his forte.
She was so different from who he’d expected her to be, so much more in every way, and she had the sweet, bubbly side he’d seen while watching her these past few weeks, but she had another side—smart, thoughtful, inquisitive—and he liked talking to her, liked that she wanted to discuss ideas and not just things.
In the past few years, he’d met far too many beautiful women who were more concerned with Instagram and Snapchat than what was happening in the world, and while he appreciated beauty, he was bored by the shallow, superficiality of a social media driven culture. A year ago he’d sat across from a woman on a flight who’d spent easily—no exaggeration—ten minutes flipping her hair, adjusting her sunglasses on top of her head, taking the sunglasses off, pouting, pursing lips, making duck lips all to get a perfect shot of herself, which she then spent another five to ten minutes doctoring with filters, and her intense self-absorption had fascinated and repelled him at the same time.
How exquisitely, painfully narcissistic…
He’d vowed then to nix dates with Instagram accounts filled with nothing but images of themselves.
When he first left school and started out on his career, the pretty young self-absorbed things hadn’t bothered him so much. As a loner, he hadn’t wanted a woman for conversation. He was happy to just look at her, and if the physical was satisfying, he was satisfied. But he was almost thirty-five and the shallow and empty left him feeling shallow and empty. Better to be alone, than with someone that left him cold inside.
And he’d been cold, for so long now he’d begun to wonder if the issue wasn’t others, but himself. He’d wondered if perhaps he’d been a loner so long that he didn’t know how to form real attachments. Perhaps the years of being shuffled around had damaged him completely…
But standing here in this freezing school, he wasn’t cold. If anything, he felt warm, surprisingly warm.
And even more surprising… happy.
“I’m definitely coming one day to see you teach,” he said. “Not so I can yap, but I want to sit in the back and just watch you and the kids.”
“Why?”
“I think it’d be interesting. You’re interesting.” He smiled at her. “Maybe a little too interesting because I’d rather be with you than working on my book.”
“But you’re close to the end, right?”
He thought of his desk, and
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