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“Yes, miss, but Nathan got stinged,” said Clara.
“Stung,” said Ava and Hope in unison.
Hope squatted down beside Ava. “Show me,” she said to Nathan. To Ava’s surprise, Nathan shakily held out his hand. Hope tutted and then looked at him quite seriously. “I’m afraid we’re going to have to cut this finger off.”
Nathan snorted. “No, you’re not. It’s just a sting.”
“It looks like a terribly horrible sting, we should definitely think about cutting it off,” Hope said solemnly.
“It’s only a sting,” laughed Nathan.
Hope sighed. “Well, if you’re sure,” she said. “I do have a little package of vinegar in my bag that’ll stop it hurting.”
“Okay,” said Nathan cheerfully.
Hope fumbled in her bag. “You’re sure about not cutting it off?” she asked doubtfully as Nathan held out his hand to have a sachet of malt vinegar poured over his finger.
“Double sure,” he laughed.
“Oh well then, off you go and get your work done,” Hope said.
“Uh-oh.”
Ava turned around again. “Uh-oh, what?” she asked, knowing full well that the sound couldn’t bode well.
“Nothing,” said Daniel Monroe edging off behind Hope. “Ms. Perkins, Ms. Perkins,” he said in a whisper that was as loud as his regular speaking voice. “Ms. Perkins, I’ve had an accident again.”
“It’s fine,” Hope said calmly. “I’ve got wet wipes and a spare pair of jogging pants in my bag.”
This was some magic bag, Ava was starting to think. She watched as Hope lead Daniel off into the public bathroom to get cleaned up and shook her head.
That was the reason she was going nowhere. No Peru, no Cambodia, not even Quinn’s couch. Because of Hope Perkins and her magic bag. Hope Perkins and her luscious curves, Hope Perkins and her ability to irritate and enchant with a smile.
She could go nowhere, Ava suddenly realized, without seeing where this went, without knowing just what it was about, without kissing Hope one more time or a dozen more times or a million more times.
Which meant she needed to get over this mental block of taking the next step.
Because, like it or not, Hope Perkins made Ava’s life better by pretty much every single measure. Whilst before she’d been so busy being heart-broken that getting out of bed was a chore, now she found that she wanted to hurry to work, wanted to see Hope, if only to say good morning.
There was a reason Nathan Jackson hadn’t shown her his hand. A reason that Daniel Monroe hadn’t confessed his accident to her. Because they trusted Hope implicitly, trusted her to do what was right for them, to care for them.
And it was about time that Ava learned a little from her kids, rather than the other way around. It was about time she trusted Hope and maybe trusted herself a little too.
The rest of the morning managed to pass without incident, and it was ten minutes before lunch as they ushered the children back into the school gates.
“Hope,” Ava said, as she passed by.
“Mmm? Clara Buxton, don’t you dare think about running in that corridor.”
Ava swallowed. “Um, do you, er, that is, would you—”
“Nathan Jackson, walk smartly to the classroom and stop hitting people’s coats.”
Ava took a breath and tried again. “Er, I was thinking—”
“Alice Perkins, let go of Sara’s hand, she doesn’t want to be attached to you for life.” Hope turned to her. “You’d better think quickly,” she said, with a grin. “Because they’ll set the place ablaze otherwise.”
Ava cleared her throat. “It’s just that, I thought maybe… Doyouwanttocometomyplaceafterwork?”
