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“There’s plenty. Help yourself. Take one for Eileen too.”

His partner at the front desk wasn’t due for another hour, but she’d always enjoyed the sweet treats Imogene baked for the staff at meetings. Ed took two from the center of the tray, ruining the aesthetic of the platter. It might have been a strategic move to make sure she wasn’t trying to pass along contraband through baked goods. Imogene would never, but she’d heard stories about others, including volunteers, attempting to do it in the past.

He closed the container, and she walked through the metal detectors without issue. She quickly grabbed her stuff and rushed through the halls, dropping her bag and coat off at her locker. That cost her a few minutes. By the time she made it to the classroom, she was eight minutes late.

She waved to the guard stationed at the door.

“Good morning.”

Lance barely acknowledged her. He never did. While she’d gotten along with most of the corrections officers, he’d never taken a liking to her. On one occasion he’d scolded her for being too nice to the inmates. In his eyes, they were all criminals and not worthy of kindness. Lance is an asshole.

But still, Imogene tried to look past that and offer an olive branch.

“Sorry, I’m late.” She lifted the tray. “Would you like a cupcake?”

“No,” he snapped and turned his attention down the hall, giving her his back. He tapped his earpiece. “She finally decided to show up.”

Imogene clamped her lips and rolled her eyes. Eight minutes, Lance. In her year and a half of volunteering at the prison, she was only late one other time due to a major crash on the highway. Even the warden got caught up in the traffic. This was hardly routine for Imogene. But again…Lance is an asshole.

“Send them down.”

It was protocol that she be in the classroom before the inmates arrived. Usually, she gave herself an extra fifteen minutes to prepare. Today that wasn’t an option. Her tardiness was going to cut into her lesson plan, but she’d make it up another day. A celebration was taking priority.

She slipped inside the room, placing the container on her desk and primping her hair. There was no immediate fix for the rain damaged curls frizzing around her face. Curse of the curly-haired girl.

“Good morning.” She smiled, greeting the inmates as they filed in. “Sorry for the delay.”

She lifted on her toes, hoping to see the back of the line. They were always the last to arrive. Neither of them had missed a class since their last bouts in solitary confinement, but that had been over a year ago. A pit formed in her stomach when she didn’t see them. Had they gotten in trouble again? While she was selfishly disappointed this was the last time she’d see them, she didn’t want anything to interfere with their freedom.

A wave of relief rushed through her body when they walked in, last in line. Without thinking she smiled, staring at Zane and Xander Pierce as they passed her desk.

“Big day tomorrow!” It came out louder and more enthusiastic than she intended. And it got the attention of the entire room.

Both Zane and Xander glanced over, but neither of them said a word. It was to be expected. While they participated in class, rarely did either of them speak to her outside of their studies. On occasion Xander would share pleasantries, but even that was limited and always came off as guarded. Zane? She got nothing. Though, she had noticed him watching her a few times. Usually when she got caught staring at someone, she immediately looked away. Not Zane.

“I heard you’re being released tomorrow.” Imogene shifted on her feet and clasped her hands, concealing the small tremble. “You guys must be really happy to be going home.”

Xander shared a look with Zane, and his lips twitched. “Yeah.”

He walked down the aisle to the back corner with Zane following. She hadn’t even realized she was staring until he took his seat. His eyes shifted to her, and his scowl hardened. Instinctively, she smiled, and as usual, it wasn’t returned.

Was it smart to harbor a small crush on an inmate? Absolutely not. Of course, Imogene would never act on it. There were strict rules in place, and she followed them all. But admittedly, she’d been slightly obsessed from the first time she’d laid eyes on Zane Pierce. It didn’t make much sense. He was the polar opposite of every man she’d ever dated. Imogene hadn’t thought she had a particular type. She liked nice guys, good conversationalists, and men who shared her common interests. Appearance was a bonus but not a prerequisite for men she’d spent time with. Zane checked none of those boxes except for the looks. While not classically handsome, she couldn’t deny her intense attraction to the man covered in tattoos.

When all the men were settled in their seats, she started the class. This was a basic college entrance course for those who had received their GED or graduated high school. If they passed, they’d earn college credits. Not all. She glanced to the back of the room where Zane and Xander sat. They wouldn’t complete it because they were leaving. Hopefully, they’d continue their education after they went home.

Imogene kept her eyes on the clock hanging over the door for the duration of class. She wanted to make sure she left enough time for the party. Okay, party is a stretch. When there was only ten minutes left, she stood in the center of the room and clasped her hands. “We’ll pick up on the rest next week. I wanted to wrap up a little early because I have something for all of you.” She walked over to her desk, removed the lid, and grabbed the tray. As soon as she turned, she noticed a few of the men straighten in their chairs, eyeing the platter.

“You brought us snacks?”

“Um, more like a sweet treat.” She looked over at Zane and Xander, smiling. “In honor of your departure, I thought I’d make something to commemorate the day. Kind of like a cheap version of a going away party.” She placed it on her desk. “Come on up and help yourself.”

Desk legs scratched the floor, and the men rushed forward. Imogene stepped to the side, accepting a thank you from some and quickly noticing two were absent from the line. She peeked over her shoulder. The guests of honor hadn’t moved from their seats.

“This is fucking good,” one of the students said with a mouthful of cake.

“Chocolate with vanilla icing. A classic,” another said.

It was a hit. With most of them.