Just This Once (The Kings)

Publicly dating Whip King was like riding on a parade float—like the star jock set his sights on you and everyone knew it. Only instead of high school glory days and mediocre kissing skills, Whip had a pierced dick and kissed like a god.

July was floating by on a cloud of beachy, sun-soaked days and steamy, limb-tangling nights. I’d all but moved into Whip’s house, and it was so freeing to know that I didn’t have to carry the weight of our secret any longer.

With Whip working, my day was wide open, and I planned to spend all of it stretched out on the beach, working on my tan. But first, coffee. I pushed open the door to the Sugar Bowl. It still surprised me how many tourists flocked to this tiny coastal town. Standing in line, I hardly recognized anyone as smells of cinnamon and roasted coffee beans mingled with freshly applied suntan lotion.

I quickly scanned the menu board before making my decision. When my phone chimed, I reached into my bag to see if it was Mom, confirming she’d secured a spot on the beach for us. I paused, staring at the phone as Outtatowner Junior High flashed across the screen. Stepping forward in line, I held the phone to my ear while plugging the other with my finger.

“Hello?” I answered.

“Miss Ward? Principal Cartwright. Is this a good time?”

“Oh, uh—yeah. Yes. Sorry, I’m at the bakery, and it’s a bit loud.” I offered a small, apologetic smile to the couple I was hunched against and slid away as the line moved forward without me.

I tucked myself into a corner of the bustling bakery and infused my voice with the practiced calm of a cheery professional. “Thank you for calling, sir. As I mentioned in my letter of interest, I was hoping to discuss my qualifications for the open teaching position.”

“Uh, yes.” He cleared his throat. “That’s why I’m calling.”

Yes! I bit back a happy dance and pressed my lips together so he could continue.

“This is a courtesy call to inform you that the position has been filled.”

The slow-motion whoosh between my ears drowned out the titter of voices in the bakery. The room spun as I struggled to comprehend the words he’d spoken.

“I’m sorry?” I had to have heard him wrong.

“Mrs. Kirk’s position has been filled. I wanted to be the person to tell you and to thank you for your time at OJH.”

“Oh, I . . .” I blinked.

“If you need a reference, feel free to use my contact information, and I would be happy to provide a strong recommendation.” His uncomfortable pause made my skin itch. “All in all, your work was more than satisfactory.”

“More than satisfactory?” Simply repeating his words still didn’t make them sink in.

Principal Cartwright sighed. “I know this isn’t what you wanted, Miss Ward.”

My jaw set. “Was it something to do with my performance? I’m sorry. I don’t understand.”

He paused, and the deafening silence spoke volumes. “No. It was . . .” He exhaled an irritated sigh, and my stomach dropped. “We received a phone call that shed some light on the fundraising efforts of the educational foundation that the school board simply couldn’t look past.”

I stilled, my hackles up. I may have been confused, but I sure as hell wasn’t going down without a fight. “The foundation? We raised more money in those three events than the foundation had in years. Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Everyone appreciates your efforts, we do, but⁠—”

“But it wasn’t enough?” My professionalism was slipping—I knew that—but rejection burned inside my gut. Hot tears poked beneath my eyelids as I felt my future slipping between my fingers like sand.

On the line, my former principal sighed. “Did you or did you not go around my direct orders to leave Robbie Lambert and his need for shoes alone?”

My mind whirled. Sure, I had been reprimanded about giving him the shoes, but it was Whip who’d organized the firefighters to provide all the students with something so that Robbie wouldn’t be singled out.

“I mean . . . I—” Hot anger bubbled inside me. “Why is his father so upset about someone caring for his son?”

“Miss Ward, it was not Mr. Lambert who filed the complaint. In fact, the issue of caring for his son is exactly what got us into this mess. Did you also know that a report of suspected child abuse was filed against the family?”

I stilled. Unable to get the image of Robbie and his bruised face out of my mind, I had made a call after the carnival to report my growing suspicions. I had gotten so wrapped up in my secret with Whip being outed that I hadn’t taken the opportunity to inform the school of my report quite yet. “Um . . .”

Fuck.

Nerves rippled down my spine as my mind whirled.

Principal Cartwright huffed on the other end of the line. “Exactly as I suspected. Miss Ward, while I appreciate all teachers caring for their students, accusations of this nature are very serious.”noveldrama

“I completely agree, which is why I⁠—”

“Miss Ward, instead of following protocol—trusting your team—you tried to solve this on your own. Robbie Lambert is enrolled in tae kwon do. Were you aware of that?”

I frowned, confused. “No, I wasn’t.”

“He also recently participated in a sparring competition in which he, very publicly, was the unfortunate recipient of a pretty nasty black eye. Were you aware of that?”

Dread pooled in my stomach. “No.”

“He won the competition, by the way, but because of your call to Child Protective Services, instead of celebrating that victory, he and his family are actively being questioned regarding your accusation. I’ve been tasked with putting together names of Robbie’s teachers who can provide their insights as well.”

A terrible sinking feeling threatened to drown me. “I thought I was doing the right thing . . .”

Principal Cartwright softened. “I understand that, and I do believe it’s our right to protect all children. However, you do also need all the facts first.”

“Is Robbie okay?” I couldn’t believe what I had done.

“I’m sorry, but there isn’t any more information I can provide. The investigation is ongoing.”

Defeated, my shoulders slumped. “I understand. Thank you, sir.”

“Best of luck in your future, Miss Ward.”

I didn’t even hear his lackluster goodbye as I hung up the phone. My tongue was dry and thick.

How could this have happened?

A job at the junior high was my opportunity to put down roots and finally stay planted. My vision blurred as I looked around the small bakery, feeling everything slip from my grasp.

We were so close to having it all.

There was nothing.

Tucked away in a quiet corner of Bluebird Books, I had scoured every school website and job posting search engine for anything that was within reasonable driving distance to Outtatowner. Classroom teachers, content specialists, teacher tech support, curriculum development, anything in education that my teaching certificate would qualify me for, and I still came up empty-handed.

Frustrated, I slammed my laptop closed. I thought there was a teacher shortage, for fuck’s sake!

I hated admitting defeat, but there was no denying that I’d gambled and lost. Outtatowner was supposed to be my big do-over, and instead it was turning out to be yet another flop.

A hand at the center of my back drew my attention and had me sitting straighter. Rachel smiled down at me and set a fresh cup of coffee beside me before sliding onto the chair to my right. “No luck?”

I frowned down at the coffee and shook my head. “Not yet.”

She tucked her legs and sipped her frothy latte. “I can’t believe that spineless prick Cartwright didn’t stand up for you. A principal is supposed to have his teachers’ backs. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

I smiled weakly, appreciating her support. “He had every right to hire someone else. And this CPS case is a total mess. Poor kid doesn’t even get to celebrate his tae kwon do victory because I couldn’t slow down for one minute—I just barreled ahead. Plus, I went against a direct order to leave Robbie and his need for shoes alone, and he totally called me out on it.”

“But you didn’t do it,” she offered.

I shrugged. “No, instead the guy I was secretly sleeping with made an over-the-top big deal about it and proved to my principal I was more than willing to go around my boss to do whatever I wanted.”

“I think it’s romantic that Whip tried to help.” Her eyes went wistful, and she sipped her coffee.

Me too.

“Unfortunately romance doesn’t earn the trust of your supervisor. I think he just couldn’t look past two fuckups.” I sighed and let the coffee warm my hands. “Whip’s at work. He doesn’t know yet that I didn’t get the job.”

Her brow furrowed. “You didn’t want to tell him? He could help you mope.”

I offered a wry, half-hearted laugh. “Not yet.” I toyed with my lip. “I was hoping I could temper the news with an exciting job prospect but . . .” I gestured vaguely at my computer. “Nothing.”

She leaned into me. “Please don’t give up. This is only day one, and I can’t bear the thought of you moving away. There’s still plenty of time left before school starts up in the fall. Something will come up, I know it.”

“I hope so,” I answered, despite not quite believing with the same confidence she had.

“You want to grab a drink tonight? Brooklyn and I are going to a bar a few towns over to listen to an eighties cover band.”

I shook my head. “No thanks. I’m sticking around the bookstore for a while. I want to keep looking. The Bluebirds are also meeting tonight, and I want to thank them for all they did for me.”

Rachel’s face fell. “You make it sound like a goodbye.”

Tears threatened to spill over my lashes, but I crammed the emotions down and faked a smile. “It’s not.”

I only hoped that was true.

Long afternoon shadows slanted across the carpeted floor of Bluebird Books. Hours had passed as I sat tucked in a corner at the windowsill. Between searches for work, I watched as life in Outtatowner played out in front of me—couples strolling hand in hand, families trekking toward the beach, friendly smiles and waves.

As the clock ticked, the ambient lighting gradually dimmed, and the once-bustling aisles surrendered to a quieter intimacy. The overhead lights were turned off, leaving the bookstore bathed in the soft glow of table lamps strategically placed around the space. Blankets adorned the cozy reading nooks, inviting patrons to curl up with a good book.

The air shifted as the last customers made their way to the exit, the door chiming softly as it closed behind them. The subtle rustle of pages being turned and the occasional clink of coffee cups echoed in the now-hushed atmosphere. A sense of anticipation hung in the air, as though the bookstore itself was holding its breath, preparing for the arrival of the Bluebirds.

And then, just as the clock struck the evening hour, the familiar faces of the Bluebirds began to trickle in. Laughter and greetings filled the space, punctuating the quiet with a joyful cadence. The women, carrying trays of treats and bottles of wine, moved with an easy familiarity, transforming the bookstore into their meeting place.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself before walking toward the back of the bookstore, where the Bluebirds gathered, with a smile on my face.

“Emily, over here.” MJ smiled and waved from her spot on a high-back chair. “I saved you a seat.” She patted the settee next to her.

“Thanks.” I smiled and sank into the plush seat.

“So,” she said, her eyebrows bouncing up and down. “We have some catching up to do.”

A hot flush crept across my cheeks. Word about Whip and me being found kissing at the carnival had spread fast in that small town way, and our public outing at the Grudge had cemented everyone’s curiosities.

I smiled weakly.

“Give her a break, MJ.” Sylvie stepped up and handed MJ a cup, then turned and smiled at me. “Hi, I know we’ve met before but didn’t get the chance to talk much. I’m Whip’s sister, Sylvie King—I mean Sullivan!” She barked out a laugh and shook her head. “Sorry, I’m still getting used to saying that.” Her smile was soft and genuine. “You looked like you had fun dancing at the Grudge. I’m sorry we didn’t stay long enough to chat. Apparently my husband has a two-dance maximum.”

I smiled, recalling the love in Whip’s eyes when he’d shown me the toy box he was building for his new nephew. I reached my hand out to shake hers. “It’s nice to see you again. Congratulations on your adorable baby boy.”

She smiled sweetly and settled in the chair on the opposite side of me. “He’s over a year old already. I just can’t believe it.”

“He’s the cutest kid,” MJ added. “He’s got his mama’s smile.”

Sylvie laughed. “Yeah, but also his daddy’s attitude.”

The two women shared a laugh as they sipped their drinks, and I couldn’t help but feel the warm sense of camaraderie. As an only child, I had never known what it was like to have a sister to share secrets with, or talk about boys, or eventually have someone to raise my children alongside.

As the final women gathered, Tootie Sullivan stood at the front of the group and shook a small bell to gain our attention.

“Good evening, Bluebirds. Before we all get settled in, I just wanted to take a moment. We have a special guest here with us tonight.” Her kind eyes found me as she gestured toward where I sat. “Emily, would you like to come up?”

I shifted in my seat and rose to stand, collecting my thoughts as I made my way to the front of the room.

“Emily asked if she might be able to speak to all of us tonight.” Tootie gestured in front of her. “They’re all ears, dear.”

I nodded at her and smiled. “Thank you. Hi.” I looked out into the sea of friendly smiling faces. “Thanks, everyone. I feel a little silly standing in front of you all.”

A few soft murmurs rippled through the crowd, and a couple of the women hunched together, whispering in secret. I wondered if they were gossiping about me and the news that Whip King and I were officially dating. A firefighter and the chief’s daughter were prime gossip fodder.

I cleared my throat and pressed on. “I really just wanted to say thank you. With the help and generosity of the Bluebirds, the Outtatowner Educational Foundation has raised more money in the last few months than they had in years. Thank you.”

Soft claps and cheerful whoops rippled through the small gathering of women. Their friendly camaraderie set me at ease.

“Eat that, Scooter Kuder,” someone playfully called from the back.

A laugh burst from my chest, and the tension in my shoulders dissolved.

“Next year we can go bigger!” MJ called out from her seat, raising her cup.

My eyes caught my mother’s, who gave me a soft reassuring smile. She knew what I did—that if the Bluebirds supported the foundation again next year, it would be someone else at the helm instead of me. Confiding in my mother earlier in the day had nearly broken me. Mom reassured me that everything would work out, but as the day wore on, I lacked the confidence she had.

I smiled and hoped it didn’t wobble at the edges. “The children in this town are lucky to have you. Thanks again, ladies.”

I stepped away from the front of the room to keep my emotions in check.

Tootie placed her hand on my elbow. “Before you go, there’s one more thing.” She looked to her right. “Bug, the floor is yours.”

Bug King, always strong and proud, stepped forward. When we locked eyes, her quick nod sent surprise running through me. “At our last meeting the Bluebirds took a vote, and it was unanimous. We would like to extend an invitation to officially join the Bluebird Book Club.”

Shock was the only emotion that registered, followed swiftly by overwhelming gratitude. I looked around as the women smiled at me. “I don’t know what to say.”

“Say you’ll bring the rum punch next time!” Lark Sullivan called from the back, and laughter bounced through the book club.

I laughed alongside them, feeling the tears sting the corner of my eyes. “It’s an honor. Thank you.”

My chin wobbled and I took a reassuring breath.

“Well, now that that’s settled, you can sit down.” Bug gestured with her chin. “We need to figure out how to get Stumpy Larson a wife so he stops messing up our Matchmaker’s Gala.”

I bit back a smile and scurried back to my spot next to MJ. I didn’t know how long it would last, but for tonight, I was a Bluebird.