Where My Heart Breaks by Ivy Sinclair Page A

the community college over in Cheshire,” he said. “So I get all of the freshman who have no real interest in the subject matter but are just filling a checkbox on their general course requirements.”
    “I thought you said you were a handyman?” I winced at the high pitched squeak that was currently my voice. I wasn’t playing it cool at all.
    “Believe it or not, teaching a class two nights a week at the smallest community college in the state doesn’t pay enough to cover my rent,” Reed said. He started tapping away at the keys on his laptop. “I pick up odd jobs like helping out your aunt at the Willoughby to cover the gap.”
    He finally met my eyes over the laptop cover. He seemed uncomfortable, and I realized that he was expecting me to judge him. Again. There was more to the story than he was telling me. I didn’t understand how a guy like Reed would have a reputation like he apparently did without a pretty damn good reason. I wanted to know, but it wouldn’t be appropriate to come out and ask. I’d have to figure out a way to slide it in somewhere without being too obvious.
    “Okay.” It seemed the safest response.
    “Okay?”  
    There was that crooked eyebrow again. He was suspicious of my simplistic answer. Over the arch of the wire rim glasses, he looked even more devilishly handsome than before, which I would have said was impossible until I saw it.
    “I can’t think of a better person to help me out with this project,” I said with a nonchalant shrug. “Since you apparently know everything about this book and you are an English teacher. My parents always told me never to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
    Reed’s shoulders relaxed, and he chuckled. “I’m guessing they never actually said anything like that, but I appreciate the vote of confidence.”
    “Just one thing though. Hopefully you aren’t as boring as my last English professor. I’d fall asleep in his lectures even on days when I had plenty of sleep the night before.”
    “I’ll try my best to keep your attention, Ms. Spivey,” he said with that drawl that I found irresistible.
    Hot damn. Sexy teacher. I gulped. He’s just a friend. If I repeated those words enough in my head, maybe I could erase every lustful thought that crossed my mind whenever my eyes drifted up his biceps to his muscular torso. I desperately wanted to be the piece of thin fabric that clung to those muscles.
    “Kate?”
    Shit, he caught me gawking at him again. I shook my head to clear the cobwebs and took a sip of cappuccino. I needed to cool it, or this non-date was going to be a disaster. “Hmmmm?” Having liquid in my mouth helped, but then I flinched when I burned my tongue. I bit back a yelp. Just like that I had been turned into a slobbering idiot.
    “I asked you how far you were in the book. I don’t want to ruin the ending for you if you haven’t finished it yet.”  
    “Chapter ten,” I said, trying to hide the fact that I thought I might have disintegrated the tip of my tongue. “Jackson just told Camilla that he thought that he might be in love with her.”
    “Let me see that map,” Reed said.
    I quickly opened it up and found that it covered the whole table. Reed didn’t seem to mind, and he moved his laptop off the table and set it on the chair next to him. He pulled a black sharpie out of his bag and then searched the map for whatever he was looking for. Then he circled a spot. I scrunched down to see it better. Working on the porch had its disadvantages.
    “That’s the Willoughby,” I said.
    “Seventy percent of the book takes place on the Willoughby grounds,” Reed said. “We can start there. Do you remember the other location that appears in chapter six?”
    Had I known there was going to be a quiz I would have studied. Fortunately, I did know the answer because I had written it down five minutes before I walked out the door to meet Reed. “Bleckerville Presbyterian Church. It’s where Camilla sees Jackson’s