Free Teacher Beware (A Grace Ellery Romantic Suspense Book 1) by Charlotte Raine

failed to get Tate the help he needed."
    "It's not your fault," I say, taking a step toward her. She stumbles back, her legs hitting against the bed.
    "I was a teacher. It's my job to guide children in the right direction. I should have seen the signs early. I should have gotten him help. What if he had attached himself to some other woman and stabbed her? That blood would have been on my hands."
    "He was already broken—"
    "You didn't know him. You don't know any of those kids," she says. "I was there to be a lighthouse for them and I failed."
    "I'm a cardiologist and the brain is just another part of the body. Tate had a sick brain. Sometimes people are too damaged to be repaired."
    I reach toward her, but she leans away from me.
    "That doesn't mean that we don't try to help them," she says.
    "Are you saying that you didn't try? Because I find that hard to believe. I may barely know you, but I see people at their weakest all of the time, so I understand people's character. You aren't the kind of person to watch an injured person without helping."
    "Well, I used to work with injured people, so I know what they look like too," she retorts. "So, tell me…why are you injured? You've changed from the first two times we talked. Something happened in your life. You know my story. Tell me yours."
    "That's not relevant. It's not what we were talking about."
    "Oh, I thought we were talking about character," she says. "I thought we were talking about us. So, what? I'm supposed to spill my guts while you play psychologist? Honest communication is a two-way street, Sam."
    "The only thing that honest communication can do is destroy that street."
    "How does honesty destroy it?" she asks, hands on her hips.
    "Like this."
    I cup her face in my hands—the soft curves of her face fits perfectly in the angles of my fingers. I press my lips against hers. The texture of her lips reminds me of velvet. I wait for her to jerk away, but instead her fingers are on my waist. I slide my hands under her blouse. I skim the raised skin of scars from when she was stabbed and I love them for being part of her—something that changed her into who she is now.
    My mind—filled with logic and despair a few seconds ago—goes blank and all I know is Grace. I can feel every atom of her body touching me and I smell the soft floral scent of her skin.
    I let it absolve me. I let it build a street and I can never return to where I was.
     
    ~~~~~
     

Grace, 2014
    DAWN CREEPS INTO the hotel room little by little. I can feel the warmth of the sunrays on my skin. As I open my eyes, I see one of my calves between Sam's legs, while the other calf is on top of them. I use my toe to trace Sam's ankle.
    He stirs. Before he opens his eyes, his hands roam the mattress. His fingertips brush down my arms until they reach my hands. He holds my hands and smiles. His eyes flicker open.
    "You know ever since the attack…I've had dreams of being chased by a shadow," I tell him. "Or sometimes I'm tied to a table and there are knives dangling from the ceiling above me. Since the shootings, the dreams have only gotten worse. Do you know what I dreamed about last night?"
    "What?" He kisses me.
    "Nothing," I tell him. "I don't remember anything except falling asleep next to you and waking up beside you."
    "I'm glad you didn't have any nightmares." He sits up. His dark hair is flat on the side he slept on. I stroke it until it stands up straight. He leans against my hand.
    "Do you have to work?" I ask.
    "Nope," he says. "If I didn't take Saturdays off, my work would kill me. I have to coach middle school lacrosse at four, but that's a long time from now."
    I groan. "I should start looking for another job. I have a feeling that the school is going to avoid hiring me."
    "I can talk to Principal Pattinson," he says as he kisses my jaw. "I can be very persuasive."
    "I'm sure you can, but I'm going to try to keep my job by working hard and playing nice with my coworkers."
    "When has that