Page 3 of The Innocent

She smiled at those who’d given compliments and subtly glanced over at the Pierce cousins again. Xander was turned to the side, whispering something to Zane, who had his gaze locked on her. This man had the most intense eyes. Dark blue like the center of the ocean. Zane lifted his chin, and Xander shook his head, but she noticed a small smile.

When Xander abruptly stood, Zane leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. Xander walked down the aisle, grabbed a cupcake, and walked back to his desk without a word.

“You got a recipe for this? Give it to the guys in the kitchen so we can eat this good shit every day.”

Imogene chuckled, shrugging. “It’s just from the box. The kind that your mom probably made when you were a kid.”

The man snorted. “My mom never made me shit.”

Dammit! Imogene was usually good at not broadcasting stereotypes or comparing her own childhood with others, especially in the prison. Not everybody had lived the same life or had a similar upbringing. While Imogene’s hadn’t been idyllic, it had been better than most. And she recognized that.

“But hey, glad you made them for us.” He lifted the last bite. “You make these for your kids?”

The room was drowned in silence. There were specific rules in place at the prison. Imogene usually followed them all. This was a particularly hard one. Giving personal information about herself was strongly discouraged. It was a safety measure, which she understood. But this wasn’t something that could be used against her.

“I don’t have children.”

“What about a man?” another inmate asked, wiggling his brows. “Got one of them?”

Heat rose from her chest to her cheeks, and her skin pebbled as a shiver ran down her spine. Even without looking, she sensed Zane’s eyes were on her. Was he waiting on her answer?

She swallowed the knot in her throat. “I do not.”

“Want one?” He winked.

Without thinking, her gaze darted to the back of the room, landing on Zane. She’d never imagined going on a formal dinner date with the inmate, but she had fantasized about him plenty of times in the confines of her bedroom. His arms wrapped around her, his lips on every inch of her body, and his… What are you doing? Imogene blinked, and her muscles stiffened. A fantasy in the privacy of her own home was one thing but… I’m in the middle of my classroom!

She ducked her head in an effort to conceal her blush and rounded her desk. This wasn’t the first time she’d daydreamed about Zane. But usually she was discrete.

Lance stepped into the doorway. Time was up. A sudden dread washed over her. This would probably be the last time she’d ever see him.

Her infatuation with Zane Pierce had begun the first time she’d laid eyes on him. It had been during her orientation with the other volunteers. They’d been given a complete tour, including areas where they were prohibited. The last leg had been the outside yard. The inmates were being called in. They had to summon Zane several times. He was standing at the fence, staring out. If she had to guess, he was yearning for the freedom beyond the barbed wire. When he’d finally followed orders and walked toward the door, his steps were slow, not rushed. He’d walked at his own pace. He got a few feet from the end of the line, and he looked over. There were several security officers and volunteers, but his eyes immediately locked on her, a hardened, fierce glare. He could probably intimidate anyone with just a look. It should’ve had her tearing her gaze away, but instead she was entranced.

And then it was over. The guards ushered them through the door, and she figured, in a prison this size, she wouldn’t see him again. Until he walked into the library two days later with his cousin, Xander.

A sharp knock on the wall made Imogene jump and turn toward the door. Lance and his impatient air had shifted the tension in the room. The party was officially over.

“That’s it for today.” She clasped her hands, scanning the room. “I’ll see you all in a few days.” She paused, and her smile faltered. She shouldn’t have such a strong reaction. Zane was just a student she taught. Nothing more, unless she counted her delusional fantasies.

Imogene cautiously shifted her gaze to the Pierce cousins. “Um, well, I guess I won’t see all of you.”

Xander smirked, glancing over his shoulder at Zane. He had his eyes trained on the front of the room but not in her direction. Chairs scraped the linoleum floor, and she circled behind her desk to make room for the inmates to leave. When Xander and Zane passed, she felt a sudden urge to say something. But what? She could thank them for their participation in her classes and for never being an issue or problem. Imogene could mention how proud she was that they’d earned their GEDs. Praise them for getting the highest scores of the group. She could offer Zane a cupcake to take back to his cell. Lame. She bit her lip, racking her brain. On a more personal note, she could thank Zane for protecting her. Of course, I’m not supposed to know about that.

They had just breached the hall. Now or never.

For as silly as it was, it seemed like the most neutral choice. She grabbed a cupcake and rushed forward, out to the hall. “Zane, Xander?”

The men halted and turned. They stood over six feet, Xander having an inch or two on Zane. But both were massive figures. Broad shoulders, muscular arms, and scarred hands. She’d often wondered how they’d gotten so many injuries. But she never asked, though she did have her suspicions. Considering they were both sentenced for felony aggravated assault, fighting seemed to be in their nature. But they were the polar opposite with her. Neither of the cousins had ever made her uncomfortable or given off a threatening vibe.

“Yeah?” Xander arched his brow.

Blood rushed through her veins, and she swallowed the lump in her throat, mustering up a calm smile. Pretty sure I’m not pulling that one off.

Imogene inched closer, stopping a few feet from them. She jutted out her hand toward Zane. “You forgot your cupcake.”

God, saying it out loud sounds sillier than I’d thought.

For as beautiful as his eyes were, the glare hardened them as he lowered his stare to her hand. He made no move to take it. Told you it was lame. Her arm shook waiting for some kind of response. When she didn’t get one, she withdrew her hand.