A Daddy for Jacoby

Chapter Nine

“Gina, please, we need you! You have to help us!”

Trying to ignore her sister’s whining was like trying to ignore fingernails being dragged across a chalkboard.

Impossible.

“Look, I agreed to come with you and Mom to help pick out a dress.” Gina leaned her head back, raising her voice to be heard over the dressing room door. “Which you waited until the last possible minute to shop for, I might add. But I am not, repeat, not interested in playing chaperone.”

“But this isn’t just any dance. It’s the spring formal, the last dance we seniors have before graduation. If we don’t get enough chaperones, the school might cancel it.” Giselle’s muffled reply came through the door. “We’re celebrating the founding of the high school back in the fifties. The whole theme is based on that decade.”

This is why they were spending Saturday night sifting through racks of dresses, both authentic and reproductions, in Cheyenne’s finest vintage clothing store.

“Fine, it’s a big deal,” Gina conceded, “but that doesn’t mean I’m going to—”

The chime from her cell phone announced an incoming text message, cutting her off. She dug into her pocket, admonishing her heart for the now-familiar quickening that had become common over the last week.

It wasn’t Justin. She hadn’t even looked yet, but she knew it wasn’t him. Not hard to come to that conclusion as she’d hardly spoken to the man since Monday night in the library parking lot. The few times she’d seen him at work and offered a hello resulted in a mumbled reply and nothing more. She’d seen Jacoby during story hour at the library, but it had been Racy who had brought him both times.

Friends? Yeah, right. Justin was plainly not interested in a friendship, much less anything else, with her. She flipped open her phone and read the message.

Don’t be a nudge and leave us with only old people as guards. Come to the dance.

Garrett.

Giselle’s twin obviously wasn’t planning on majoring in English at Duke University in the fall.

“Stop trying to double-team me,” she said to Giselle as she typed the same words to her brother. “I’m not interested.”

“But you’d have a good time.” Giselle cracked open the dressing room door and peeked out. “And if anyone needs a good time, it’s you.”

Gina twisted in her chair to look at her sister. “What does that mean?”

“You’ve been acting like a slug ever since you got back from your trip. Other than being kid happy over reading Dr. Seuss to a bunch of rug rats, that is.”

“Hey!”

“Giselle, leave your sister alone.” Sandy Steele came back into the changing area, her arms loaded down with dresses in a rainbow of pastel colors. “If she doesn’t want to go, I’m sure she has a good reason.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Gina’s eye caught the glittering black at the bottom of the pile.

“Of course, you never did attend a formal dance of your own.” Sandy added the dresses to a holding rack, except for a lemony-yellow chiffon number Giselle was already reaching for. “I always considered that a shame. Perhaps you could get dressed up and attend this event.”

Gina groaned as her sister giggled and disappeared back into her dressing room. “Mom, not you, too.”

“I think you’d have a wonderful time.” Her mother turned to her and held out a black, strapless dress with a fitted bodice and a voluminous skirt of starched netting that glistened under the dressing room lights.

“At a high school dance?”

“You’re not so far removed from high school, dear.”

Gina couldn’t keep from gently touching the dress. Three layers of tulle made up the skirt, the top layer lightly dusted with silver glitter, the middle black and ruffled and the bottom a deep chocolate. Gorgeous. “I’ll be twenty-three in a few months.”

“The perfect age to keep an eye on a group of teenagers while still having good time,” Sandy said, then whispered, “Why don’t you at least try it on?”

“Oh, I’m not dressed to try on anything formal.”

“It’s more about undressing than dressing, sis,” Giselle called out. “Mom, I need some help in here.”

“The bodice is boned, and the crinoline petticoats are already sewn into the skirt.” Her mother pushed the hanger at Gina. “You don’t need to wear anything special underneath.”

She took the dress, surprised at its substantial weight. “I don’t know…”

“It can’t hurt to try it on.” Her mother turned Gina toward an empty dressing room. “As soon as I saw it, I thought of you.”

Stepping inside the room, Gina hung the dress on the closest hook and stripped down to her panties before she could change her mind. She undid the side zipper, stepped into the dress and slid it into place while keeping her back to the room’s mirror.

It took some work to get the zipper back up, but she did it. Then she noticed her socks. Nope, they had to go, too. She toed them off, noting she needed to get to Ursula’s for another pedicure, and turned to face the mirror.

Her eyes widened.

Wow.

Gina inched toward her image, amazed at how the heart-shaped bodice hugged her breasts and the fitted structure did wonders for her posture. Her tanned skin glowed. Perching on tiptoes told her high heels were a necessity.

So was an updo hairstyle. She pulled a hair clip from her purse and seconds later her riot of curls was off her shoulders. They were still a mess, but it worked for now. She twirled back and forth, loving the swishing noise the tulle made.

Definitely a wow kind of dress.

Could she do this? Chaperone a high school dance?

It would be fun to see her siblings and their friends all dressed up and while a few teachers had been invited, the dance committee, of which Giselle was in charge, needed to secure the rest of the chaperones. Parents had quickly been scratched off the list, for obvious reasons according to Giselle, but older siblings would be perfect. Except if the older sibling was the town sheriff or his wife. That let Gage and Racy off the hook.

Okay, so now they had her thinking about it.

But she couldn’t show up alone. Talk about the heights of geekiness. Who could she ask—

No, no, no.

Gina’s cell phone chimed again and she jumped at the chance to end the ridiculous thought running through her head. She flipped it open and read the text message.

Go to the freaking dance.

Barbie. Geez, her sister was now getting Gina’s friends involved.

Would you like to go to a high school dance? she typed in response.

A minute later came Barbie’s reply. Been there, done that. If you’re looking for a date, try a guy. Then there’s no question about who leads who when dancing.

Gina rolled her eyes. Another message immediately followed.

Ask Ric Murphy. The guy is nuts for you. Unless you want to see if that cutie from Boston College is available.

Gina sighed. Yes, Ric had made it clear since the first night she worked at the bar he was interested in her. And the cutie from Massachusetts was a guy Gina had met on vacation who’d already emailed twice this week.

Both fun guys, both good-looking, both easy to talk to, but neither guy was Justin.

She closed her eyes.

It was time to move on. Pulling up a number before she had time to talk herself out of it, Gina put the phone to her ear. “Hello, Ric? It’s Gina. I was wondering if you had any plans for next Saturday night?”



She’d been stood up.

Ric had called an hour ago to tell her he had the flu and wouldn’t be able to take her to the dance. All dressed up and nowhere to go.

Gina had kept quiet about her change of plans during the excitement of her mother snapping pictures of the twins and their respective dates in front of the fireplace. Giselle looked lovely standing next to her date in her lemon-yellow chiffon gown with its multilayered tiered skirt. Garrett had returned home after picking up Leenie Harden, his steady girlfriend and the daughter of the mayor, to have their pictures taken. Then the four teenagers left to meet friends and head to the dance.

“Shouldn’t your date be here soon?”

Gina looked at her mother. “Ric called a while ago. He’s not coming.”

“What?”

“He’s got the flu. He said it started as a cold and got worse as the day went on. He’d hoped to be able to make it which is why he called so late, but…”

“Oh, honey, I’m sorry. You were so excited about your date.”

Gina sighed. “Ric isn’t a date. I mean, yes, he was my date tonight, but it’s no big deal.”

No big deal.

The words echoed inside her head.

Words that had become her mantra in the last two weeks.

Words Justin must’ve taken to heart because he was back to treating her as a polite acquaintance at best. With his working days and her working nights, it wasn’t as if she’d had much of a chance to see him anyway. He wasn’t outright ignoring her, but was treating her with cool indifference. As if everything that had happened between them was, indeed, no big deal.

Gina sank to the corner of the couch and closed her eyes, determined not to let her mother see her unexpected tears. Why was she upset? It was just a silly high school dance. So what if she spent a small fortune on the dress and heels?

“You don’t have to stick around.” Head dipped, Gina slipped off one shoe and wiggled her toes. She’d worn the Betsey Johnson peep toes around the house all week trying to break them in. “I know you and Hank have plans.”

“You could still go.”

“Show up alone? I don’t think so.”

“Gina Marie Steele, those children are counting on you.” Her mother’s tone got the desired results. Gina looked up at her. “Not to mention the other chaperones.”

Her mother was right, of course, but she hated the idea of walking into the school gym all by herself. Maybe she could hide out in the girls’ restroom. Or roam the halls making sure no one tried to find a dark corner.

“I know, Mom, I know.”

“Hank should be here soon. We could take you over to the school on our way to the movies.”

Gina offered a half-hearted laugh. “Dropped off at the dance by my mother? No, thanks. I’ll drive myself as soon as I change my clothes.”

“Change?”

Rising, Gina balanced herself, putting most of her weight on her bare foot. “Yes, change. Getting all dressed up for a date is one thing, but I’m not showing up alone looking like this. I’ll put on a simple dress and sensible shoes.”

“But, Gina—”

“No buts, Mom. Go powder your pretty nose before your guy gets here.”

Gina could see an argument brewing, but her mom turned and disappeared down the hall to her bedroom. Seconds later, the doorbell rang.

“There’s Hank. I’ll get it,” Gina called out before hobbling to the front door. Opening it, she bent and tried to wiggle her bare foot back into the new shoe. “Hey, there. My mom will be just a second…”

Her voice disappeared the moment she noticed the polished cowboy boots shining in the glow of the porch light.

Her eyes flew to his face, but a black Stetson, worn low over his brow, made it impossible to see anything more than his familiar straight nose, full mouth and square jaw.

Justin.

She gave up on her shoe and slowly straightened, clutching the high heel to her chest as she took in his dark suit jacket, matching trousers and stark white shirt. Instead of a standard tie, a bolo tie with a metallic gray stone surrounded by silver scroll work hung around his neck.

Justin Dillon stood on her front porch looking sinfully delicious all dressed up for a night on the town. And in his hands he held a clear plastic corsage box containing a cluster of yellow roses.

“If you’re looking for a Prince Charming to help you with that shoe, Cinderella—” the familiar low timbre of his voice stole over her skin “—you’re out of luck.”



Damn, she was breathtaking.

Bare shoulders, a hint of cleavage where the front of her strapless dress dipped, especially when she’d bent at the waist to play with her shoe. Smooth, bare legs and tiny feet with bright pink toenails to match her hair. Even in a mess of curls piled on her head, he could see the pink streak of color over her left ear.

The desire to kiss those shiny lips, now formed in a perfect O of surprise, surged through him and he knew one undeniable truth.

This was wrong.

This was one hundred percent wrong.

And not just because of what that couple had said to him that night in the library parking lot.

They’d turned out to be Harold Lyons and his wife. Their son had been part of Justin’s old crowd years ago until he died of a drug overdose. And as much as he tried to forget their words, a part of him knew they’d spoken the truth. He was flying blind when it came to taking care of a little boy and he certainly didn’t have the best role model in his old man in what it took to raise a child.

As for the beautiful lady in front of him…

She’d said she wanted them to be friends, but, hell, that wasn’t possible.

He wanted more than just friendship from Gina, except she wasn’t a one-time, good-time type of gal. And he wasn’t good for anything else.

So he’d stayed clear of her until Racy had arrived at his cabin tonight with this crazy idea. Spending the next couple of hours with Gina while keeping her at a distance was going to be the hardest thing he’d ever done in his life.

“What are you doing here?”

Gina had managed to get her shoe on without his noticing. What he did notice was the surprise in her eyes had turned to suspicion.

“What does it— I’m here to take you to the dance.”

Her blue eyes grew wide. “You’re what?”

“Your date bailed on you, right?”

“He’s sick— Wait, how did you even know I had plans with Ric tonight?”

“You don’t think he mentioned your hot date at all this week?” Justin’s grip tightened on the plastic container, the crackling noise forcing him to relax. “I knew. Everyone at the bar knew. Ah, hello, ma’am.”

Gina’s mother smiled from behind her daughter, but Justin could read the surprise on her face at finding him at her front door. “Hello, Justin. My, don’t you look nice?”

He nudged the brim of his Stetson upward to look her in the eye. “Thank you, Mrs. Steele.”

“Gina, aren’t you going to invite him in?”

He could tell it was the last thing she wanted to do. Hell, it was the last thing he wanted, but she stepped aside and waved him in. He walked into the front hall of the Steele home and was immediately greeted by a wall of framed portraits showcasing the entire family, including Gina’s late father. Gent Steele had been the sheriff of Destiny for as long as Justin could remember and a thorn in the side of the Dillon family for years, or vice versa, until his death in a shoot-out a decade ago.

Yeah, Justin was officially out of his comfort zone.

He followed Gina into the living room, his eyes glued to the nape of her bare neck. She stopped in the middle of the room and turned to look at him, her eyes directed at his Stetson.

He used the moment to drop his gaze and look at anything but her. Their home was simple but cozy with more photos, and quilts and pillows in bright reds, greens and black on sturdy leather furniture. It even smelled good, like a mix of fresh flowers and a home-cooked meal.

He’d finally picked up a used living room set last week, but his cabin was far from a family home despite Jacoby’s drawings on the refrigerator.

It was then he noticed Gina’s mother watching him. Had he ever met a girl’s parents before a date? Not that this was a real date, but even as a teenager it wasn’t something he ever remembered doing. Not the kind of girls he and his brother Billy used to hang out with.

It seemed she was waiting for him to say something so he went for what he hoped would work. “Ah, you have a nice home.”

“Thank you. So, is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” Sandy Steele asked as she pulled on a jacket.

“Justin thinks he’s a stand-in to keep me from being dateless tonight.”

Yeah, that was it in a nutshell, but damn if the way she put it didn’t sting a bit. He doubted Gina’s mother was going to let her precious daughter out the door with a loser like him anyway, no matter how nicely he polished up—as his sister had put it—on such a simple explanation.

“Oh, well that’s nice of you, Justin.” Sandy lifted a casserole dish from the nearby dining room table. “Hank called when I was in the back. He’s not feeling well either, so it’s a DVD and my chicken soup at his place. Oh, would you like me to take your picture before I go?”

Gina waved off her mother’s offer. “Mom, I don’t even know if I’m going.”

Well, that was plain enough. She’d been willing to go with Ric Murphy. Hell, she’d invited him as her date. Now that he’d shown up, all bets were off.

“You know how I feel about that, so I’ll just tell you both how lovely you look and say my good-nights.” Sandy gave her daughter a kiss on the cheek, then headed around the oversize table. “I’ll be home in plenty of time to make sure the twins meet their curfew, so don’t feel you need to rush back here after the dance, sweetheart. Justin, please drive carefully.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Gina followed her mother through the kitchen. Hushed whispers came from the back door, but he couldn’t make out their words. He’d bet a thousand bucks they were talking about him and none of it was good. He turned away and busied himself with looking at even more photos, mostly of the Steele children growing up. He noticed there weren’t that many candid shots of Gina. Just the standard annual school pictures of her in a uniform.

Moments later, the clicking of heels and her familiar scent, a spicy and sweet cinnamon fragrance, told him she’d come back into the room.

“Why are you doing this?”

He turned to her, still amazed at how beautiful she looked. “What do you mean?”

“You show up unannounced—” she paused and bit at her lower lip before she continued “—and just expect me to go with you?”

“I don’t expect anything.”

He heard confusion in her voice, almost as if she thought she wasn’t worthy of getting dressed up and going to the dance.

Or was it just that she didn’t want to go with him?

She was right to feel that way. This night had disaster written all over it, but a promise was a promise.

“Racy showed up at my place about an hour ago,” Justin said. “She told me about Ric calling out of his afternoon shift because he was sick. I guess she checked on him later and found he was still in bed. She was concerned about you missing this shindig and convinced me— Look, if you want to go to the dance alone, that’s fine by me.”

She again bit down on her bottom lip. For some crazy reason he found it incredibly sexy, but it was the wariness in her eyes that told him she was either going to do just that—go alone—or skip this event all together.

Either way, he was out of here.

“Well, I’ve got a beer and a ball game waiting for me.” He started past her. “So if you’ll excuse me—”

“Wait.” She touched his arm, stopping him. “Are those flowers for me?”