“From this moment on, this night is about what you want. So what’s it going to be, Gina?”

Justin leaned in, knowing he shouldn’t touch her, but still he ran the tip of his finger along her jaw.

“I want to dance.”

He straightened. “You want to what?”

“I want to dance,” she repeated softly, “with you.”

He grabbed her hand, and pulled her to her feet as a rock and roll classic pounded through the speakers.

“Justin, are you sure you want do this? Dance with me?”

“More than anything.”

That was a lie. What he wanted to do more than anything was kiss her, but her smile, wide and full of life, captured him. It was the first time he’d seen that smile in almost two weeks. In fact, the last time was when she’d held his son’s simple crayon drawing in her hands.

His son.

Dear Reader,

As a writer there is something magical about creating characters, about breathing life into their souls, hearts and minds. Sometimes the people in our books come to us fully formed and overflowing with personality and charm and troubles that only the writer of their stories can fix.

Then there are those in the background, characters who help tell a story, but not their own. They’re the sibling, cousin, co-worker, or friend who must have their own dreams, desires and plans for the future, right?

Well, Justin Dillon and Gina Steele were those kinds of people.

His sister fell in love with her brother, but if there were ever two people who never needed to come in contact with each other it was Justin and Gina. But then a chance meeting the day they became co-workers in The Sheriff’s Secret Wife started a spark that led to a night neither one of them will forget…or talk about. Now that’s the beginning of a terrific love story!

Then I met Jacoby and I just knew these three very special people needed my help to find their own happily ever after. I hope you enjoy their story!

Happy reading!

Christyne

About the Author

CHRISTYNE BUTLER fell in love with romance novels while serving in the United States Navy and started writing her own stories six years ago. She considers selling to Mills & Boon® a dream come true and enjoys writing contemporary romances full of life, love, a hint of laughter and perhaps a dash of danger, too. And there has to be a happily-ever-after or she’s just not satisfied.

She lives with her family in central Massachusetts and loves to hear from her readers at chris@christynebutler.com. Or visit her web site at www.christynebutler.com.

Books by Christyne Butler

The Cowboy’s Second Chance

The Sheriff’s Secret Wife

*A Daddy for Jacoby

*Welcome to Destiny

A Daddy
for Jacoby

Christyne Butler

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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For Bretton, Christopher, Meaghan, Benjamin,

Kaitlyn and Alyssa

You came into my life unexpectedly and changed

my world forever

I couldn’t love you more if you were my very own

To my agent Jennifer Schober for believing in me

and all her hard work

And to Jacoby Ellsbury, leftfielder for my beloved

Boston Red Sox for inspiring the name for my Jacoby

Chapter One

He was scared.

He hated being scared.

Jacoby pulled his ragged teddy bear tighter to his chest and wiped his wet eyes on the soft overalls Clem wore.

That was his bear’s name, Clem.

The car swerved and tires squealed. Jacoby shut his eyes tight and buried his face in Clem’s fur. He was glad the seat belt worked.

His mama swore and banged her fist against the steering wheel. She cursed the rain, the dark night, their piece of junk car and her miserable life.

Mama did that a lot.

Cursed.

Jacoby didn’t like it, especially after a teacher pulled him aside at the start of the school year and told him that nice people didn’t talk that way. And he wanted to be nice.

He wished his mama was nicer more.

He wished they were back at Miss Mazie’s house, even if he did have to sleep on the floor in a sleeping bag that scratched his legs. But his mama had packed up their stuff, shoved his clothes into the worn pillowcase he used to carry his books and made him crawl out the window.

He’d turned back and watched her take all the money from a jar Miss Mazie thought they didn’t know about. She’d then grabbed two unopened bottles of wine, leaving the almost-empty one where it lay on Miss Mazie’s lap.

It was wrong to steal, but Jacoby didn’t say anything. The last time he’d told his mama she’d done something wrong, his arm had hurt for three days where she’d grabbed him.

So he’d crept into the backseat next to his pillowcase book bag and kept quiet.

They did this a lot. Moved around.

They’d been with Miss Mazie since New Year’s Eve and it would be Easter soon. He’d miss the egg hunt at his school tomorrow and wondered if his teacher would miss him.

He didn’t know where they were going, but he hoped they got there soon. Or maybe the rain would stop when the sun came up and he wouldn’t be so scared.

Lightning lit up the sky and Jacoby waited for the thunder, but it didn’t come. His mama turned back and looked at him, tears on her cheeks.

Now, he was really scared.

She looked silly.

She never looked silly.

Gina Steele studied her reflection in the full-length mirror hanging in the employee break room. She’d been called a lot of s words in her life. Scholarly, serious, studious, solemn.

Even scary, thanks to the jerk who’d sat next to her during her freshman year’s Introduction to Classic Literature class at the University of Notre Dame. It wasn’t her fault at fifteen she’d been the smartest person in the room.

Not to mention the youngest.

Smart was another s word associated her. Until today. Today, silly was the only word that fit.

“Oh, I love it!”

Startled, Gina looked into the smiling green eyes that belonged to Barbie Felton, her best friend and fellow waitress, in the mirror’s reflection. She focused back on her own face and grimaced. “It’s pink.”

“It’s cool.”

“It’s bright.”

With long blond hair, complete with bangs, and her athletic body, Barbie looked more like Skipper, the iconic doll’s little sister, than her namesake. She leaned against the wall. “You can always cover it up. Relax and enjoy it!”

Gina couldn’t help but smile as she twirled the inch-wide streak of pink in her hair.

She’d been excited about rekindling her friendship with her elementary school friend when she returned home to Destiny, Wyoming, last winter. Barbie had been one of the few kids who hadn’t cared that Gina was years ahead of them in the smarts department.

When Gina had left town after the fifth grade to attend a private school, she and Barbie tried to stay in touch. But like most childhood promises, it hadn’t lasted. When Gina started working at The Blue Creek Saloon a few months ago, she was surprised to find that Barbie still lived in town and worked here, too, and they’d reconnected.

“First stop, hair color.” Her friend teased, her voice hushed in a dramatic whisper. “Next up…a tattoo!”

“No way!”

Barbie laughed and turned around. Tucking her thumbs into the waistband of her jeans, she tugged the material lower by a few inches. A purple, green and gold dragonfly flitted across her lower back among colorful flowers and green leaves.

A flash of something coursed through Gina. Jealousy? And was it over the beauty of the artwork or the courage it took to sit still while a needle—” When did you get that?”

“Two weeks ago in Laramie.” Barbie grinned over her shoulder.

“And you’re just showing it to me now?”

“I wanted to wait until it was completely healed so you’d get the full effect.” She spun back around. “It’s going to look so cool next week on the beaches of Nassau in my new bikini.”

A senior at the University of Wyoming, Barbie was planning a trip to the Bahamas to celebrate spring break. Despite the fact Gina had completed graduate school almost a year ago earning her master’s degree, her friend had been after her to join her and her college roommates on the trip.

Gina turned back to the mirror to get a closer look at the streak of hot pink running the length of her dark hair. “I guess this doesn’t seem too wild compared to that.”

“I noticed you didn’t get your hair straightened like you usually do. Hoping to hide the color in all those curls?”

That’s exactly what she’d been hoping.

Gina ran her fingers over the rest of her dark brown hair, her glittery, silver nails sparkling in the overhead lights. Another change.

Her own fingernails, always blunt and well-kept, were just fine, but they weren’t sexy. Barbie had guaranteed her that tips from customers would improve if Gina took her advice and got the fake extensions. She was right and after a few weeks of getting used to them, Gina found she liked the nails and experimented with new colors every few weeks.

First, her nails. Now, her hair. Was she trying too hard to be like everyone else?

She used to love being different, loved studying and learning, feeding her insatiable appetite for knowledge. But after last summer, all she wanted was to belong, to be one of the girls.

“At least it matches your outfit.”

Barbie’s remark pulled Gina from her thoughts. She looked down at her light pink T-shirt. “Good thing I passed on the neon green this morning.”

“You worried what your mom is going to say?”

“I don’t think my mom will even notice. Between the twins, her job and her boyfriend—” Gina shrugged “—she’s got a lot on her plate. Anyway, I’m an adult.”

Barbie crossed her arms over her chest. “So is it the good sheriff you’re worried about?”

“Oh, I’m sure my big brother will have something to say. It might take him a while to notice as he’s still playing newly-wed with our boss.”

Secretly, Gina was glad Racy Steele, the owner of The Blue Creek Saloon and Gina’s new sister-in-law, was keeping Gage so well occupied that he had little time to harass her about her life choices. If he had his way, she’d be putting her degrees and her brains to good use by teaching. But it was high time she stretched her wings and enjoyed herself.

“So what’s his name?”

Gina blinked. “Huh?”

“Well, if it’s not your family you’re rebelling against, it’s got to be a guy—ohmigod, is it Justin?”

“No!”

Justin Dillon.

Tall, dark and one-hundred-percent dangerous with his jet-black hair, dark eyes and lean, muscular body. He’d made it clear to Gina the first day they met that he was unavailable and uninterested.

Not that she let that stop her from spending the night with him a few weeks later. That, too, had gone a long way in changing her image from the “smart” girl to—

To what she wasn’t sure.

“You’re thinking about him.”

Gina spun away from the mirror, heading for the boxes of Blue Creek logo items she’d agreed to put away. “I am not!”

“Hey, I get the attraction.” Barbie followed her. “Justin is a total hottie, but he’s too old, too obstinate and too—I don’t know—”

“Too smart be led around by the nose?”

“Or any other body part,” Barbie said, then giggled. “Okay, so I like my men to treat me like the goddess my daddy tells me I am. But you actually scored a visit to Justin’s apartment upstairs. That’s more than any of the other girls who work here. And you still refuse to spill any details.”

“I told you—”

“I know. You forgot your purse after closing that night so you came back inside the bar and found Justin playing pool. Alone,” Barbie interrupted, reciting the story Gina had told her. “After a few lessons on the fine art of billiards, one thing led to another and the two of you went upstairs.”

“So?” Gina kept her gaze glued to the T-shirts, coffee mugs and key chains she was dividing into separate piles.

“So, inquiring minds want more. When you wouldn’t spill, I figured you were over that one night of crazy, un-Gina-like behavior.” Barbie leaned against the table and propped her chin on her hands, her stare intent. “Now, I’m not so sure.”

Gina’s hands stilled as the memory of that night came rushing back to her.

It’d been just the two of them in the bar until three of his old friends had shown up. Justin made it clear they weren’t welcome and things got unfriendly fast. The fight lasted only a few minutes and afterward she’d refused to leave, despite his protests. Of course, falling asleep in his bed didn’t lend much credibility to her assurance she was staying to keep an eye on him in case he was seriously hurt.

“And I’m guessing you figured no one would’ve even found out about that night if you hadn’t had to step up to be Justin’s alibi,” Barbie added.

Her friend’s comment yanked Gina back to the present. “I wasn’t going to let my brother try to pin that fire at Racy’s house on Justin. Not when I knew there was no way he was involved.”

Once the news of her night with Justin became public, both her mother and older brother had expressed their disappointment over what they assumed had happened that night.

But Gina was tired of being careful. She was also tired of Justin doing his best to ignore her for the last three months.

Much like he’d ignored her that January night when it was just the two of them upstairs in his apartment.

Maybe it was time to do something about that.

They stared at him.

Justin hated it when they stared.

Three months and he was still the talk of the town. Three months since everyone thought the town’s ex-con had tarnished the angelic reputation of the sheriff’s sister by sleeping with her. Three months and it was still considered hot gossip.

Too bad it never happened.

Justin Dillon ignored the two girls giggling outside the hardware store and shoved another load of wood into the bed of his truck. They were probably in high school and at thirty-two, he was old enough to be their father. Almost.

He slammed the tailgate closed and climbed inside the truck that was older than the teenagers gawking at him, but beggars couldn’t be choosers. He started the engine and rolled down the window, letting a spring breeze blow in as he headed down Main Street. April in Wyoming could still bring nasty snowstorms, but lately, it had been sunny and warm.

Good thing, too, as he had plenty of work to do at the cabin. He’d grown tired of living in the makeshift apartment over the bar, especially now that his sister owned the place. She’d let him stay rent-free, but working in the kitchen and sleeping above it had gotten old.

And the memories from that night with Gina were killing him. Dark hair fanned out over his pillows, lush curves outlined beneath his sheets, soft sighs punctuating her sleep.

Yep, that’s all Gina had done.

Sleep.

Him? Not a wink. And it wasn’t because of the beating he’d taken that had left him with a pounding headache and sore ribs.

No, it was more like figuring out why Gina, of all people, had stayed with him.

Justin pulled into the lot at The Blue Creek and parked near the back entrance. He wanted to grab the last of his stuff and take it out to the cabin. Thanks to his new brother-in-law purchasing the old campground across the lake from his log home, Justin had somewhere to call his own for the first time in his life.

The good sheriff had agreed to let him stay in one of the two-bedroom cabins in exchange for fixing up the place. Justin figured Gage did it for two reasons. His wife, who also happened to be Justin’s sister, had asked him to, and Gage wanted to make sure a repeat performance between his little sister and Justin didn’t happen.

Not likely. He was going to make sure of that.

He checked his watch. Almost five. The bar traffic should be light, including the waitstaff, as most of the girls didn’t come in until later.

Not that he was trying to avoid anyone.

Stop trying so damn hard to convince yourself.

He heard feminine laughter as he pushed open the door to the employee lounge. Gina stood atop a ladder, reaching to put a box on the top shelf where the items sold out front were stored. Her T-shirt hugged her curves and as she moved, it rose, revealing a few inches of skin at her midsection.

And Ric Murphy, a college kid who worked as one of the bar’s bouncers, stood behind her making sure she didn’t fall, by conveniently placing one hand on the ladder and the other on the back of one of her jean-clad thighs just beneath her butt.

Justin couldn’t hear what the guy was saying, but Gina must have found it funny because she laughed again. The ladder wobbled and Ric put both hands on her instead of steadying the rickety, aged ladder.

Yeah, that made sense.

“Watch out, Ric!” Gina cried, grabbing hold of the metal shelving. “I’m grateful for your help because Barbie had to leave, but if I fall you’re going to have to catch me.”

“Like that would be a hardship.” Ric grinned. “Having a beautiful woman in my arms—”

Justin banged the door against the wall as he entered, heading for the storage locker located to the right of them. “Don’t mind me.”

Both Gina and Ric jumped and looked at him, but he ignored them. He fumbled with the combination lock, and had to run the combo twice before it sprung open. He yanked open the door and pulled out the boxes he’d stored there.

“Need any help, Dillon?”

Ric’s tone was patronizing, but Justin didn’t rise to the bait. He kept his back to both of them. For whatever reason, Ric Murphy had made it clear from Justin’s first day here that he didn’t like him. “I think you’ve got your hands full.”

Gina gasped, but before she could say anything someone in the hall called Ric’s name.

“I’ve got to go. You going to be okay here?” he asked.

“I’ll be fine,” Gina said. “I’m just about done anyway.”

Ric stepped over Justin’s stuff and walked out of the room. A long pause filled the air before Gina finally spoke.

Just like Justin figured she would.

“That wasn’t very nice.”

“That’s me,” he said, still not looking at her. “Not very nice.”

“He was just helping—”

“Sweetheart, if that’s all you think he was doing, you’ve got a lot to learn.” He pulled out a couple of sleeping bags and pillows and placed them on the pile.

“What do you care anyway—oh!”

Justin spun. It was a split-second decision. The ladder or the girl. He only had time to grab one and the girl was heading toward him. His hands locked onto Gina’s waist, and he pulled her flush against his chest, stopping her fall.

Biting back a curse when the toppling ladder caught him at the knee, he tightened his grip on her waist to keep both of them from tumbling to the floor. Gina twisted in his arms and he found his nose inches from being buried in her soft curves.

“Dammit, hold still.” He expelled his comment with a hiss.

She froze, but her body responded, easily visible through her cotton T-shirt.

He could have set her to the floor, but instead he slowly dragged her down the length of him, causing that soft T-shirt to ride up even more, until they were eye to eye.

“Did you do that on purpose?” he asked, surprised at the huskiness of his voice.

“Do what?”

He didn’t know if she was blushing because of the closeness of their bodies or the fact her soft words matched his. “Reach too far so I’d catch you when you fell.”

The pink tinges of her skin darkened. “Are you crazy? Put me down.” She squirmed and pushed against his shoulders.

“You are down.”

“I can’t feel the floor beneath my feet.”

“Yeah, I’ve been told I have that effect on women.”

Her blue eyes widened, that famous Steele blue color everyone in her family shared, and her lips parted. A musky, exotic scent lifted from her skin. He pulled in a deep breath, instantly associating it with the spicy-yet-sweet flavor of cinnamon with just a hint of sugar added for flavoring.

It brought to mind the rack of spices he used in the kitchen on a daily basis. On more than one occasion he’d grabbed the tin of dusky, reddish-brown powder whether or not cinnamon was called for in the recipe.

Damn, this girl was trouble with a capital T. She was also innocent with a capital I.

Gina was twenty-two years old, ten years his junior. Justin had learned enough about her in the last three months to know she was one part intelligence, one part wholesome and completely out of his league.

“Justin…”

Her voice, low, throaty and way too enticing, snapped him back to reality. He quickly set her away from him, desperate to escape the effect she was having on him, both physically and mentally.

It was then he saw the pink in her hair. It looked like she’d tried to hide it, tucked back behind one ear, but her fall had caused the bright streak of color to spring forward and rest against her cheek.

He knew it was wrong, he even commanded his hand not to move, but his fingers had a mind of their own. They reached up and with the slightest movement, the curl wrapped around his calloused finger.

“What’s this? Your nonconformist side coming out?”

She jerked her head to the side, but he held tight with gentle pressure. “Hmm, wonder what big brother is going to say?”

“Gage doesn’t care what I do to my hair.” The words were strong, but there was little confidence in her voice. “Are you going to let go of me?”

He didn’t want to. What he wanted was to wrap his finger completely around the strand of hair until his hand curled around the back of her neck. Then he’d run his thumb along her jaw, tilt her head upward as his mouth came down—

Whoa, back up! You’ve vowed to stay away from this girl, remember?

Justin released her and turned away. He grabbed two boxes and headed for the doorway when Ric appeared in it.

“Hey, Dillon. You’re wanted out front.”

“What for? I’m not working tonight.”

“You’ve got a visitor.” Ric looked at the ladder lying on the floor. “Hey, someone said they thought they heard a noise—what happened? Gina, you all right?”

Justin put down the boxes and walked out of the room, Gina’s breathless assurance she was okay ringing in his ears.

Was he stupid?

Gina was smart. Too smart. Did she know he’d been inches away from kissing her? He hadn’t looked into her eyes, hadn’t read her body language. Pink lips and a pink curl was all he’d focused on, but she must’ve known…

Just like she had to know he’d been inches away from kissing her three months ago.

He’d been teaching her how to shoot pool for almost an hour and she’d finally gotten the right ball into the right pocket. She’d jumped into his arms and hugged him and he’d never been more tempted in his life.

Then they’d been rudely, but thankfully, interrupted.

Pushing the memory from his head, he entered the main area of The Blue Creek Saloon and saw the tables and booths starting to fill up with the Friday night regulars for dinner. Some would stay for the live music and dancing later and the spring night would bring out the college crowd once the sun went down.

He spotted Jackie, the assistant manager, near the kitchen entrance and headed her way.

A tall blonde and little boy standing nearby hit his radar, but only because he made sure to always be aware of who was in his personal space. A habit he’d picked up in prison, which is why it still bothered him those punks had gotten the jump on him and Gina that night.

“Murphy said I had a visitor?” he asked when Jackie turned to him.

“Yes, you do. This young lady—”

“Justin! Finally!”

The blonde launched herself into his arms and Justin had no choice but to catch her. Unlike Gina’s curves, however, this girl was skin and bones. Her hair and clothes were dirty and she smelled like she hadn’t bathed in a while.

After catching his balance, Justin peeled her arms from around his neck just as Gina and Ric walked in from the back hall. “Ah, I’m sorry, but I don’t know—”

“It’s me, Zoe! Zoe Ellis?” The girl clutched his hands. “You must remember me.”

He didn’t. Over the last three months, his encounters with the opposite sex consisted mostly of conversations with his sister Racy, and his coworkers. Yeah, there had been that girl he’d celebrated his release with when he first got out, but this wasn’t her. And he’d gotten more than a few offers for company from a couple of the waitresses, especially after everyone thought he and Gina had slept together—

Nope, not going there.

Justin forced his attention back on the girl, realizing he’d missed most of what she’d said.

“—and then we got a hotel room and didn’t come out for three days. I tell ya, I can still remember how you—”

“Look, you must have me mistaken with someone else. I’ve been…gone for quite a few years and only got back in town about three months ago.”

“Well, I know it’s been a while, eight years in fact, but I never forgot.” The girl reached for the little boy next to her.

Justin took in the child’s dark hair and eyes, seeing both fear and curiosity in his gaze as he clung to a scruffy-looking teddy bear and a dirty pillowcase that bulged at odd angles.

“In fact, I’ve had a constant reminder of those crazy few days,” she continued. “Meet Jacoby. Your son.”

Chapter Two

Justin couldn’t move. He wanted to. His legs screamed at him to run. Run hard and run fast and never look back. Ashamed at that thought, he shoved it aside to concentrate on what the girl had just said.

“My what?”

She yanked on the kid’s T-shirt, forcing him to stumble forward. “Your son. Jacoby Joseph Ellis.”

At the mention of his father’s name as this child’s middle name, Justin’s gaze snapped from the boy, whose downcast eyes were centered on his own dirty sneakers, one sporting a big hole in the toe, back to her.

“How—He can’t—He can’t be more than five years old. I’ve been in pri—” He paused and pulled in a deep breath. “I’ve been out of touch for the last seven years.”

“He’s small for his age. His seventh birthday was in January. If you count back nine months…”

April. Eight-plus years ago. A few months before he and Billy Joe had been busted for drug trafficking.

A bust he’d actually helped with.

Tired of the life he’d been living, Justin had anonymously slipped insider information to the cops on the drug ring he and his brother worked for. The guilt and fear over what he’d been doing had caused him to live in an alcohol-induced haze for weeks. No drugs, though. He’d never touched the stuff, despite his chosen profession, but partying had included a wild weekend he and his buddies had spent in a small town in Colorado.

Was it possible he was this boy’s father?

He tried to remember the girl as she rummaged in the large purse at her shoulder. She pulled out a wrinkled piece of paper. “Here’s his birth certificate.”

Justin read his name listed as the boy’s father. “If this is true, why now? Why not get in touch with me when he was born?”

“What could you have done from where you were?”

“You knew where I was?” He clenched the certificate in his fist. “But you never thought to tell me you had my baby?”

“Ah, it might be better if you all move to one of the back booths?”

Justin looked up to find Gina standing behind the little boy. He read curiosity, concern and another emotion he couldn’t identify in her eyes. She looked from him to the main area of the bar. He then noticed both Jackie and Ric had disappeared, but the tables had filled up, and most were watching them.

Damn, he should’ve thought of that. “Yeah, that’s a good idea.”

He marched to the other side of the bar and slid into the end booth. He watched Zoe eagerly follow, not even looking back to make sure the boy was with her. She plopped down next to Justin, moving in much too close.

“How about burgers and fries for you two?” Gina asked as she helped the little boy get settled into the opposite seat.

“And sodas,” Zoe added.

“Maybe milk for your son?”

Justin picked up on the edge in Gina’s voice as she stared at him. What? She expected him to make that call?

Zoe waved away the question, her attention on Justin as she rested her hand on his arm. “Oh, he drinks soda all the time.”

“Except at school. I have chocolate milk there.”

Justin shook off Zoe’s touch as the boy spoke for the first time, even though it seemed like he was talking to his bear instead of to one of the adults.

“Chocolate milk is my favorite. I’ll be right back.” Gina’s smile for the boy was sweet, but it disappeared as she shot Justin a hard look before walking away.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Zoe asked.

“What? No, she’s…a coworker.” Justin smoothed out the birth certificate and folded it in half. “I work here at The Blue Creek. How did you know where to find me?”

“I figured this was the best place to start. You talked about this bar that weekend we spent together. Besides, who can forget a town called Destiny?”

The pieces were starting to fall back into place. He and his buddies had gone on a road trip. They’d ended up at a house party and a couple of guys had been in the kitchen giving a girl a hard time. He’d stepped in and she’d stuck by his side the rest of the night.

And the rest of the weekend.

“You told me your name was Susie,” he said, more details surfacing in his foggy brain.

“Yeah, I lied.” She shrugged. “It was just for fun.”

“How do I know you’re not lying now? Just because you put my name on that piece of paper—”

Gina appeared with two plates of food and the drinks, cutting off his words. She must’ve taken someone else’s order to get back so fast. After everything was on the table, she turned to the boy. “Would you like to wash your hands before you eat?”

Justin thought the kid needed to be scrubbed from head to toe, but he kept quiet. Zoe dug into the food, ignoring everything else.

“Okay,” the boy said.

Gina held out her hand and he went with her. “I’ll take him to the kitchen.”

His mother didn’t reply, so Justin nodded. Waiting until they were out of earshot, he grabbed for the soda the same moment Zoe did.

“Hey!”

“You let your son go off with a total stranger?”

Zoe looked at him. “Like she’s going to run off with the kid? She looks like she’s barely out of college.”

If he remembered correctly, Zoe was a few years older than Gina. Unless that had been a lie, too. “You told me you were nineteen back then. Was that the truth?”

She tucked the birth certificate into the pocket of his T-shirt. “Yes. Now, can I have my drink?”

He handed over the soda. “You still haven’t told me why you never got a hold of me.”

“I thought about it when I found out I was pregnant, but then I heard about your arrest. Like I said, there was nothing you could do from where you were heading and heck, we were just a one-night—one-weekend stand.” She paused to take a long swallow from the cup. “I figured I could handle things myself.”

“So, why look me up now?”

“I read you got out of prison early for good behavior. Hey, I’m not going to lie, the last seven years have been hard. I’m not too proud to come and ask for help.”

He didn’t know what to say. Was the kid his? Without a DNA test, he couldn’t be sure, no matter how the dates matched up.

Gina returned with the boy, who started in on his food with an enthusiasm that left Justin wondering when was the last time they’d eaten a meal.

“You make sure you eat all that,” she directed her comments to her son. “I’m gonna go to the bathroom. You be good and don’t give your dad any trouble, you hear?”

The ketchup bottle in the boy’s hand stilled at he looked at his mom with dark eyes. They shifted to lock on to Justin before the child nodded solemnly.

Justin sat mute, having no idea how to respond to her words. He watched her slip out of the booth and head for the front foyer where the restrooms were located. When she disappeared through the swinging doors, he turned his attention back to the boy, noticing they had the same dark hair and eyes.

Jacoby Ellis. His son?

If it was true, shouldn’t he feel something? A pull? A spark? That unexplained connection between parent and child?

He doubted his father ever had felt that toward him, his brother or sister. Joseph Dillon hadn’t had a paternal bone in his body. Justin had only been five when their mother died, but there was never any doubt that she’d loved all her children with a fierce devotion. He was still able to recall the warmth of her touch. And the sound of her tears.

He shook off the memory and noticed the fries were going into the boy’s mouth faster than he could chew. “Hey, take it easy. No one’s going to take away your plate until you’re finished, okay?”

Those dark eyes looked at him again. The boy didn’t speak, but he did slow down. Justin watched him eat for a few minutes, then his own stomach rumbled and he found himself wishing Gina had brought him a burger, too.

Like magic, a plate with a Blue Creek Super Burger appeared in front of him.

Gina stood at the table, her arms crossed. “I figured watching them eat was making you hungry. Besides, something tells me you’re going to need to keep up your strength.”

Justin scowled at her, but grabbed the burger anyway.

“Does that taste good?” She turned her attention to the kid and he nodded, too busy sucking chocolate milk through a straw to reply.

“Where’s your friend?” Her voice was low as she directed the question back at Justin.

He forced down a mouthful of food. “Ladies’ room. Can you believe this? Damn, what a freaking mess—”

“Justin!” Gina cut him off, dropping her hands to the table. She leaned forward, cutting off his view of the boy. Not that he was looking at the kid with Gina’s curves practically laid out in front of him.

Geez, now was not the time for his mind to take that detour. “What?”

“Watch your language.”

Her words came out in a whisper so low that he had to read her lips to get what she was saying. “What did I say?”

She straightened and took a step back, again with the crossed arms. A toss of her head sent her curls—including that darn pink one—flying over her shoulder.

“It’s what you were going to say. You’ve got little ears here,” she whispered. “You need to be careful.”

Justin sighed. She was right. Something told him it was a position Gina Steele, egghead extraordinaire, was probably very used to.

“Okay, I get it. Can you do me a favor and check on Zoe?” he asked. “She’s a little…upset.”

Gina stared at him for a long moment, then nodded and left.

“Your mom will be right back,” Justin said.

The boy only stared at him and clutched his bear tighter. Justin grabbed his burger and nodded to the boy’s half-eaten food. The kid started munching again, but the bear stayed right on his lap.

A few minutes later, Gina came back to the table. Alone.

“What’s going—” Justin read confusion on her face. “Where’s Zoe?”

“The ladies’ room was empty.” Gina again kept her voice low as she turned away from the boy. “I checked with Ric, he’s working the front door. He didn’t see her leave. I even checked the parking lot. Nothing.”

A sucker punch hit Justin square in the gut, harder than the one delivered less than a half hour earlier when Zoe had walked back into his life.

She left? She walked away from her own son?

He stared at the boy, who kept his eyes glued to his plate.

“I think we should call Gage.”

The mention of Gina’s brother—now his brother-in-law—caused a familiar ripple of unease. At best, he and the sheriff tolerated each other. Usually from a distance.

“We need to search the place.” Justin slid to the end of the booth. “Maybe she just wanted to find a quiet spot to…I don’t know, to think, to pull herself together.”

“Ric and a few others are looking for her.” Gina put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. “I’ll call my brother…just in case. You need to stay here.”

Justin nodded.

Gina left again. He eyed the food, but his appetite was gone. His wasn’t the only one. The boy had stopped eating, his gaze glued to the table. Justin knew he should say something, but his mind was a blank.

Less than fifteen minutes later, Gina was back with her brother right on her heels, but she disappeared when Gage started talking.

“So, what’s going on?” Gage said. “Who’s the little guy?”

The boy shrank into the corner of the booth, his eyes locked on the newcomer. Despite being the sheriff of Destiny for the last decade, Gage rarely wore a uniform. Fully recovered from a gunshot wound that had him in the hospital a few months ago and at just over six feet tall, he could be pretty imposing even in jeans, his trademark leather jacket and Stetson.

Justin rose from the booth. His height matched his brother-in-law’s and blocked the boy’s view. “His name is Jacoby Ellis,” he said, keeping his voice low. “And I’m told—not that I’m a hundred-percent sure—he’s my son.”

The widening of Gage’s eyes and the bracketing of his hands on his hips were his only reaction to the news.

Justin fought against mimicking Gage’s body posture and kept his hands loose at his side. “His mother showed up, introduced us and grabbed a bite to eat. The last I knew she was headed to the bathroom.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Twenty minutes. Maybe a little bit more.”

Gage nodded. “The mother’s name?”

“Zoe Ellis.”

Gina reappeared at her brother’s shoulder. “Racy’s here. She suggested we go to her office. It’s more private and this place is filling up with customers.”

Justin nodded and turned around, but Gina was already there. She grabbed Jacoby’s pillowcase and got him out of the booth. Justin and Gage followed. Racy’s golden retriever greeted them when they opened the office door.

“Oh, it’s okay.” Gina squatted next to the boy when he shrank back, bumping into Justin’s legs. “This is Jack and he’s the sweetest pup. Here, let him smell your hand.”

Jacoby stretched out his fingers. Jack proceeded to sniff them, then immediately moved in to offer a few quick licks to the boy’s face.

Justin reached for the dog’s collar, but stopped when the sound of the child’s laughter filled the air.

Followed by a gasp from Justin’s sister.

He looked up to see Racy’s gaze flying between him and Jacoby. “Sis, what’s wrong?”

Racy turned toward her desk and rummaged in one of the drawers. Justin and Gage went to her, while Gina settled the boy and the dog on the leather couch against the far wall.

“Honey, what are you looking for?” Gage asked.

Racy pulled out a manila envelope from the last drawer. “This,” she said, dumping the contents on her desk.

Photographs, black-and-white and colored, likely decades old, scalloped edges on some and rounded corners on others. She flipped through the images until she pulled out a small one.

“Thank goodness I had these stored here instead of at the house. They would’ve been lost in the fire. Here’s your proof.”

“Proof?” Justin asked.

“Gina told me about your surprise visitor and that precious little boy.” Her gaze lingered on the occupants on the couch. “As soon as you all walked in the door, I knew.”

“Knew what?”

“Look at this picture.” She shoved the photograph into his hands. “That’s you. First grade.”

It was him. But it was also Jacoby. The image could’ve been of the same person. The dark hair and eyes, the square line of the jaw even at such a young age. They even wore the same colored T-shirt, red.

“Maybe you better fill us in completely,” Gage said, taking out a small notebook. “If his mother has taken off, we’ll need everything you know to try and find her.”

“I think I’ll head out now.”

Justin turned to see Gina at the door. The boy was reading a book he must’ve pulled from his pillowcase. One hand turned the pages; the other was busy scratching the neck of a very content Jack.

“No, stay.”

Gina’s elegant brows rose at his tone.

“Please,” Justin quickly added. “The kid seems—he seems at ease with you.”

Her fingers tightened on the doorknob and Justin thought she was going to leave anyway. But she gave him a quick nod and moved back to the couch.

Justin turned back to the sheriff and his sister. They both stared at him. He ignored the unspoken questions in their gazes and told them what had happened in the last hour. Then he described how he had met Zoe eight years ago.

“I didn’t believe her at first. Maybe I didn’t want to. Hell…me? A father?” Justin winced and waved the photograph in the air. “But seeing this…”

“Okay, let’s see if the boy can help us out,” Gage said.

He couldn’t. Or wouldn’t.

After answering a few questions that revealed the name of his elementary school, a town in Colorado and that his mom’s car was tan and a piece of junk, Jacoby clammed up, refusing to answer any more.

“It’s not much, but I’ll start with finding out exactly where Templeton, Colorado, is.” Gage rose from where he’d knelt by the couch. He motioned for Justin and Racy to join him back at Racy’s desk. “I’m heading to the office to make an official report. Now, what are we going to do with this little guy tonight? Or the next couple of nights? It’ll probably take until Monday or Tuesday before we get anywhere.”

“Why can’t he stay with Justin?” Gina asked from across the room.

Justin turned, her question yet another sucker punch to his gut. At this rate, his insides would be black and blue. “Are you serious?”

“You are his father.”

“We don’t know that—”

Both Gage and Justin spoke at the same time.

“—officially,” Gage finished. When Gina opened her mouth to protest, he held up his hand to cut her off. “Yes, I agree all the signs point in that direction, but until a test can be done we don’t know for sure. I can place a call to child services. They can find a local foster home.”

The sheriff’s words caused the pain sitting square in Justin’s gut to radiate throughout his body.

The entire room faded as the memory of his father yelling, words slurred thanks to the alcohol running through his veins, took over. He’d often threaten him, Billy Joe and Racy with horror stories of being shipped off to child services. At the time, the unknown hell he’d described sounded a lot worse than the hell they were living.

“Justin?”

Racy’s voice pulled him from the memory, in time to see the door close behind Gina. She must think he was actually going to—

He turned back to his sister and Gage when he felt a small hand, clammy and cold, against his own. He looked down. Jacoby stood next to him, squeezing his fingers, and those dark eyes stared up at him.

“He’s coming home with me,” Justin said.

The boy didn’t speak or smile, but the haunted look that filled his eyes when they had tried to get information about his mother from him faded.

“You sure?” Gage asked. “What kind of condition is the cabin in?”

“It’s a mess but livable. I’ve been staying there for the last couple of weeks.”

“Having a little boy around is totally different from being there alone,” Racy added. “Do you have enough food? What about heat? It still gets pretty chilly at night. We’ve got room at our place—”

“We’ll be fine,” Justin insisted. “The fireplace is working. And I can’t believe you’re really asking me—the best cook you’ve got—if I’ve got enough food.”

Racy smiled at that. “Okay, you’ve got me there. Gage told me you got those antique kitchen appliances working again, but—”

“No buts.” He hoped the confidence in his voice sounded real, because the words rang hollow as they rolled off his tongue. “We’ll be fine.”

An hour later, he wasn’t so sure.

He’d finished loading his truck with Gage’s help, then he and Jacoby headed out. Seeing his place through the eyes of a child who stood in the doorway clutching his meager belongings made him realize the cabin was more a construction zone-slash-bachelor pad than a home.

It had grown dark on the ride out to the lake and the only lights in the cabin were in the kitchen, the bath and one secondhand lamp sitting on the floor in the living room. He’d turned on the lamp, and a fire helped warm up the place, both in temperature and looks.

He didn’t say much to Jacoby except to repeatedly warn him away from the tools and construction materials that seemed to fascinate the boy. Of course, the kid hadn’t said two words since he’d hugged Racy’s dog goodbye at The Blue Creek.

“I’ve got to get some stuff out of the truck.” Justin stood near the open door, the dark night an alluring draw. “Just sit there until I’m done and don’t touch anything, okay?”

Jacoby looked at the folding chair that sat inches off the floor. He dropped into it, pulling his pillowcase to his feet and tucking his bear into his lap. The bag, torn and dirty, was definitely on its last leg.

Justin could relate.

What in the hell was he doing? He didn’t have any experience with kids other than being one himself. Agreeing to bring Jacoby home had been instinct, born out of his hellish childhood memories. He was flying blind here, praying he was doing the right thing.

Whatever that might be.

He stepped outside, leaving the oak-planked door open, glad for the screen door he’d installed just yesterday. The overhead lamp automatically came on, lighting up the porch that ran the length of the cabin. The night air had a bracing chill, and he inhaled deeply as he stepped onto the dirt driveway. There was still a load of wood to get out of the back of the truck, but at the moment, he just gazed up at the stars.

This morning, his biggest worry was deciding which of the bedrooms in the cabin to tackle next. This afternoon, it had been reaffirming his vow to stay far away from Gina, knowing he was the wrong guy for her despite how great it felt to have her in his arms again.

And now? Now he might be a father.

A crashing noise had Justin racing back inside. Jacoby stood at the kitchen sink, an overturned wooden crate next to him and a plastic cup on the floor.

“I was thirsty,” he said.

Surprised that the boy had finally spoken, Justin pulled in a deep breath and commanded his heart to stop its wild pounding in his chest. It wasn’t listening.

He grabbed a water bottle from the refrigerator and plopped down on the overturned crate. “Here.”

The boy didn’t move.

“It’s okay. You can have it.”

“I won’t finish all that.”

Justin unscrewed the lid and offered it again. “No worries. We can put the top back on.”

The boy took the bottle and drank. It was then Justin noticed the photograph clutched in his hand. “What’s that?”

His small fist, and the photo, disappeared behind his back.

“I’m not going to take it. I’m just wondering who’s.” Justin’s voice faded.

Could that image be a clue to finding Zoe? He reached into his T-shirt pocket and pulled out the photograph he’d tucked there, behind Jacoby’s birth certificate. He showed it to the boy. “See this?”

Curiosity had the boy leaning forward. “It’s me.”

Justin’s gut tightened, a reflex against the emotional punches he’d been taking all night. “No, actually that’s me. Back when I was your age.”

Jacoby slowly pulled the picture out and turned it around. “This is you, too.”

Creased down the middle, the fold split the image of a couple sitting arm in arm on a beat-up sofa. They held beers in their hands and goofy smiles on their faces. Him and Zoe. It must’ve been taken the night they met.

And the hits kept coming.

Justin swallowed hard before he spoke. “Did your mom give you that?”

The boy nodded. “She said it’s her and my daddy. She said my daddy had gone away for a long time, but soon I’d go and live with him and he’d take care of me ‘cause she can’t anymore.”

There it was.

The final blow. A solid right hook that sent him to the mat. Thank goodness he was already sitting because he doubted his knees would’ve held him upright.

She’d planned this.

Zoe had come to town purposely to leave her son with him. That meant even if by some strange twist, he wasn’t the kid’s father, he was still left holding the bag. One that was every bit as precious as the one Jacoby dragged along behind him.

Chapter Three

“I don’t know about this. It might not be a good idea.”

Gina looked at Jack. The golden retriever sat on his haunches in the passenger seat, tongue lolling out the side of his mouth, panting in anticipation.

“I’ve been overflowing with less-than-stellar ideas lately. Just look at my hair. Do you think I’m doing the right thing?”

Jack barked once and she took it as an affirmative.

Her car crawled over the dirt road, the beam from the headlights bouncing off the thick forest of trees. She glanced at the clock. Almost eight. She still had over an hour before she was supposed to meet Barbie and her friends in Laramie.

“Then again, I’m sure everything we’re bringing is needed.” She glanced at the list resting in the cup holder. “Yes, this is a good idea, a great idea. I can do this. I’ll just drop the stuff off, make sure they’re okay and leave. How’s that sound?”

Jack leaned forward and licked her ear. Another yes.

She pulled up next to Justin’s battered pickup and cut the engine. She hadn’t been out here since last fall when Gage had shown the family around his newly purchased land. Her older brother had wanted this old camp ever since he’d bought the ten acres on the other side of the lake where he’d built the log home he and Racy now lived in.

With the help of the full moon and clear skies, she could make out a few of the eight cabins that dotted the shore on this side of the lake, one of the largest right in front of her.

Justin’s cabin.

She waited, but when no one stepped outside, she shoved the list into her pocket, grabbed the laundry basket from the backseat and headed for the front porch. Jack led the way.

The smell of freshly cut wood mixed with the pungent scent from the pine trees that surrounded the house. A light shone on newly built porch planks that stretched the length of the cabin.

Even as her breath puffed before her face in chilled air, she could easily picture a pillow-laden swing hanging from overhead chains at the far end of the porch, facing the water. A perfect spot to enjoy a cool glass of lemonade on a hot summer evening while listening to the lake and the woods.

“Oh, stop daydreaming,” she muttered and turned back, giving the screen door a quick knock while managing to hold on to the heavy basket.

Nothing.

She leaned closer and peered inside through the mesh. There, in the kitchen. Justin sat on a crate with his back to her while the little boy, barely visible beyond Justin’s wide shoulders, stood directly in front of him.

Should she interrupt? Maybe she should leave the basket—

No. She’d decided it was important enough to pull these things together and get them here. Tonight. Add the touch of guilt she’d felt because she’d actually thought Justin was going to let that sweet little boy go off with strangers.

Okay, deep breath.

She knocked harder and this time Jack added a deep woof.

Justin spun around, his dark piercing eyes fixed on her. A ripple moved across her lower stomach, momentarily taking her breath away. It was a familiar visceral response to this man she still hadn’t gotten used to. It’d happened the first time she’d ever laid eyes on him, that afternoon in Racy’s office back in January, and every time he’d looked at her since.

Because he didn’t just look at her. No, his gaze locked with hers, like a radar beam on a target. And she was always the one who looked away first.

Except for the night he’d been battered and hurt. That night it’d been Justin who couldn’t hold her gaze as he sat on the opposite side of the room while she crawled beneath his sheets—

She scrubbed the memory from her mind, but noted that same intuitive feeling had taken root low in her belly earlier today when he’d held her in his arms in the storeroom. She hadn’t fallen on purpose, no matter what he thought. And once she was in his arms, her femme fatale plan to get him to pay attention to her had gone up in smoke the moment his dark eyes latched on to her.

Why was it she could use her newly acquired flirting skills on Ric with no problems? Because he flirted back? Not Justin.

He didn’t flirt.

He smoldered.

Gina pasted a smile on her face, and decided to forgo the flirting and settled for friendly. “Hi, am I interrupting?”

That was stupid. Of course, she was interrupting.

The boy leaned around Justin. “Jack!”

The dog barked in response, and Gina angled one leg to keep the animal from jumping against the screen. “Hope you don’t mind us stopping by. When I heard about—When I found out you…”

Her voice trailed off as Justin gave a deep sigh, rose and headed for the door.

He didn’t want her here. And if a little boy hadn’t been standing in the middle of the room waiting to see Jack, he probably would’ve slammed the inside door in her face.

Instead he put his hand against the frame and paused, but then pushed open the screen door. Jack crossed the threshold and headed straight for the boy, but Gina waited to be invited.

“I’m not really in the mood for company.”

She turned her gaze up at him. Way up. She stood only five and a half feet tall, even in her favorite Tony Lama boots, and Justin easily towered over her. “I’ve got plans. I won’t be here long.”

Silence stretched between them. He filled the doorway with his broad shoulders, his hands braced on the frame and the mussed tufts of his dark hair skimming the top of the doorway.

He pushed the door open wide. “Well?”

She didn’t move forward, but she didn’t back away either. It was a small victory. “Well what?”

He cocked his head to one side, his gaze burning a path from her face to her boots as he took his leisurely time studying her. “Are you going to stand out there like Little Red Riding Hood with her basket,” he asked, “or are you coming in?”

She swallowed hard and glanced down. Beneath her jean jacket, her long-sleeve jersey top was a deep wine color and the lace-edged tank top that peeked from beneath the scooped neckline was black, but she guessed it was close enough.

“Coming in.”

She hefted the basket and took a step, bumping it into Justin’s midsection when he didn’t move back fast enough.

“I’ll take that.”

He let go of the door and reached for the basket’s handles. The heat of his calloused hands scorched her skin, taking her back again to when he’d caught her midtumble from the ladder. It was the closest they’d been in each other’s personal space in months.

Even when they happened to be working the same shifts at the bar, they’d managed to keep a respectable distance from each other, especially after he’d made it clear he wasn’t interested in being friends, or anything else.

Not after that cold January night when he’d laughed at her attempts at playing pool and then demonstrated, his strong arms wrapped around her, how to hold a pool cue. He’d taught her to aim, shoot and celebrated with her when she’d finally managed to get the ball into the pocket. A celebration that she was sure was going to include his mouth on hers until—

With a mental shake, she dispelled the memory, pulled her hands from the basket and scooted into the cabin. An oversize toolbox and a variety of power tools littered the floor. The only furniture was a couple of camping chairs. Rolled sleeping bags sat atop a group of rumpled blankets.

Cardboard boxes, some open, others still taped up, lined one wall of the large room. Nothing covered the many windows, allowing the dark night to creep in. The only bright spot was a cheery fire blazing in a beautiful stone fireplace.

“Hey, Jacoby.”

He sat on the floor, teddy bear on his lap and a water bottle in one hand. Jack laid next to him, flat on his back, never one to pass up a belly rub. “Watch out, that mangy mutt will expect you to rub him for hours.”

Jacoby offered a small grin, but his gaze shifted past her. He then ducked his head and concentrated on the dog.

“What are you doing here?” Justin crossed the room and placed the laundry basket on the countertop that separated the kitchen from the living room. “Does my sister know Jack’s with you?”

She followed, her gaze drawn to the darkened kitchen. The antique stove and refrigerator, complete with chrome accents, reminded her of her late grandmother’s house.

A throat clearing told her he was waiting for an answer.

“Of course Racy knows.” She joined him at the counter. “She’s the one who suggested I bring him after seeing Jacoby with him earlier.”

“So your brother knows you’re here, too?”

“Not that it matters, but my brother is at work. I went back to the bar because I forgot my paycheck.” she paused, then lowered her voice “.with all the craziness earlier. Racy told me about you bringing Jacoby home instead of—well, you know—”

“Passing the kid off to yet another stranger?” Justin half turned, resting his arms on the basket. His tone matched hers. “Throwing another curveball at him? I mean, it’s not like he’s had enough to deal with today.”

Okay, she deserved that. She tucked a strand of curls behind one ear that included the pink one and forced herself to look him in the eye. “That was so unfair of me. I apologize.”

The uncertainty in his gaze was achingly familiar; she’d seen the same wariness in another set of dark brown eyes.

Jacoby’s.

“I figured you might not have stuff a little boy needs.” She pulled a paper bag from the basket and set it on the counter. “I grabbed a half-gallon of milk, some apples and bananas, a box of cereal that my brother Garrett refused to touch. Too healthy, he says—”

“I’ve been living here for the last few weeks,” Justin interrupted her. “I do have the means to keep from starving.”

“Oh, well…I didn’t think you’d have real food.”

He waved a hand toward the refrigerator. “What do you think that is? An oversize beer cooler?”

“I meant food for a child.”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “And what kind of food do they eat exactly?”

Gina opened her mouth, but clamped it shut again when she realized she didn’t have an answer.

“The appliances might be ancient, but despite their outward appearance, they’re clean and in working order.” He took a step back. “Go ahead, take a look.”

He should be angry that she’d assumed he lived in a place equivalent to a fraternity house with nothing but beer and junk food, but he wasn’t. He sounded almost amused.

Gina’s cheeks flamed with embarrassment that probably matched the pink in her hair. She grabbed the bag and made a wide circle around him into the kitchen. She pulled on the refrigerator’s tarnished handle and the door popped open. Light spilled out, highlighting the aged but spotlessly clean interior and its contents. Milk, orange juice, bottled water, eggs and sandwich meats lined the three shelves. Two drawers at the bottom were filled with fruits and vegetables. A half-dozen beer bottles stood in line on the narrow door shelf. It took only a moment to put most of her meager offerings inside.

“I brought a pack of baloney, but the meat drawer is full.” She didn’t look at him, only tapped a fingernail against the metal door to the inside freezer. “Can I put it in here?”

“Sure.”

She opened the door and shoved it inside, noting the frozen chicken and steaks, a few ready-to-eat pizzas and the open end of a bright yellow box. She looked over her shoulder. “You even have popsicles…”

Her voice faded as he moved into the darkened kitchen, stopping to lean against the counter. The only light in the room came from the open refrigerator, but considering Justin’s height, it only shined on his lower half, emphasizing long legs encased in well-worn jeans.

“I like the taste of something sweet every now and then,” he said.

Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t ask.

It took pushing her tongue against the roof of her mouth to stop from wondering aloud what his favorite flavor was. It worked, just barely, and she closed the door. She offered a silent prayer the dimness of the room was enough to hide the blush heating her face.

A snap sounded and the room flooded with light from twin pendent fixtures that hung from the ceiling directly over a center butcher-block island.

She couldn’t resist looking around, noting that despite the chipped countertops, cabinets sporting faded white paint, some missing their doors entirely, the room was clean and well stocked. A toaster sat on the counter near a dish drainer and a trio of new windows, filled the wall over the sink.

“What were you expecting? A heap of fast-food containers and empty beer bottles?”

It was as if he could read her mind.

Shame filled her. Three steps and she invaded his personal space, laying her hand on his folded arms. “Justin, I’m sorry I misjudged you. I should’ve known the first room you’d have fixed up and in working order would’ve been the kitchen. You’re a chef, after all.”

He straightened and stepped away from her touch. “I’m not a chef. I’m a cook. Plain and simple.”

He was hardly that. The staff had raved over the dishes he’d invented and Racy was smart enough to add many of them to The Blue Creek’s menu. It still amazed Gina he’d learned that skill in prison.

“I hafta go the bathroom.”

Both of them swung around when the small voice came from the living room.

“Okay,” Justin said. “Go.”

Jacoby just stood there, his bear in one hand and the other resting on Jack’s neck as the dog sat next to him.

A pained expression came over Justin’s features, but when he caught her looking at him, he quickly erased it. “You don’t have to ask for permission. You can just go. It’s right through that doorway. The light is on the outside.”

Jacoby headed across the room, the dog on his heels.

“Jack, stay. He doesn’t need your help—” Gina said.

Both stopped, but only Jack looked at them, the corners of his mouth curving upward into the humanlike grin that always seemed to be on the dog’s face.

“I don’t care if he comes with me.”

Gina looked at Justin, who only shrugged.

“Then I guess it’s okay,” she said to the boy, “but be careful, he’s known to drink out of the toilet.”

Jacoby turned, his face screwed up with disgust. “Eww, gross.”

Gina grinned. “Totally gross.”

The boy and dog disappeared through the doorway and the sound of a door closing echoed through the cabin.

Justin moved back to the counter. “Remind me never to let that dog kiss me again. So, what else do you have in here?”

“Ah, sheets and a blanket, which I can now see you don’t need.” She waved at the bedding on the floor near the fireplace as Justin dug into the basket. “A few books, a night-light—”

“What is this?”

Gina gasped.

Swinging from Justin’s index finger was her new black satin bra, complete with lace and a skull-and-crossbones pattern mixed with the word vixen in bold letters over each cup.

“I’m guessing this isn’t for me?”

“Give me that!”

Gina grabbed for the bra, but Justin easily held it out of her reach as he stepped backward into the living room.

“So where are the matching panties?” he asked.

On her. She’d meant to wear the set, but she hadn’t been able to find the matching bra. Now she knew why. Not that she’d tell him that. Then she realized she didn’t have to, her silence gave him his answer. A hot and intense spark flashed in his gaze. No, that couldn’t be right. It had to be the flames from the nearby fire reflecting off those dark eyes, because seconds later it was gone.

A loud creaking preceded the opening of the bathroom door. Justin turned toward it. She grabbed for the bra, but he closed his grip. A quick tug-of-war ensued before she won and stuffed the sexy lingerie into her jean jacket pocket just as Jacoby and the dog came back in the room.

“What ya doing?” Jacoby asked.

“Nothing.”

Justin’s one-word answer matched hers.

“Don’t look like nothing.”

Jacoby moved to stand in front of her, the dog still at his side. He planted his little feet and crossed his arms over his chest, his bear caught in between. Gina’s heart softened as she looked down at her pint-size protector.

She raised her gaze to Justin, praying he understood. The blank look on his face told her he didn’t.

“Jacoby, I didn’t hear any water running while you were in the bathroom,” she asked. “Did you forget to wash your hands?”

He looked at her over his shoulder. “Huh?”

“It’s important to wash your hands every time you go to the bathroom.”

“It is?”

Gina nodded. “Why don’t you go—Or better yet, how about a bath before you head to bed?”

Jacoby shook his head. “He doesn’t have a bathtub.”

She looked back at Justin. “You don’t?”

“It’s a stand-up shower.”

“But it does have two places where the water comes out,” Jacoby added. “And one is just my size.”

“I put in a regular shower head and a handheld,” Justin leveled one hand at his waist. “You know, at hip level?”

She locked down the image of Justin standing naked in his shower, water hitting his skin from both angles, before it even had a chance to spring to life.

Gina turned her attention back to the boy. “Ah, okay. A shower, then?”

“I guess so, if I hafta.”

“Yes, you have to,” Justin said, reaching for the battered pillowcase near the chair. “You got clean clothes in here?”

Jacoby got to it first and grabbed the bag, holding it close to his chest. “I got pajamas.”

Justin backed away, hands held high in surrender. He looked at her and she nodded for him to continue, hoping he saw it as encouragement.

“Why don’t you head into the bathroom and get undressed and I’ll get the water set for you?”

“Okay.” Jacoby headed back toward the doorway.

Jack started for the boy, but Gina grabbed his collar. “You stay here. I think that room is going to be crowded enough.”

“You gonna be here when I’m done?” Jacoby turned back to ask.

She didn’t dare look at Justin or her watch. “If you’d like me to be.”

The boy nodded vigorously.

“Then I’ll—” she patted Jack’s head “—we’ll be here.”

Jacoby headed for the bathroom again.

Justin followed, then stopped and faced her. “What was all that? Him standing between us?”

Gina moved closer and looked around Justin to make sure the boy wasn’t listening. “I think he was protecting me. Maybe something he’s done in the past? For his mom?”

Justin nodded, but remained silent for a long moment. “You don’t have to stay.”

“I told him I would.”

A sharp pain pierced her chest when Justin didn’t reply but walked away. She ignored it, refusing to decide if it was a result of Justin’s or Jacoby’s actions. She turned away, heard a door open, then close, and a few minutes later the rush of running water.

A low whimper from Jack had her reaching out to scratch his head. “Don’t worry, pal. We’ll stick around, at least for a little while.”

She looked around the room. Not the best layout for a little boy who obviously needed a good night’s sleep. Hanging her jean jacket carefully on a hook by the door, she pushed up her sleeves and went to work.

Any bedrooms the cabin had must be down the same hallway that led to the bathroom, but she figured they had to be uninhabitable if Justin was sleeping out here. It took only a few minutes for her to shake out the sleeping bags, thick quilts and pillows on the floor and with the stuff she’d brought, make up twin sleeping pallets in front of the fire.

She moved the power tools to the far wall and stacked leftover pieces of cut wood into an empty box. A broom she found helped clean up the scarred wood floors. The night-light was plugged in and the kitchen lights and floor lamp turned off. Jack circled three times before curling up at the end of one of the pallets, putting his head on his paws.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” she huffed, pointing a finger at the mutt. “I need to get you back to your mama soon.”

He just closed his eyes and started snoring.

“What have you done?”

She whirled around. Justin stood behind her, his T-shirt, jeans and hair all varying levels of wet. “What happened to you?”

“Jacoby kept opening the shower curtain. I think he was afraid I was going to go through his pillowcase.” He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it off his face, except for one piece that fell back onto his forehead. “You haven’t answered my question. What happened out here?”

She clenched her hands together, determined not to fix that wayward lock. “I just—He’s exhausted. You must be, as well. I figured if things were ready when you two got back out here it would be easier for him to fall asleep.”

“I can handle laying out a few blankets.”

“I’m not saying you can’t. I was only trying—Hey, Jacoby.”

Face pink and shiny clean from the hot shower, the little boy’s features clearly showed his exhaustion as he walked into the room, dragging his pillowcase behind him.

“Why don’t you crawl between the blankets over here with Jack?” she said, ignoring Justin’s pointed look. “Would you like to read a book before you go to sleep?”

The boy stilled for a moment, before he shook his head. He stumbled past Justin, tucked the pillowcase under the top corner of the sleeping bag and crawled inside, hugging his stuffed bear. Jack scooted up to stretch out next to him and Jacoby wrapped one arm across the dog’s shaggy belly.

“I think Jack wants to spend the night.” Bending over, Gina gave the dog a quick pat. “Is that okay with you, Jacoby?”

Jacoby nodded, but Gina noticed his half-closed eyes were trained on her hair. He reached out and traced a tiny finger along a strand of curls. “Pink. I like it.”

Her heart squeezed in her chest. She opened her mouth to reply, but the sound of a throat clearing stopped her.

Jacoby’s eyes widened and he looked past Gina’s shoulder. “Can he…can Jack…stay?”

Gina straightened and turned in time to see Justin’s quick nod. He then centered his gaze on her, his eyes hooded, as well, but not from fatigue. No, she guessed he wanted her out of here and the quicker the better. “I guess it’s settled, then. I’ll call Racy to tell her about Jack.”

“I’ll do that. He comes over all the time from their place.”

“Well, I’ll see myself out. Bye, Jacoby.”

The boy was already fast asleep. She headed for the front door, grabbed her jacket and wrenched open the handle, stepping outside.

“Gina, wait, you dropped…”

She paused and turned around. Justin stood in the open doorway, a scrap of paper in his hand. She cringed as his eyes scanned the writing.

“What’s this? ‘Doctor’s appointment, new clothes, register at school.’” He glared at her, his eyes sharp and piercing, his voice a low rumble. “You wrote this?”

She lifted her chin. “I’m just trying to—”

“Help. Yeah, I know. I think I’ve made it clear that I don’t need your help.”

“So I brought over a few groceries and swept your floors. It’s not a big deal. Jacoby seems to be sleeping fine, so I guess I didn’t upset him too much by stopping by. You, on the other hand, can’t seem to wait to get rid of me. Why is that?”

His eyes narrowed. “Aren’t you late for something?”

“Yes, I am. You know, you might want to try the words thank you on for size. If you think you can pull them on over that massive chip on your shoulder.”

Gina spun away as he crumpled the paper in his fist. She stomped to the car and had the driver’s side door open when she heard his front door close with a loud thud. Seconds later, she was behind the wheel and gunned the engine.

So much for good ideas.

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