A Daddy for Jacoby(3)

“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.