A Daddy for Jacoby(41)

It wasn’t until they disappeared into the darkness that he realized his hands were clenched in tight fists. He shook them loose, took a deep breath and tried to put their words out of his head as he climbed into the truck. But deep inside, he knew what they’d said had been the truth.





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?”