A Daddy for Jacoby

by Christyne Butler

  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 h
is 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.

&nbs
p; 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.”