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“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.”

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Altersbeschränkung:
0+
Umfang:
211 S. 2 Illustrationen
ISBN:
9781408978450
Rechteinhaber:
HarperCollins

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