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“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.
