the page, despite the lower and huskier tone of her voice.
Her gaze scanned the kids in the children’s area as she turned the page, making eye contact with Jacoby in the back row. He gave a discreet wave. She winked in return. Behind him were a group of jean-clad legs, visible from the knees down, and a variety of work boots, sandals and cowboy boots.
So which of those legs belonged to Justin?
He wouldn’t just leave the little boy alone in the library, would he? Then again, maybe Justin wasn’t the one who’d brought Jacoby, which blew her “he’s close by” theory out of the water.
Maybe it was all in her head.
And her heart.
Gina steered her focus to the book again, losing herself in the story. The inflections she used in her voice added a bit of flair and drama to the words and the children sat forward, their faces reflecting delight at her theatrical approach.
She’d been surprised when her mother told her just last night as she got back from vacation that she’d volunteered Gina to take over the library’s story hour. But the girl who normally read to the kids needed emergency surgery, so Gina agreed.
After she finished, everyone clapped and then stood to pull on their jackets. She spoke with a few kids and their parents, but her gaze continued to snag on Jacoby standing off to one side by himself, his tattered pillowcase clutched in one hand.
Once alone, she waved him over and dropped to a crouch in front of him so they were eye to eye. “Hey, I’m glad to see you here.”
“Wow, you’re so brown.”
Despite daily lathering of sunscreen, Gina was sporting a brown glow thanks to a touch of Native American heritage in the Steele family bloodline. “I just got back from vacation. Spent a lot of time on the beach and swimming in the ocean.”
“Cool! I’ve never seen the ocean, except on television.”
“Well, it’s even more beautiful in person. All shades of blue and green, from the lightest aqua to deepest navy. And warm enough you can bathe in it.”
Jacoby giggled. “Gee, that’s not like our lake. The water is supposed to be blue, too, but it looks black to me and it’s cold. We worked on the dock yesterday and my dad said I could put my toes in the water. Brrrrr!”
A flutter crossed Gina’s heart at hearing Jacoby call Justin by that special title. Don’t ask, don’t ask, don’t— “So, where’s your dad now?” So much for willpower.
“He’s in the truck.”
Gina frowned. “You’re alone? Why would your dad send you in here by yourself?”
“He didn’t.”
Jacoby had opened his mouth, but the words, low and deep, came from overhead.
From a pair of battle-worn work boots planted right behind the little boy, Gina allowed her gaze to travel upward over faded denim, a worn leather belt and a black T-shirt partially visible beneath a threadbare jean jacket. Rising slowly, she continued her perusal over broad shoulders and a day’s worth of stubble that only seemed to harden angular cheeks and jaw. She reached dark eyes staring at her from beneath the frayed rim of a baseball cap that had seen better days.
“Justin.” Darn, her voice still held that husky tone. “Hello.”
His gaze slowly trailed the length of her before zeroing in on her mouth for a full second. Then he looked into her eyes. “Hello yourself.”
“Did you get it, Dad? Did ya?”
Justin handed whatever it was he carried to the boy. “Right where you left it on the front seat.”
Jacoby took the paper and tugged on Gina’s hand at the same time. “Look! I drew this!”
It took a hard blink to break the hold of Justin’s gaze on her. She again dropped to her knees, this time to look at a crayon drawing. Two figures with matching dark hair stood in a kitchen while a fire blazed in the nearby fireplace. “Wow, this must be of the two of you, huh?”
Jacoby beamed. “We’re baking cookies. We did it twice this week, peanut butter and snickerdoodles. Those are my favorites.”
“And what’s this?” Gina pointed to an oversize box near the fireplace.
“That’s our new television. Dad and I love to watch the vinege cartoons together.”
“Vintage.” Justin offered the correct word.
“Vintage,” Jacoby repeated, then leaned in closer and dropped his voice to a whisper. “That means old.”
She smiled. “Which old cartoons are your favorites?”
“I like Tom & Jerry. Dad likes the Justice League. He says Wonder Woman is his favorite.”
That caused Gina to look up at