The Back-Up Plan (13 page)

“I think it would work just fine. Besides, I’d really like you to go,” he coaxed, his expression all serious and needy now. “You’d have a good time.”

Absolutely not—no matter how needy he looked. “I don’t do football games,” she said firmly. His hopeful expression fell.

“How about just the dance then?”

His resourcefulness amazed her. No. She would not go. No way. “Yes,” she responded, shaking her head from side to side as evidence that she meant what she said.

“Yes?” He looked confused. “Or no?”

Why on earth did she say that? She had said yes, but she had meant to say no! Her heart climbed into her throat. She couldn’t do this. “No! I meant to say no,” she blurted.

“But you
said
yes.”

It was no use. She couldn’t say no. How could he make her feel this way with merely a look or smile? Just as he had promised, the man hadn’t even touched her. He hadn’t had to—just being near him turned her to putty. “All right, all right. Yes, I’ll go to the dance with you.” Somehow she knew she would regret the decision.

“Great. I’ll meet you at the front entrance to the gym around nine.”

“Fine,” she said, though fine didn’t begin to describe exactly what she felt right now.

“Fine,” he echoed, a triumphant smile plastered across his handsome face.

What was that green stuff on his jaw? Try as she might, she couldn’t continue to ignore it. “Did you have art today?” she asked with a smile that would be contained no longer.

“As a matter of fact, we did. Why do you ask?”

“You’ve got,” she touched the spot on his cheek wishing with all her might she hadn’t, “a little smudge of green paint here.” Donna rubbed the spot with the pad of her thumb. The feel of his skin sent shock waves rumbling through her. “It’s dry...I can’t get it off.”

Before she could draw her hand back, he nabbed it and moved it toward his mouth. Their gazes locked as he touched his tongue to her thumb. Warm and wet, the sensation was incredibly erotic. The feel of his mouth against even that small part of her caused her breath to catch.

“That should get it.” He moved her hand back to his jaw. When she had rubbed the paint away, he let his hand slip from hers. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Donna tried to smile, but her lips wouldn’t make the transition. Her heart pounded against her ribcage. She knew the symptoms, control was disintegrating.

“I really should get back out to the lobby.” Donna backed up a step. Why were people like him born with such magnetism that everyone in their presence gravitated toward them? Being drawn to Hank felt as natural and unavoidable as breathing.

“Oh, by the way.” He straightened and plowed a hand through his hair. “Whatever you said to Masters, you got her off my back about Stevens.” He gave Donna a lopsided grin that jangled her nerves. “I owe you one, Doc.”

“Actually I owed you for taking care of Melissa,” Donna admitted, trying not to sound as unsteady as she felt. “Besides, I rather enjoyed watching her reaction to my opinion.”

“A girl after my own heart,” he murmured. His voice teased, but his eyes relayed just how badly he wanted to move a step closer.

Donna smiled and pulled the door open. She stepped back for him to pass. “Next time you drop by, Coach, make sure you actually need medical attention.” She lifted her gaze to his, hoping with all her heart that he wouldn’t linger.

“Next time I’ll tell you about my knee injury. Maybe that way I can take off more than my shirt.” He smiled, winked, and then strode away as if he had simply said good-bye.

Donna watched Hank Bradley leave. He had won. Her battle to maintain a platonic relationship was a lost cause. Whatever had possessed her to make her believe for one minute that she could walk away the winner from a man like him? A woman could fall in love with Hank Bradley all too easily. Women probably fell in love with him all the time.

Complicated. That’s what Hank Bradley was. Complicated and dangerous to her self-control. Unless he grew tired of toying with her, she didn’t stand a chance.

She could already feel herself plunging, heart first, toward disaster.

Chapter Seven

Friday night came way too fast. Donna was not ready. Why in heaven had she agreed to do this—this date? He could call it chaperoning all he wanted to but it was a date, pure and simple. She stamped her foot and shucked the ivory linen dress. Eight thirty and she still couldn’t decide what to wear. Nothing looked right! Melissa watched from her perch on the dresser. Donna smiled at the child’s serious gaze.

“I like the red one, Mommy,” Melissa announced with a wave of her faery wand.

Patty had suggested the red dress, too. With her sister’s help, Donna had maxed out her already stressed credit card at the Ladies’ Boutique in Winchester. Whatever she didn’t wear tonight would have to go back tomorrow.

“But it’s so red.” Donna groaned. She picked up the red dress once more. The shimmering silk felt exquisitely feminine. She swallowed back the old insecurities niggling at her. Could she really do this?

“I like it best. Red’s my new favorite color,” Melissa informed her.

“What the heck,” Donna muttered. She wiggled into the red dress, slipped on the matching red heels and stood back to view the fit in the full-length mirror.

Too clingy and too short—a whole four inches above her knees. She never wore stuff like this. Donna studied her reflection. The three-quarter sleeves and scooped neck weren’t so bad, but the overall look was too something. Too...too sexy. Lord, she had never thought of herself as sexy. But she was—or at least she looked that way in this particular dress.

Nothing wrong with looking feminine and…conservatively sexy.

Donna smoothed her hands over her hips and then tugged at the hemline. She twisted to get a look at her backside. She did look good in this dress. Did she dare wear it? She sighed. Maybe she should just stay home.

“You look pretty, Mommy.” Melissa raised her night shirt and dusted her belly with lilac-scented body powder.

“God, this hair.” Donna twisted the tendrils that had slipped loose from her looked-so-elegant-on-everyone-else upsweep. Too late to plug in the curling iron. She’d just have to live with the hairdo. But what about the rest?

The diamond earrings Patty had given her as a graduation gift sparkled on her earlobes. The earrings were the only part of what she saw that felt comfortable.

The red dress had to go. She surveyed the tangled dresses strewn across her bed.

The old Seth Thomas clock on the wall chimed. Quarter of nine. Her stomach knotted with anxiety. She wished with all her heart she hadn’t said yes to this date—or whatever it was. She had spent every waking minute since trying to figure out this thing between her and Hank. But no answer had come.

A soft knock sounded at her bedroom door. “Dr. Jacobs,” the sitter called out.

“Come in, Erica, it’s open.” Donna picked up the green dress. Did she have time to change one more time? At least the green dress didn’t fit quite so snugly. Maybe she would get Erica’s opinion.

“Wow!” Erica’s eyes went wide. “You look amazing. Coach is gonna flip his sh—” her eyes went wide as she glanced at Melissa “when he sees you.”

Oh, no, Donna groaned inwardly. She didn’t want him to flip anything. She wanted him to...to—she didn’t want him to do anything.

“I was thinking of changing to the green one.” She held the green dress against her.

“No way,” Erica protested. “The red is hot. Besides, you don’t have time to change.” She tapped her watch. “The game’s over by now. The dance’ll start in a few minutes.”

Donna frowned at her reflection and considered Erica’s advice. She turned back to the young girl. “Why aren’t you going to the dance?” Why would such a pretty girl be babysitting on homecoming night?

“Erica’s having a party with me,” Melissa interjected as she powdered her cheeks.

Erica smiled at Melissa and then her expression dimmed. “My boyfriend’s out of town with his folks.”

“Oh.” Donna dropped the green dress back on the bed. “Sorry.”

“He’ll be back on Sunday.” Her cheerful, sixteen-year-old smile returned and then she frowned. “You really gotta go, Dr. Jacobs.”

Donna peered at her reflection once more. “So you really think I should wear this?”

“It’s awesome, Dr. Jacobs,” she urged. “Besides, you’ll fit right in. All the girls’ll be wearing stuff like that.”

“But what about the chaperones?” Donna’s anxiety level rushed toward panic now. “Will
they
be wearing stuff like this?”

Erica twisted a strand of her long blonde hair. “Most of ’em don’t have the body for it, but Ms. Masters will wear something exactly like that.”

Like lightening, a jolt of jealousy struck. The image of Cynthia Masters gliding across the dance floor in a skin-tight, thigh-length dress sent Donna’s blood pressure through the roof.

“Okay, you and Melissa win.” Donna snatched up the matching red clutch purse and stuffed necessities into it. For some ridiculous reason she had no intention of being out done by Cynthia Masters.

“All right,” Erica cheered. Melissa clapped in exuberant agreement.

Donna tucked the purse under her arm and checked Melissa’s hands for traces of white body powder. “Bedtime, sweetie,” Donna told her child as she dusted Melissa off enough so she could pick her up without getting body powder on her red dress.

“But, Mommy,” Melissa protested as Donna carried her to her room. “I’m having a party with Erica.”

Donna moved aside the array of stuffed animals and pulled the covers back. She deposited Melissa onto the bed and gave her a firm look. “It’s past your bedtime now, Melissa Jacobs.”

“But—”

“No buts.” Donna tucked the thin blanket up around Melissa’s neck. “You promised if I let you watch me get ready you’d go straight to sleep afterwards.”

“Okay,” Melissa sighed, her lids heavy already. Her blue eyes suddenly shot wide open. “Are you gonna kiss Mr. Hank?”

“What?” Donna asked in disbelief.

“Candi Johnson says that’s what grown-ups do when they go on dates.”

Donna shook her head and pressed a finger to Melissa’s cute little turned-up nose. “You tell Candi Johnson that she’s too young to be thinking about such things. Besides, this isn’t really a date. Now, say your prayers before you get too sleepy.”

Melissa obediently squeezed her eyes shut. Her little lips moved with silent words. Donna smiled. Somehow, as she sat looking down at her child in prayer, she knew Patty was right. She and Melissa would be happy here. Melissa would have a good life, surrounded by family. Donna’s medical practice would eventually flourish. This old house felt like home already.
It is home.

“Amen,” Melissa whispered and opened her eyes.

“Sweet dreams,” Donna murmured, dropping a light kiss on Melissa’s soft cheek. She stood and hurried across the room before she changed her mind and slid into bed next to Melissa.

“Night, Mommy.”

“Night, sweetie,” Donna called softly as she sprinkled a little food in the bowl for Goldie. She set the fish food back on the dresser and stepped to the door.

“Mommy?”

“Yes, sweetie?” Donna hesitated, her hand on the light switch.

“I asked Jesus if I could have a daddy real soon. I told him ‘bout the backed-up plan and that it was working good so far. We gots this new house and the new work for you. Maybe I’ll get a daddy too.”

Donna turned off the light, closed her eyes and pressed her forehead against the door jamb. What was she going to do? She peered through the darkness at the angel curled up beneath the covers. “Okay, sweetie,” was all she could manage.

Erica waited by the front door, ready to lock-up. “Don’t worry, Dr. Jacobs, I’ll take good care of things here. You just have a good time.”

“Thank you.” Donna smiled despite her lingering concern for her daughter. Patty was right about Erica, too. She really was a sweetheart. “I’ll be home a little after midnight.”

Donna stepped out onto the porch and took a deep breath of clean, country air. The night was brisk, but not too cool. Just right for walking, she decided, as she took the steps down to the sidewalk. She lived so close to the school she could walk the distance in five minutes. Besides, walking would give her time to mull over the situation with Melissa and her sudden obsession with having a daddy.

~*~

“Let’s get a move on, guys,” Hank shouted across the excited prattle in the dressing room. The freshly showered players stopped in the middle of their various stages of dressing. Hank could have heard a pin drop in the ensuing silence. All eyes stared at him in disbelief.

Hank straightened his jacket and adjusted his tie. “What? You guys never seen a tie before?”

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Stevens announced, shooting a look around the room at his teammates, “Elvis has entered the building.” An onslaught of whistles and wolf calls followed.

“You the man, Coach!” Dodd shouted, smoothing his hair and strutting like a cocky rooster in nothing but a towel.

“At ease, ladies,” Hank ordered. “Five minutes,” he barked. “I want this place in order and your butts in the gym ready to dance the night away in five minutes.”

Jerseys were hurled in his direction. Hank sidestepped the hail of flying clothes and headed for the door. He stopped short and turned back to the players. “Good job out there tonight, guys.”

Cheers rumbled across the room punctuated by high-fives. Hank gave them a quick thumbs-up and made his exit. Defeating Lincoln County had been as easy as taking candy from a baby. Next week wouldn’t be quite so simple, though. Next Friday night Huntley played their archrival, Franklin County.

The bitter rivalry between Huntley and Franklin County went all the way back to Hank’s high school days. He took a deep breath of cool night air as he walked toward the gym’s front entrance. Last year when he took over coaching the team, Huntley defeated Franklin County for the first time in seven years. Winning that particular game each season meant glorious revenge to most in Huntley—especially the alumni. Hank had every intention of winning this year. The team was capable. Dodd, their quarterback, had college ball written all over him.