The Back-Up Plan (14 page)

Tonight’s the night. Hank’s thoughts shifted to the dance and his body tightened with anticipation. Tonight he had a date with Dr. Donna Jacobs. Tonight she wouldn’t be able to avoid him...wouldn’t be able to hurry away before he so much as said hello. He had barely gotten a glimpse of her since Tuesday. Tonight he intended to stick to her like a receiver on a pass pattern.

Two and one half hours of time together. And at midnight he would take her home with nothing but the stars to distract them. Before this night was over she would be begging him to kiss her again. Well, maybe not begging, but definitely wanting.

First, he had to survive the night without doing anything lame. Dr. Jacobs seemed to have a negative effect on his usual ability to charm the ladies. He figured the answer to that was really simple. He didn’t just want her—he really wanted her. Worse, he liked her. A lot. Now the guy who had spent most of his life after adolescence charming females out of their unmentionables was scared to death of screwing up his chance with one.

Give it a rest, Bradley
. Everything's going to be just dandy. As long as he kept his head and stayed focused he’d have no problem coming off cool and suave, just like always. Besides, the Doc would probably dress and behave more than a little conservatively. The glimpse of shapely thighs he had gotten on Monday evening had been by accident and just enough to whet his appetite. She wasn’t the type to play games or tease a man. From what he’d seen so far, Donna Jacobs didn’t do suggestive, not on purpose anyway.

As he neared the gym’s entrance, Hank’s step slowed. Oh, man, who was the hot babe in the red dress? The clingy material hugged every subtle curve. He shook his head and let out a low whistle. Mercy, what he would give to see Donna Jacobs in a dress like that. Torture, but what sweet agony.

Speaking of his date, Hank scanned the parking lot. Where the heck was she?

“I was beginning to think I’d misunderstood the meeting place.”

He knew that voice. Hank snapped his head back toward the gym. His mouth dropped open. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The woman in the red dress
was
his date. His stomach did a couple of somersaults before bottoming out.

“Holy smokes,” he muttered.

She smiled. Damn what a smile. A wisp of hair fluttered across one smooth cheek in the slight breeze. Hank fought the desire to wrap that wisp of hair in his fingers and feel its softness. His mouth parched as he surveyed the fit of that killer dress once more. Over the tempting rise of her breasts to the smooth, creamy skin revealed by the low scooped neckline. He had never seen that much of her skin before—other than that one thigh. Mercy, he wanted to explore every inch of what he could see and then move on to what he couldn’t see.

“Shall we?” She offered her arm.

Hank swallowed the lump in his throat and took her arm in his. “You look great, Doc,” he murmured, unable to take his eyes off her. She was beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

“Thanks, Coach.” She gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”

He opened his mouth to say thanks, but nothing came out. All he could do was stare at her. If she hadn’t led him through the gym doors, he might have stood there all night long just looking at her. Donna Jacobs did sexy all right. Man, did she do it.

Smiling at his own weakness, he had to admit he was dumbstruck. He’d never met a woman in his entire life that he wanted more than Donna Jacobs. He didn’t just want to make love to her—he wanted to make love to her every day for the rest of his life. Forever, he added wistfully.

Forever
?

Damn…he was in deep.

Shocked. Donna reveled in the look of absolute shock she saw on Hank Bradley’s face. A feeling of power surged through her as they entered the dance arm in arm. She’d never felt this powerful before. If she had known little red dresses had this kind of effect on men, she would have been wearing them ages ago. She always considered the man as the one who wielded the power, but tonight she appeared to be the one. A covert glance at Hank Bradley told the tale. He was stunned. Another shiver skittered over her nerve endings. This might turn out to be a fun night after all.

Colored lights shimmered throughout the dimly lit gymnasium. Streamers and homecoming and victory banners were draped across the soaring ceiling. Blue and white balloons hovered all around them. Couples moved to the beat of the loud music. As she and Hank moved through the crowd, young people from all directions greeted them.

Donna felt like Cinderella at the ball with the prince. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been to a dance. She’d certainly never been accompanied by a man like Hank Bradley. She stole a glance at her escort.

Devastating.

It was the only word to describe the man at her side. Broad shoulders filled out the single-breasted black jacket that had obviously been tailored just for him. A narrow, black tie lay against a pristine white shirt that molded to the prominent contours of his chest. Every female in the place did a double take.

“Would you like some punch, Doc?” Hank asked, looking down his shoulder at her as they neared the refreshment area.

“Yes, thank you.” She smiled up at him. Something wet would be good. Her throat ached but it really had nothing to do with thirst—not that kind of thirst anyway.

“I’ll be right back,” he told her, slipping his arm from hers.

Donna watched him walk away, feeling oddly empty without him at her side. She tried so hard not to like him, but he seemed to grow on her with each passing day. She had watched him with the children and with his team. He loved the kids. It might not be his first career choice, but he enjoyed teaching. Hank Bradley was nothing like Donna had expected when she first met him.

Hold on, girl
. Yes, he was good-looking. Yes, he did seem nice enough. And Melissa adored him. But none of that changed anything.
He isn’t the kind of man a woman can trust her heart to
. Besides, she didn’t need a man in her life right now. Somehow she needed to brand those words into her brain. Didn’t matter anyway. She got the distinct impression that Hank still longed for the life he had been forced to leave behind. That lingering longing wasn’t conducive to a solid foundation for a relationship. Not the kind Donna wanted anyway—
if
she were interested in a relationship, which she was not.

“Doc, I have to know,” Hank said when he returned and handed Donna her drink. “Where have you been hiding that dress?” He smiled wickedly, saluted her with his paper cup and then took a quick swallow.

“Patty picked it out,” she answered before taking a sip of her own punch. He liked the way she looked.
A lot
. The realization thrilled her much more than it should have.

“I’ll have to be sure and thank Patty.”

The sincerity in his words sent a shard of desire slicing through her. She heard it in his voice. Saw it in his eyes and felt it in his touch. Hank wanted her. Donna took a slow, deep breath. Too jittery to manage more than a sip, she set her cup down on a nearby table.

“So, what do we do now?” she asked. His suggestive gaze had her clarifying her question, “As chaperones, I mean.” Donna glanced around the huge gym. Other adults were either standing around talking or out on the dance floor.

“Come on and I’ll introduce you around.” Hank set his cup next to Donna’s, slid his arm around her and rested his hand against the small of her back to guide her through the growing crowd. She couldn’t recall having ever felt so secure in the presence of a date. When Hank looked at her she had the overwhelming sensation of being immensely important to him. Like nothing else mattered but her. No one had ever come close to making her feel that way. But was it just an act to charm her into his bed? Doubt reared its ugly head.

Hank introduced her to so many people she could never hope to remember even half their names. He made no attempt to conceal his pleasure in having Donna as his date for the evening. His attentiveness squashed the doubt and gave her a heady feeling that was nothing less than addictive.

Erica was right, Donna noticed after moving through the mingling crowd. Many of the girls and some of the ladies wore dresses similar to hers. Fortunately, she hadn’t seen Cynthia Masters so far. Part of her hoped the woman wouldn’t put in an appearance. The other part wanted to see Hank and Cynthia together—just to make sure there wasn’t anything between them.

There she went. Pretending this was more than it was.

“What’s up, Coach?” shouted a young, male voice.

Donna recognized the teenager from the day Chip Stevens had his seizure. He was one of Hank’s football players. She wondered if the crowd of boys and dates following him were the rest of the team. As if to answer her question, Chip Stevens waved to Donna from amidst the group.

“Looking good, Coach,” came another exuberant voice. Whistles and atta-boys continued to be tossed at Hank as if Donna were the prize catch of the season. She enjoyed watching the easy banter between Hank and his team. These boys thought the man hung the moon.

Hank kept one possessive arm wrapped around her waist as he made another round of introductions. Donna’s head whirled with new names and faces. She’d had her hand shaken by at least a dozen strapping young men before the players disappeared into the crowd of dancing couples.

Donna felt Hank tense. She looked up at him. His warm smile had thinned and the look in his eyes chilled her. She followed his gaze to see what had caused his reaction.

Cynthia Masters
.

Hips swaying from side to side, Masters made her way toward them. Black stockings stretched over legs that seemed to go on forever from her black stiletto heels to a black dress, which was both tighter and shorter than Donna’s. Long, blonde curls bounced about her shoulders.

“My, my,” Cynthia purred, wrapping her arm around Hank’s. “Are you two here--together?”

Hank managed a stiff smile, but the expression on his face was lethal. His entire body felt rigid against Donna. She watched the lecherous woman hanging on the other side of him. She saw the way Cynthia looked at Hank. The way she cooed up at him. Then and there Donna understood that her impression of the woman was right on the money—she did have her eye on Hank. Well, Donna called one of her sister’s favorite sayings to mind, that dog ain’t gonna hunt. Not tonight anyway. Tonight, Donna was his date.

“Excuse us, Ms. Masters,” Donna cut in before Hank could speak. “Hank and I were just about to dance.” Donna entwined her fingers with his and pulled him toward the dance floor, leaving the bitch in black speechless—for the first time in her life, no doubt. Donna thanked her lucky stars—and the DJ—that a slow song played on cue.

Once they were in the middle of the dance floor, far from Cynthia Masters, Donna stopped and turned to face Hank. Now she had to put her money where her mouth was. She looked into his eyes, saw the questions as well as the gratitude.

“Do you want to dance with me, Coach?” Her voice trembled like a young girl’s about to have her very first dance with a boy.
You can’t back out now
.

“You bet, Doc.” He pulled her into his arms. “More than I want to see the sun come up tomorrow,” he whispered against her ear.

A delicious shiver ran through her. Hank pulled her closer, wrapping his strong arms around her waist. Donna hesitated, but then slid her arms up around his neck. He pressed his chin to her forehead.

Donna squeezed her eyes shut and tried with all her might to focus on the words of the song, but her mind was lost to the need singing through her body. Her chest burned for more air, but she couldn’t seem to breathe deeply enough. Hank Bradley’s scent filled her with each shallow breath she managed. A scent so enticing, she wanted to taste him. Donna shifted in his arms and her lips brushed his throat. She heard his harsh intake of breath. Felt her heart skip a beat.

Swept into a whirlwind of sensations too powerful to deny, she did something she thought she would never again do—she surrendered to the feelings. He whispered her name against her ear as his embrace tightened, molding her to the hard contours of his body. She felt his heart pounding. Her own echoed every beat.

The song ended and the dance was over. Donna drew away from his embrace, but Hank pulled her back against him. She looked up into his fiery blue gaze and a fresh jolt of desire surged through her.

“The music stopped,” she murmured.

“Not for long.”

“But—” The music resumed. They swayed to the rhythm of another slow song. Hank’s eyes dropped to her lips. Donna saw the slight quiver of his before his jaw tightened, pulling his lips into a firm line. She knew he wanted to kiss her, but he wouldn’t—not here...not now. Though he couldn’t kiss her, he held her like there was no tomorrow. Desperate. Needy. Wanting. Donna clung to him, her desperation mounting.

While song after song played they stayed in each other’s arms. At some point the music changed, a fast beat replaced the slow songs. She knew it had changed...knew the couples around them no longer slow danced...heard the teasing remarks tossed at them. But the only thing that mattered was the way his body felt against hers...and the way his arms felt around her. Only when the music stopped completely did they draw apart.

It was time to go, Donna realized, a little startled as she glanced around the near-empty gymnasium.

A few minutes later, they were out the door as well. She studied Hank’s profile as they walked, hand-in-hand, through the moonlight. A few minutes before midnight. The witching hour, she mused. Explained a lot since this whole evening felt like a dream. Spellbound. That’s how she felt tonight—spellbound. But she shouldn’t feel that way...

“Penny for your thoughts,” Hank said, catching her staring at him.

Donna smiled in spite of the heated flush that surged into her cheeks. “Okay,” she agreed. She stopped and held out her hand for the promised penny.

Hank laughed—a wonderful, rich sound. He looked into her eyes as he pulled a penny from his pocket and place it in her palm.