No! No! No!
She wasn’t ready for this man. More importantly, Rafferty wasn’t ready for her. He had a wife that he hadn’t put to rest, a daughter he was trying to parent. Her heart tightened at the thought of Gracie. How blessed she would be to have a sweet little girl like her.
She shook her head. “You’re dreaming again, Jen.”
Once again she heard the familiar words. Marsha Collins-Newsome had always been a realist. She hadn’t believed in dreams. A single mother beaten down by life, she’d married the first guy who could give her a decent home. Carl Newsome, a widower with three wild sons: Carl Junior, Mike and Todd. The boys were older than Jenny, and they’d spent their adolescence making things difficult for her. The youngest son, Todd, had been the worst. He’d made her life a living hell, and even as adults he wouldn’t leave her alone. She was glad he’d been sent to prison and hoped that she never had to see him again. No, the Newsomes and Collinses had never quite managed to become a nurturing family. The furthest thing from it.
Jenny remembered her visit with the Raffertys. They weren’t perfect, but they cared about each other. Her chest tightened with that same old longing. She wanted what she’d never had. A loving family.
She turned her thoughts back to Evan. He wasn’t the man for her. Too much baggage, and she didn’t want to be the rebound girl.
The only stability in her life had been her teaching. Since college, it had filled a lot of empty places. She needed to get back to it. And nothing was going to stop her.
Not even the good-looking Evan Rafferty.
Later that day, Jenny had just finished with a customer when the bell over the door rang and Evan walked in. Her heart began to race. She hated that she reacted to the man.
Evan removed his hat and nodded to Beth Staley. The older woman stopped and talked with him a moment, then he held the door open for her and she walked out.
He made his way across the store. Those deep-blue eyes locked in on Jenny. She felt her breathing speed up. She had to stop this. This wasn’t high school.
“Jenny,” he said as he stopped at the other side of the counter.
“Rafferty,” she returned, not seeing a bit of uneasiness in him. “What can I do for you?”
He glanced around, hearing voices from the tables in the classroom area. “Can we talk?”
Dear Lord, no. She didn’t want to hear that he was sorry he kissed her. “I’m rather busy right now.”
He held his hat in his hand. “When will you have time?”
Millie suddenly appeared. “I can watch things for a while.” She smiled at Evan. “You could go back to the office.”
Evan nodded to her. “Thank you.” Then without any warning, he came around the counter and took Jenny by the arm and walked her toward the back of the store. Inside the small office she stopped in front of the file cabinet, but when she turned around, she found Evan right there. His gaze was intense, his scent engulfed her.
“What’s so important?” she managed.
“I need to know if you still plan to chaperone Gracie’s sleepover.”
She was almost relieved that was the reason he’d stopped by. “Yes, I promised her that I would. Why? Have you changed your mind?”
He studied her for a moment, then shook his head. “I was thinking you might have after what happened the other night.”
Now she saw his uneasiness. It was endearing, but she couldn’t let him get to her. “Get over yourself, Rafferty. It was only a kiss.” One that had nearly knocked her socks off, she added silently.
He leaned in closer. She could feel his breath warm against her face. Then he grinned. He wasn’t playing fair. “Glad you feel that way.” He stepped back. “Because the invitations went out for Friday night.”
She worked to clear the dryness from her throat. “What invitations?”
“The sleepover at my house,” he said.
She knew he was talking about Gracie’s party, but suddenly a picture of Evan and her in a big bed flashed through her head. Whoa. She blinked and turned away. “What time?”
“Gracie told her friends seven o’clock. Maybe you could come by a little early, and don’t be surprised if Matt and Dad have some surprises planned.”
Jenny found it easy to smile. That was just like those two. “Sounds like fun.”
He grumbled something. “I just want to survive the night.”
She laughed. “Buck up, fella, this is only the beginning.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of.”
Friday night arrived, along with a half dozen screaming girls and their thundering footsteps overhead in Gracie’s bedroom.
“Saints save us,” his father said, looking up at the ceiling. “What in the world are they doing up there?”
“I don’t know. I only hope the house is still standing in the morning,” Evan replied, shrugging. “Of course, Jenny’s up there supervising.” Then came another thud. “Maybe they tied her up and put her in a closet.”
Sean laughed. “That’s something you and your brother would have done. But if it happens, then you can go up and save the pretty lass.”
And who would save him? he wondered. Once the girls had found out Jenny was going to be there tonight they were even more excited to come. For him, having her in the house seemed strange, but to everyone else, she fitted in. She did fit in. Maybe that was the problem.
The sound of little girls’ voices grew louder, and then came the stampede of footsteps on the stairs.
“Brace yourselves, here they come,” Sean said.
One by one, three little blondes, two brunettes and one red-haired girl arrived in the kitchen. Every one of them had big hair and tons of makeup on those sweet angelic faces.
Gracie proudly climbed up on a bar stool. The other girls followed her. “Hi, Daddy. We’re having a lot of fun.”
“I can see that.” He looked her over, trying to find his little girl under all the makeup. “Trying a new look?”
“Oh, Daddy. We’re doing the eighties. You know, Madonna, Bon Jovi. ABBA, too.”
The other girls broke into a chorus of “Dancing Queen,” then fell into a fit of giggles.
“Daddy, did you know Jenny can moonwalk like Michael Jackson?
“No, I didn’t.” Evan looked at his dad and mouthed, “Madonna.”
Sean shrugged and whispered, “I’m sure Jenny has it under control.”
“All the girls think Jenny is way cool. She says we’re going to work our way through the decades. We’ll finish with Hannah Montana and Taylor Swift.”
Evan turned back in time to see Jenny walk in. Her hair was big, too, lying in waves past her shoulders. She wore heavy makeup, overdone on the eyes and lips, and some kind of tight stretchy pants that hugged her long sexy legs.
“Hey, girls.” She winked at Evan as she sat down on a stool. “Did you get something to eat?” She glanced at his father. “Hi, Sean.”
“Hello, young ones,” he greeted as he eyed all the girls. “Looks as if I have several customers here.” He leaned on the counter. “What can I get for all of you? Pizza? Chips? Ice cream? Hamburgers?”
After