Daddy In Dress Blues

“Enough to give you mouth-to-mouth resuscitation,” he drawled.

This sudden flash of the bad boy she’d known in high school caught Jessica by surprise. She’d let her guard down a bit and he’d snuck up on her with that comment.

Studying him provided suspiciously few clues as to what he was thinking. The teenage girl she’d been would have become flustered by his intense perusal of her mouth, but the woman she’d become ignored his provocative behavior.

Or tried to. She quizzed him on various possible scenarios that would require immediate medical attention. He had a pretty good basic knowledge, but needed specifics for pediatric care. And all the while her wayward heart kept beating a little faster. It certainly wasn’t because she found the topic of a first-aid checklist exciting. No, it was because he’d given her a certain kind of look, the kind a man gave a woman he was interested in.

Things got worse when she handed him a refrigerator magnet with the toll-free number of the Poison Control Center on it. His fingers brushed hers and the resulting tingle of awareness traveled up her arm. A simple touch, a familiar reaction—but one she hadn’t experienced since her high school days.

Oh, there had been men in her life since then. And she’d felt attraction before. But not this spine-tingling current accompanied by a deep-felt recognition that this person’s touch felt right and deliciously wicked at the same time.

Flustered, she glanced down to consult her master list. “Uh, the next item on the agenda is mealtime.”

“Is there a reason we’ve gone from emergency first aid to food? Makes me think you’ve tasted my cooking,” Curt noted wryly.

It was hard not to smile. “What are you feeding Blue?”

“Candy and potato chips,” he replied mockingly.

At her startled look, he added, “What? That’s what you’re expecting, isn’t it? For me to fail.”

“That’s not true.”

“No? Then why are you treating me as if I were some raw recruit who didn’t know my…foot from a hole in the wall?”

“I’m sorry if you don’t approve of my teaching style,” she said stiffly. “I’m no expert at educating adults.”

“And I’m no expert at taking orders from a civilian, but you don’t see me complaining.”

“That’s because you’re the one who needs my help.”

“And you’re the one who offered that help,” he reminded her.

Offered? Pressed into duty was a more accurate description but she wasn’t about to quibble over semantics. “I’m trying to help you, but it would be easier if you weren’t so stubborn and didn’t have such an attitude.”

“I’m not the one with the attitude, you are.”

“I am not,” she vehemently denied.

“Are so,” he taunted her.

“Am not!”

“Am not, am so, am not, am so, am not, am so,” Blue said in a singsong voice.

Startled at hearing herself mimicked, Jessica had to laugh. “We did sound like a couple of three-year-olds,” she noted ruefully.

“I am three,” Blue proudly stated, holding up three fingers. “This old.”

Jessica smiled down at her. The little girl was such a sweetie. “You certainly are.”

“What did you do to G.I. Joe?” Curt’s voice reflected his dismay.

“I made him pretty.” Blue held the action figure up to show off the large flowered hat she’d put on it.

“G.I. Joe doesn’t wear flowers,” Curt stated with emphatic outrage. “All the other G.I. Joes would laugh at him. Put his helmet back on.”

Blue looked at her father uncertainly before her big brown eyes slowly filled with tears.

“Jeeez.” Curt exhaled as if someone had just stomped on his foot, or maybe even his heart. “No crying. Big girls don’t cry.”

“Sure they do,” Jessica inserted. “It’s okay to feel sad, honey.” She scooped the little girl in her arms. “I think that G.I. Joe looks great in that hat.”

Blue sniffed and hid her face in Jessica’s neck. Which allowed Jessica to give Curt a look that would have scorched steel.

“Okay, big girls cry,” he allowed. “Sometimes. But a marine’s daughter doesn’t cry.” He reached over to awkwardly pat Blue once on the back. “You’re a marine kid now and you can…” He’d been about to say chew nails, but then he reconsidered the wisdom of that, knowing how Blue tended to take everything he said literally. “And you’re even more powerful than G.I. Joe. You’re tougher than other kids.”