The Maverick's Baby-In-Waiting (Montana Mavericks: The Lonelyhearts Ranch Book 2)

by Melissa Senate

  He wanted to also add I miss you already. But friends didn’t get that gushy.

  Gushy. If he felt gushy in the first place, did that mean he felt more than he was willing to admit to himself?

  En route to Walker’s house, his phone rang, thankfully distracting himself from his thoughts. He answered via the Bluetooth system.

  Ugh. His father.

  “Hey, Dad.”

  “I expected you home by now, Jensen. Just what in hell is keeping you in that town? And don’t say it’s a woman.”

  All the fight went out of Jensen, and the truth came tumbling out of his mouth. “It’s a woman. She’s eight months pregnant and I’m crazy about her, but things are complicated.”

  Silence.

  “Dad?” he prompted. “Still there?”

  More silence. Walker Jones the Second was rarely at a loss for words.

  His father cleared his throat. “Well, that does sound complicated. Anyhoo,” he said, using one of his favorite subject shifters, “the real reason I called is that your mother and I are planning a trip to visit you, Hudson and Walker this weekend. We plan to arrive around five on Saturday. I suppose we’ll stay at Walker’s log cabin.”

  Only Walker Jones the Second would refer to Walker’s mansion as a cabin.

  And wait—what? His parents were coming this weekend—on their anniversary? How had Jensen pulled this off without even trying? His mood perked up considerably. He hadn’t even had to resort to the ruse he’d planned.

  Unless they were coming to tell their sons in person they were getting a divorce. Was Jensen that cynical? Maybe. Would his folks bother flying out to a town they hated, a town they believed had robbed them of their sons, just to tell them they were splitting up after forty years? Doubtful.

  Stop overthinking. Just be happy. They’ll have no idea they’re walking right into your tender trap of a surprise anniversary party.

  “That’s great, Dad. We’ll you see then.”

  Now he had something else to overthink. The fact that he wanted Mikayla to be his date for the party. And to meet his parents. And his other brothers. His last girlfriend hadn’t met any of his family, and it hadn’t been all that important to him. But he wanted Mikayla to meet them. He wanted them to meet her.

  Why, though? Was this part of the gush?

  Just what the hell was going on with him?

  * * *

  “You do realize you’re acting like a mother hen?” Mikayla said to who else—Jensen.

  After a nap in that amazing bed, she’d woken up feeling rested and calm. She’d texted Jensen back that she felt great and to thank him again for being there for her, and he texted back that he had the makings for his world-famous spaghetti and meatballs and garlic bread, if she was up for him coming over and cooking for her.

  A gorgeous, sexy man cooking one of her favorite meals for her? Hell, yes. And then she remembered her tender hold on her resolve to keep Jensen at arm’s length during the tenure of their “friendship.”

  As friends, he’d texted back, reading her mind, as usual.

  Which was why he was now hovering over her in the kitchen, holding her elbow as she carried the tray of garlic bread from the oven to the counter. “You heard Dr. Strickland. I’m fine. The baby is fine. I’m not on bed rest.”

  “Yes, but you should probably take it easy. For a few days, at least. Today was pretty crazy.”

  “I am taking it easy. I’m carrying a loaf of garlic bread, which weighs about two ounces. It’s not going to send me crashing to the floor.”

  “Maybe not,” he said, grating fresh Parmesan cheese onto the spaghetti. She had no idea where he’d gotten that delicious-looking hunk of cheese in Rust Creek Falls. He’d probably had it flown in by private jet from Italy. Seriously, she wouldn’t be surprised. “Yes, but you can’t be too careful, Mik.”

  Eva was working at Daisy’s and Luke had a rancher’s association meeting, so they had the house to themselves for the next couple of hours. Jensen had arrived with a brand of spaghetti she’d never heard of before in some fancy pouch, the ingredients for fresh marinara sauce, already-cooked little meatballs that just needed warming, a bunch of spices and the makings for garlic bread, which she’d had no idea she’d been craving until he mentioned it.

  She shook her head and inhaled the aroma of the garlic bread, which smelled amazing. “I’m going to eat this entire loaf myself, sorry.”

  “Oh, then I’d better steal a piece now,” he said, smiling.

  As she crossed the kitchen to get a knife, he hovered again. “Jensen, I’m not going to break.”

  He held up both hands in surrender. “I just never want to see you in pain again.”

  Aw, foo. Stop caring so much about me, mister. You’re going to keep me in love with you and that’s the last thing we both need, trust me.

  She managed a smile and put her hands on his shoulders for emphasis, then realized she was touching him when, by her own edict, that was out of bounds. She pulled her hands away. “Didn’t you hear Dr. Strickland? I’m going to be in a lot of pain very soon. Goes with the territory,” she added, patting her huge stomach.

  Her smile faded fast. Duh, Mikayla. Jensen won’t be here for that. He’ll probably be leaving early next week.

  She didn’t buy that, though. There was really nothing keeping Jensen in town anymore. The land deal with Guthrie Barnes hadn’t happened, and he’d already scouted out two other locations that he could live with. He’d told Mikayla he’d planned on crunching the numbers once he was back home and reconfiguring his ideas for those sites. Maybe that meant he’d be coming to Rust Creek Falls in the future once the deal was made and construction began. Or maybe not. The man was an executive. She doubted he’d ever worn a hard hat in his life.

  He sure had a hard heart, though. But not really, she amended. He had a big heart, and there was nothing hard about it. He was just a man who knew what he didn’t want. A wife. A baby. Commitment.

  But Jensen Jones did have very strong feelings for her; he’d said so himself. And those strong feelings felt a lot like love to her. Jensen could say he wasn’t in love all he wanted, though he hadn’t in so many words. He acted like a man in love. Everything he did indicated his heart belonged to Mikayla. And didn’t her mother always tell her to pay more attention to what people did rather than what they said? Actions speak louder than words was a favorite old adage of hers.

  But how did you get someone to completely change his way of thinking?

  As they brought their serving bowls and platters to the dining room and sat down, Jensen did make sure to swipe one good-size piece of the garlic bread, making Mikayla laugh.

  “Oh, by the way,” he said, twirling spaghetti around his fork, “my parents are coming to town on Saturday night, and my brothers and I are throwing them a surprise fortieth anniversary party, just family. Will you come? Please?”

  Mikayla stared at him, her own meatball-stabbed fork paused in midair. Just family. For God’s sake, did the man hear himself? He wanted her to meet his family. At a family-only anniversary party.

  Oh, yeah, he loved her.

  She grinned, her heart soaring. He loves me, she said silently to her belly, which she was talking to more and more like a trusted confidant these days. He may not know it yet, but he does. And your mama is going to help him realize it before he gets on that plane back to Tulsa. Because Jensen is home.

  Sounded right to her. Or was it all just wishful thinking and late-stage pregnancy hormones?

  Chapter Twelve

  When Bella had heard about Mikayla’s “scare,” she’d insisted Mikayla take a few days off and come in to Just Us Kids on Friday if she was up to it. She was up to it and ready to get back to work. Her hours were just part-time, and changing infants’ diapers and singing lullabies was exactly how she wanted to spend her mornings.


  “Hudson will be glad to hear that,” Bella said, grinning as she and Mikayla headed to the baby room. “He filled in for you yesterday and Lee Pearson peed all over Hudson’s favorite shirt. How many times have I told that man to make sure the male babies can’t aim for him?”

  Mikayla laughed. “Not that that’s funny,” she added quickly.

  “Oh, it most certainly is,” Bella said on a chuckle. In the baby room, she scooped up eight-month-old Haley Lotts from her crib. “Someone’s ready for tummy time,” she whispered to the baby, giving her a nuzzle.

  A cry split the quiet of the room. Uh-oh, Mikayla had better go calm down the crier before the other five sleeping babies were woken up.

  “I’ll go see why CJ is fussing up a storm,” Mikayla said. She hurried across the room and picked up the little guy, whose face was all scrunched up. He calmed down for a second, then let out the wail of all wails. “Ah, I think I know what’s ailing you, my little friend.” She brought the baby over to the changing table, took care of business, dusted some cornstarch on CJ’s bottom and put a fresh diaper on him. “There you go. Good as new.”

  She loved the way CJ was staring up at her with wonder and happiness. Babies were so sweet and trusting. “How about a lullaby and then we’ll see if you’ll continue your nap?” She brought the baby over to a rocker in the far corner, away from the row of cribs, and settled him in her arms. She sang two songs and CJ’s eyes began to droop. “Yup,” she whispered, “it’s back to the crib.”

  As the hours passed, Mikayla changed more diapers, read a few board books to some crawlers in the gated area, walked up and down the length of the room with a crier until she finally quieted and then fed lunch to the solid-fooders, with the pureed peas, applesauce and sweet potatoes on her shirt to prove it.

  When her workday ended, Mikayla didn’t want to leave. And not even because when she was here and focused on the little ones, she tended not to think about Jensen and their crazy relationship. Friendship, she amended. Not being able to think too much about her personal life was a bonus of being busy at work.

  She didn’t want to leave, because she loved her job. And she loved how much experience she was getting with all the stages of babyhood. By the time her baby was born, she’d know the deal for each month of infancy.

  On her way down the hall, she stopped in Hudson Jones’s office to hand in her amended time card, since she’d ended up working only two days this week. Hudson sat at his desk, going through some paperwork.

  “Thank God you’re back, Mikayla,” he said with a grin.

  She smiled. “I hear I owe you a new shirt.”

  He laughed, and for a second she was startled by the resemblance to Jensen. The Jones brothers didn’t look identical, but they all had those amazing blue eyes. She’d done such a good job of not thinking of Jensen today, but chatting with his brother threw that out the window.

  “And I hear you’re coming to our parents’ anniversary party,” Hudson said, stamping an invoice. “I should warn you. Patricia and Walker the Second aren’t for the faint of heart. They’re going to assume you’re the reason Jensen is still here—and that he might never leave. Like Walker and me.”

  “Ha. I’ll be the first to tell them they have nothing to worry about. Jensen isn’t the settling-down kind.”

  Hudson raised an eyebrow. “I’m pretty sure my brother and I—and Autry, who now has three girls—said the same thing.”

  Well, Mikayla was sure now that Jensen would be getting on a plane with his parents on Sunday morning. So much for all her hope and optimism at dinner last night, about getting him to realize how strongly he felt about her—and what that really meant.

  Because his good-night text to her had read I’m so happy you’re coming to the anniversary party Sat. night. A special way to spend our final night together.

  Her heart had plummeted with such a thud she was surprised Eva hadn’t come running into her room. She’d been the one to tell Jensen they were through as a temporary couple. She was just a friend now, like any number of people he’d met in town. Their relationship wasn’t special. Of course he was going home. That had always been the plan.

  She tried to force some levity into her voice when she felt like crying. “He’s leaving on Sunday morning with your parents. There’s no reason for him to stay in town any longer.”

  Hudson stopped stamping and looked at her. “You’re here.”

  The lump in her throat grew. “We’re just friends, Hudson. I have to accept it,” she added on a whisper, surprising herself.

  He held her gaze for a moment, then leaned forward. “Don’t give up on Jensen. He had his heart smashed a few years ago and it did a number on him. He’s just guarded.”

  She shook her head. “And resolute. He’s told me in no uncertain terms that he’s going home. He doesn’t want to be a husband and father. And I’m about to become a mother.”

  “Well, all I know for sure is that I’ve seen a change in Jensen since he met you.” Hudson bit his lip as though deciding whether to say more. “He’s fighting his feelings—I know, because I’ve been there myself. We didn’t exactly have the best role models when it came to love and relationships.”

  Mikayla was surprised to hear that. She didn’t know much about the Jones parents, just that the patriarch was very...patriarchal. “But your parents have been married for forty years!”

  “They love each other—I do believe that. But they’re both so tough. Our dad is authoritarian and devoted to his job—work always comes first. Before his wife and before his kids. He expects his sons to operate the same way, and so far, three of us have found balance, a word our father has never heard of.”

  He’s fighting his feelings... “So you’re saying there’s a chance Jensen might not leave Sunday morning with your parents?” she asked.

  “Well, if I know my parents, and I do, they’re going to try to forcibly drag him to the plane. But Jensen has always been his own man. And sometimes being told what to do can help someone realize what he really wants to do. You know what I mean?”

  “He won’t stay in Rust Creek Falls just to spite bossy parents, though,” she said.

  “No, Jensen doesn’t do things for spite. He’d stay for you.”

  I wish. “I don’t think so, Hudson. He’s made his feelings crystal clear. And I’ve been here before. With a man who’s told me what he doesn’t want. I need to move on and accept that Jensen and I will never have a future.”

  “Well, I’m a firm believer in the wisdom of ‘you never know.’ I’ve been surprised before. I’m sure you have, too.”

  Jensen constantly surprised her. But she had no doubt he was leaving Sunday.

  With her heart.

  * * *

  On Saturday morning, Amy and Eva were riffling through Mikayla’s closet, trying to figure out what she could wear to Jensen’s parents’ anniversary party that night.

  “How about this?” Amy said, holding up the black grow-with-me tank dress.

  “Ooh, it would be perfect with this pretty cardigan over it,” Eva said, taking out a lightweight silver pointelle sweater.

  “I guess I could squeeze myself into that one last time,” Mikayla said, smiling at the thought of the concierge’s assistant bringing in the three fancy dresses. The one she wore in Las Vegas would be a little much for tonight. Unless the Jones family wore gowns and tuxedos for family parties and get-togethers. She wouldn’t be surprised.

  “Oh, guess what!” Eva said, shoving her blond hair behind her shoulders. “I almost forgot to tell you, Mikayla. We’re getting a new tenant at Sunshine Farm. And it’s thanks to Amy.”

  Mikayla grinned. “That’s great, Eva. So it’s a friend of yours, Amy?”

  “I don’t even know her!” Amy said. “Apparently, a journalist wrote a piece about me reconnecting with my ex-husband while I was staying here at Sunshine Far
m. She dubbed the place the Lonelyhearts Ranch. And this woman, Josselyn, read the article and emailed Eva about coming to stay for a while.”

  Lonelyhearts Ranch, Mikayla thought. Sounded pretty on the money to her. “How did a journalist hear about you and Derek?”

  Amy shrugged and reached behind her to tighten her ponytail. “I have no idea! I’m just glad it brought another person Eva and Luke’s way—someone who needs Sunshine Farm like I did.”

  “And like I do,” Mikayla said. “This place saved me, Eva.”

  Eva and Amy gave Mikayla “aw” faces and hugged her.

  “I’m so glad, Mikayla. This is exactly what I wanted Sunshine Farm to be,” Eva said.

  “So when is the new tenant arriving?” Mikayla asked. She loved the idea of having a new friend right here in the house.

  “Any day now,” Eva said. “Josselyn’s going to be the new librarian at the elementary school at the end of August. We’re getting a cabin ready for her. Our very first guest cabin! I’m ridiculously excited about this.”

  Mikayla smiled. “That’s great, Eva. You and Luke are so generous.”

  “Speaking of generous,” Amy said, “what’s the latest on your hot romance with the giver of this amazing bed that I totally want for my own?”

  Mikayla tried not to let her sadness show on her face, but who was she kidding? She was an open book. She let out a heavy sigh and dropped down on the edge of her bed, the dress on its hanger pooling in her lap. “We’re just friends now.”

  “Uh-oh,” Eva said, sitting down beside Mikayla and putting an arm around her shoulders. “Last I knew, you guys came back from Vegas, Jensen came to see you here and you had me tell him you were resting.” She grimaced. “I should have known there was trouble in paradise.”

  Amy sat down on the other side of Mikayla. “You two ended things?”

  “Things only ever added up to a temporary no-strings romance while he’s in town,” Mikayla reminded her girlfriends. “Not much to end, but I had to.”

  “Why?” Amy asked.

  “Because one of us fell in love,” Mikayla said. “And it wasn’t the six-foot-two blond millionaire Adonis.”