by Shirley Jump
In many ways, Lindsay was like Theresa, who had complained about how much he worked, and talked about wanting a home with a fence and a dog. That wasn’t the life he led, or the life he wanted.
His attraction to Lindsay was irrelevant. The only thing he needed to worry about was winning the court case.
“Back here,” Lindsay said, opening a door at the back of the room. It led down a darkened hallway and into a second room on the right. She patted the wall. “The light switch should be right...here. Somewhere...”
She patted the wall some more. Then turned at the same time he did. They collided in the dark space, skin against skin, her head landing just under his chin, her curves pressed against his chest. “I... I can’t find the light switch,” she said.
Was she feeling this same weird attraction that he was? This thing he kept trying to ignore because all it did was distract him. She was the enemy, the woman suing him. But in the dark, all he felt, smelled, touched, was Lindsay the woman.
“It might be...” She reached past him in the confined space, her hand tapping the wall. The movement brought her tighter to him, and he shifted to give her more room, but she moved at the same time, and his hands ended up on her waist. She drew in a sharp breath, and he lowered his head.
“It should be...” Her words trailed off, her breath whispering against his jaw. Hot, seductive, tempting. A flare of anger, or maybe it was desire, or maybe both, rushed through his veins. He should leave, he should get out of here, he should remember she was the one on the other side of the courtroom. “Maybe...”
“Maybe,” he said, then he cursed under his breath, leaned down—
And he kissed her.
* * *
When Walker Jones’s lips met hers, Lindsay stilled. Her heart raced, her breath caught in her throat, but her body went very, very still. It wasn’t just the surprise—it was the feel of his lips on hers. The whisper of his mouth against hers, tender, sweet, patient.
Amazing.
It was the kind of kiss that started slow, easy, like a summer rainstorm on a wide Montana prairie. For a moment, she forgot who he was, forgot everything. She rose up into his kiss, her arm going around his neck, his going around her waist, pulling her closer. He tasted of coffee and man, and she could feel herself getting swept away.
Then she remembered his words, how he’d called this town she loved claustrophobic, how he’d compared it to a knitting circle. Walker Jones had no love for Rust Creek Falls, and no real concern for anything besides his bottom line.
One hot kiss in the darkness behind the gym wasn’t going to change that.
She pulled away from him and as she backed into the concrete wall, the light switch poked into her back. Sure, she thought, now she found it. She flicked it on, quick. “We need to get those booths built,” she said.
Yeah, that was smart—just pretend the whole thing never happened. The sooner they got back to work, the sooner they would be done, and the sooner she could put some distance between them. Walker gave her a curious look, as if he was trying to figure out what she was thinking. “Yeah, we do.”
They grabbed the plywood sheets. Walker hefted two into his arms at once, while Lindsay followed behind with a single sheet. The board was heavy and awkward, which meant it required concentration to wrangle it out of the small storage room and over to the pile of wood. As soon as Lindsay dropped off the first board, she went back and got the last one. By the time she returned, Walker was busy building, and the kiss was behind them.
Or at least that’s what she told herself while she handed him boards and screws and they put together the last few booths. They worked without speaking for a while.
That didn’t stop her from sneaking glances at his broad back, his muscular arms, the concentration in his features as he assembled the parts. He was one hell of a kisser, and it had been a long time since she’d been kissed like that.
For a second, she’d let that kissing override the fact that Walker was a corporate shark, with no regard for the things she loved. Even if she discounted that, and the fact that she was suing his day care chain, he was also totally devoted to his business. She’d read his bio. He’d never been engaged, and as far as she could tell, he’d only had one long-term relationship that ended a couple years ago. He’d never been involved in charity work, never done anything but work to build his empire. She’d fallen head over heels for Jeremy back in college, and in the end, he’d chosen his career over her. The bottom line triumphed over the simple life she loved.
The similarity between the two men was not lost on her. In fact, it smacked her right in the face.
Jeremy hadn’t wanted to live in Rust Creek Falls. Hadn’t wanted the comfortable small-town life she loved so much. He’d told her she was “wasting her talent” being a lawyer here. That had been the last straw, and the end of their relationship. She could have put the exact same words into Walker’s mouth a second ago.
Ever since Jeremy, Lindsay had shied away from dating. For one, she knew pretty much every single man in Rust Creek Falls, and for another, she hadn’t had the time to do anything besides study for the bar. And now she was so busy with the lawsuit, she hadn’t had time to do much more than grab a drink with Lani during the week.
Walker Jones might fit the physical type of man she would be interested in, but he was the complete opposite, morally and every other way. He was driven by money, not by the values that immersed her world in Rust Creek Falls. She needed to remember that his lack of oversight, and his focus on making a profit, had nearly cost Georgina Marshall her life.
They finished the last of the booths without talking much, then stacked them against the wall. Tomorrow there’d be volunteers to paint and decorate the booths so they’d be ready for next weekend. There was still plenty to be done at the park, but building the vendor booths had been a good start.
“That was a lot of work,” Lindsay said, “but I’m pretty impressed that we finished all those in one day.”
Walker ran a hand over the rudimentary stalls. “I don’t understand why they don’t just buy some of these premade,” he said. “It can’t be that expensive to buy a stand like this for a festival.”
She bristled. Did he really think people here had the kind of money he did? “Most of the businesses in this town don’t have anything approaching a marketing budget. The owners are making do and supporting the town in the process.”
“Then why have a festival at all?” He looked around the room, at the stacks of decorations, the volunteers working on hand-painted signs. “Seems to be a waste of everyone’s time.”
Lindsay tamped down her first response. And her second. “For your information, a festival is not a waste of anyone’s time. It’s not just about the booths or the sales. It’s about bonding as a community.”
Walker scoffed. “Bonding as a community? I hate to tell you this, sweetheart, but that’s the kind of thing that only happens in novels. People are people, wherever you go, and they’re not going to sit around a campfire and hold hands just because you host a harvest festival.”
She parked her fists on her hips and stared up at him. “You really are that jaded, aren’t you?”
“I prefer to call it realistic.”
“This town bonds over more than just a harvest festival, Mr. Jones. When Jamie Stockton’s wife died, this town came together to help him take care of his premature triplets. There were people there around the clock, and there still are, for no other reason than they want to help. And when your day care center started making kids sick—”
He put up his hands. “Whoa, stop right there.”
She didn’t stop. She kept on talking, moving toward him, angry now, at him, at herself, at that kiss. “And when your day care center started making kids sick, this town came together to support the Marshalls and the other families involved. This town is
n’t like some big fancy city, Mr. Jones, and that is exactly why so many people love it. And why you—” she pointed a finger at his chest “—will never fit in here, no matter how many beers you buy or booths you build.”
Then she turned on her heel and headed out of the gym. As far and as fast as she could. The day when Walker Jones headed back to Tulsa couldn’t come soon enough.
Chapter Five
Walker told himself he didn’t care one bit what Lindsay Dalton thought of him. He didn’t want her idealized small-town life, and he didn’t care about this harvest festival or anything that happened in Rust Creek Falls.
For God’s sake, the place sounded like something in a fairy tale. People coming together to take care of triplets, to support a family with a sick kid—that kind of thing didn’t really happen. In the real world, people trampled each other to get the top spot. They looked out for number one.
He’d grown up in a driven, competitive, emotionless house. His father had only cared about what his sons achieved, and if they weren’t doing anything spectacular, Walker Jones II had ignored them. Walker had thought that going to work for his father would finally win his acceptance, but if anything, it had only made his father criticize him more.
“You better do me proud,” his father would say to him. “I can’t have a Walker Jones who doesn’t live up to the family legacy.”
As if conjured up by the mere thought, Walker’s phone began to buzz and his father’s face appeared on the incoming call screen. Walker pushed the answer button. “It’s Saturday, Dad.”
“Just another day of the week,” the elder Jones said. “I’m at work, and I assume you are, too.”
“Of course.” He didn’t tell his father about building the booths, something his father would see as a waste of time. If it wasn’t producing income, it wasn’t worth doing.
“I’m disappointed you didn’t get this frivolous lawsuit dismissed,” his father said. “This should have been done and handled by now.”
The implication—that Walker wasn’t doing everything he could. “We go to court Tuesday. I have no doubt we will win. Their case is thin.” But their lawyer is determined.
His father let out one of those long sighs that said he wished he’d had a son more like himself. More ruthless, more predatory. From the day Walker had started working for his father, he’d tried to live up to impossible expectations, and still failing, despite expanding Jones Holdings, Inc. to three countries and doubling its coffers in the last five years.
If Walker had turned out to be a ditch digger or trash collector, he had no doubt his father would have probably insisted he change his name. Instead, Walker had followed in his father’s footsteps, doing everything he could to make his father say words he used so rarely they were like comets.
I’m proud of you.
“Handle it, Walker,” his father said. “Quit letting some small-town nothing lawyer dance you around in court.”
“Yes, sir.” Any argument back would be pointless.
“Don’t make me regret making you CEO,” his father said, then he disconnected the call without a goodbye. Par for the course.
His mind wandered to Lindsay Dalton. To that kiss. To how it had distracted him from the goal.
No more. From here on out, he would deal with her in court, and nowhere else. Handle it, Walker.
And he would. He’d been handling things all his life, and he wasn’t about to stop now because of one sentimental brunette living in some Mayberryesque town.
He pulled into the lot at Just Us Kids. The lights were still on, though he’d arrived right at the close of business on Saturday. The day care operated six days a week to allow parents who pulled weekend shifts to find child care. Business had been brisk when the day care first opened in July, but all the bad publicity about the sick kids had really hurt revenue. The bottom line was just starting to climb back into the black in the last few weeks. If he could keep news about the lawsuit from filling the front page of The Rust Creek Falls Gazette, then maybe this location would start turning a profit again.
Bella Stockton, the manager he’d hired in the whirlwind couple of days he’d spent here months ago, rose from her space behind the front desk when Walker entered. She was tall, probably five foot nine, and thin as a rail, as his grandmother would say. She had short blond hair and brown eyes, but always a ready smile. Even in the short interview he’d had with her, she’d impressed him as smart, organized and calm. Exactly the kind of person who should be working at a day care.
“Mr. Jones. Nice to see you again,” she said.
“Call me Walker, please.” He stood in the center of the lobby and looked around. The multicolored tile floor and bright crayon-colored molding were offset by sunshine-yellow walls and several child-size tables and chairs. A ceiling fan shaped like an airplane spun a lazy circle above him.
There were several new additions to the space—pictures on the wall, done by the children who attended the day care, he assumed. A row of flowers made out of handprints, a set of zoo animals drawn in crayon. There were flowers on the front desk and squishy bean bag chairs in the corner, flanked by a small bookcase stuffed with colorful books and a few baskets of toys. It looked warm and inviting, and a great introduction to the kids coming through the door, not to mention a smart way to keep children entertained while their parents were filling out paperwork or settling their bill.
“I like the changes,” Walker said. He turned back to Bella. “I know my brother, so I’m assuming these things are all your doing?”
“Yes, Mr.—” She caught herself. “Walker. I just thought the lobby, particularly since it’s the first thing everyone who comes through the door sees, needed to be a little more...welcoming to kids.”
“I like it. Very much. Before I open the new locations, I should have you come in and offer your opinion.” He glanced around again, then nodded. He knew it had been a good decision to hire her. “Nice job. Very nice.”
Bella blushed. “Thank you.”
Walker was just about to ask where Hudson was when the door opened and his younger brother hurried inside, along with a brisk October wind. “Hey, sorry I’m late,” Hudson said. “I had a lunch date that almost ran into dinner.” He grinned and gave Walker a quick wink.
Walker rolled his eyes. One of these days, his bachelor brother was going to have to grow up. Hopefully that day was today. Walker couldn’t stay here in Rust Creek Falls and babysit this location. He had a merger with another oil refinery to oversee when he got back, along with the upcoming day care expansion to implement. Not to mention the thousand other deals and details he managed at the corporation. If Hudson wasn’t going to step up to the plate, then Walker would untangle the location entirely from his brother and open in a new place. Let Hudson find someone else to rent this building, and keep Walker from having to micromanage his younger sibling.
“Now that you’re finally here, let’s do a walk-through,” Walker said to Hudson. “I want to see for myself how things are being run so I can head off that lawyer before she tries to say we aren’t keeping on top of things.”
Hudson glanced over at Bella. “You know how things run here. Why don’t you take my brother on the big tour?”
Bella made a face. Apparently she wasn’t any happier with Hudson’s lack of involvement than Walker was. “I’m the manager, Hudson. Not the owner.”
“Yeah, but you run the place.” He gave her that grin that had undoubtedly charmed dozens of women before. “And you do a damned fine job of it, too.”
Bella did not look swayed by the compliment. If anything, she seemed more annoyed by Hudson. Chances were good this wasn’t the first time Hudson had tried to flirt with her. And probably one of the few times Hudson had failed to make a woman smile. Good for Bella, Walker thought. She was stronger than he’d realized. And definitely smarter.
<
br /> “How about both of you show me around,” Walker said. “Because apparently I’m not the only one who needs to see how this place is run.”
Bella shot Walker a quick smile of agreement, then crossed to the door and flipped the sign to Closed. “Our last child left ten minutes ago, so now’s a great time to do the tour.” She pulled out her security badge, swiped it against the reader on the wall by the door into the center, then ushered the men through. “We keep a very tight ship here,” she said. “Everyone has to have a badge, and none of the children are allowed to run around unsupervised.”
“That’s good.” Last thing he needed now was some kid going missing. He was glad to see that Bella seemed to be on top of the security protocols and procedures he’d set in place.
As Bella ushered them down the hall, Hudson followed along behind her like a happy little puppy, watching her every move. Walker just shook his head.
Bella showed them the individual rooms for the different age groups of children, the shelves of activities and games, the reading nooks and open coat closet spaces. “We want the rooms to feel as much like home as possible,” she explained as she showed off the miniature recliners beside the bookcases. “We also have a variety of activities for all ages and levels of development. Some children prefer crafty things, some like intellectual things. One of our first steps when we take on a new child is to assess their interests and the best way that they learn. It’s not school here, of course, but we do like to keep all the children, no matter their age, engaged and learning.”
“That’s great,” Walker said. “I like that.”
“We also work with the local elementary school. If one of our children is having trouble in math, for instance, we set up a quiet area for him to work one-on-one with a staff member who can help with homework or understanding concepts.”
Walker nodded his approval. Hudson elbowed him. “She’s smart, isn’t she? Damned glad to have her here. She’s always thinking up stuff like that.”