Maverick vs. Maverick

by Shirley Jump

  That pleased her to no end. She loved this town, and to hear someone else say they were beginning to see its good points, too, warmed Lindsay’s heart. “Rust Creek Falls has a way of getting in your blood.”

  He sat beside her, quiet and still, watching the sun’s slow descent behind the mountains.

  “Can I ask you something?” she said, then let the question out before she thought about the wisdom of getting personal with Walker. “Why open a chain of day care centers? You don’t have a family of your own.” She’d done her research on him in the last few days and found out he was single and childless, probably because nearly every source referred to him as driven and committed to his company. “You told me a lot about numbers and research, but you could have found any industry to expand into, rather than day cares. I don’t understand why you’d want to get into a business that involved kids.”

  He arched a brow. “Off the record?”

  “Scout’s honor.” She held up three fingers. “And I was a real Girl Scout for a while when I was a kid. Got my cookie badge and everything to prove it.”

  He chuckled. “Somehow, I can’t see you as the type to take orders and build campfires.”

  “I’m more of a homebody than you know.” She wrapped her arms around herself and drew in deep of the crisp Montana air. It was why she had returned to Rust Creek Falls after law school, why no amount of money and no job or man could tear her away from this place she loved so much. “This land, this air...it’s part of my soul. I can’t imagine living anywhere else. Maybe because here I can just...be.”

  “I’ve never known what that was like. To just be.” The words were quiet, almost as if he didn’t realize he’d admitted them.

  “Not even when you were a kid?”

  He shook his head, and his posture stiffened. “Like I told you, my parents were...uninvolved. We had nannies and a house big enough to fit a Boeing jet, but we didn’t have a home, if that makes sense. There were so many expectations and rules and things that could break, that half the time we boys were afraid to breathe. My father was and still is a stern, exacting man, and my mother...well, she figured she did her part by giving birth to us. She got involved in her charities and left everything else up to the staff.”

  “I had the completely opposite childhood. We were all on the ranch, running around like a bunch of heathens, but we always felt loved.” She laid her hand on his arm, for just a second. “I’m sorry you didn’t grow up the same way. Every kid should have a childhood that lets them run and jump and be themselves.”

  He shrugged, as if it was no big deal. “It’s part of why I went into the day care business. My father thought I was insane, told me I’d lose my shirt. I still might, but... I wanted to create a place where kids, regardless of what their families were like, could feel like they were at home, for a few hours a day. I researched everything, from the best color paint to the best way to find employees that would embody that spirit. For me, these centers aren’t about a profit. They’re about giving kids a place where they feel...loved. Like you did.”

  The evil, corporate-bottom-line-is-everything role she had cast Walker Jones III in didn’t fit the man sitting beside her. She didn’t want her heart to soften, didn’t want to empathize with him, but damn it, it did—she did. There was a chance, of course, that he was lying and just telling her some sympathy-inducing story to convince her to go easy on him in court tomorrow, but Lindsay doubted it. For the first time she believed what he was telling her. This wasn’t some line he was delivering, some ruse to ingratiate himself with her or the town. She had a feeling this was her first glimpse of the real Walker.

  “What about a family of your own?” she asked. He was, after all, thirty-four, gorgeous, and, of course, wealthy. She figured some woman would’ve snatched him up long ago and he’d be married with a few kids. But then she realized how forward, how personal that question was. “Sorry, that’s none of my business.”

  “It’s okay.” He let out a breath. “I met someone that I thought I would settle down with, but...let’s just say she wanted more than I wanted to give. I was building the company then and working a million hours, and she wanted me to take time to enjoy life. Sleep in on Sundays and all that.” He rested his elbows on his knees and looked out across the landscape. “I couldn’t do that. Couldn’t, in fact, imagine ever doing that...”

  It seemed he was going to say more but held himself back. “Why do I get the feeling there’s a but you didn’t say?”

  There was a long pause. The world was hushed, far removed from the houses and streets. It was just the two of them.

  Finally he looked at her. “Very astute, counselor.” He gave her a slight smile. “Maybe it’s the view outside the Maverick Manor, or maybe it’s seeing how all those people are coming together for one simple festival, but—” he emphasized the word “—this town has me thinking...rethinking things.”

  He hadn’t said if meeting her had anything to do with that. And why did Lindsay care, anyway? This man was all wrong for her. Except...

  This new Walker she was seeing tonight drew her closer, urged her to open up more, to get to know him better. Made her crave him in new, unexpected ways.

  And that was dangerous.

  Still, she couldn’t stop herself.

  “I had the opposite experience,” she said. Had they shifted closer to each other or had she not noticed how close they were sitting? “I was engaged in law school, very briefly. I thought settling down would change my boyfriend and make him want to come back here, open up a law practice together, but his heart was set on living in New York and working in some big multimillion-dollar firm. When it became clear we wanted two entirely different lives, I broke it off.”

  She’d fallen for Jeremy, too, thinking he was one thing when he turned out to be another. She didn’t want to make that mistake again, thinking a few minutes of sentiment from Walker Jones meant anything.

  “That man was a fool,” Walker said, his eyes dark in the deepening evening sky, “for letting a woman as incredible as you slip out of his life.”

  The words warmed the chill she’d forced into her heart a moment ago, made her think about kissing him again. She held his gaze, inhaled the spicy notes of his cologne. Damn, he even smelled good. “Are you just trying to soften me up before the trial starts?”

  He grinned. “Is it working?”

  “Nope. I’m not so easily swayed.” She feigned affront, but in the face of his smile, it was hard to hold the pose.

  He reached up, brushed a tendril of hair off her forehead and tucked the lock behind her ear. His touch lingered on her cheek, and she leaned into it. “Too bad.”

  “Why?” She could barely whisper the word. The desire simmering inside her was a living, breathing thing, overpowering every sane thought she’d ever had, pushing her closer to him.

  “Because if you weren’t Lindsay Dalton, lawyer, and I wasn’t Walker Jones, owner of Just Us Kids, I think—” his gaze dropped to her lips, then back up to her eyes “—we could have been something.”

  “But we are those things,” the sensible part of her said, even as the rest of her was telling that sensible side to shut up, “and we can’t be something.”

  “In the morning, I’ll agree with you. But right now...” His thumb traced her bottom lip and made her breath catch. “Right now why don’t we just pretend none of that exists? Just for tonight. Just for now.”

  Chapter Seven

  Walker had no idea what the hell he was doing, getting closer to this woman, of all the women in this tiny town. He got to his feet, took Lindsay into his arms, then pressed Play on the music app on his phone. A slow-beat ballad came on, the sound a little tinny and distant coming from the small speaker. She looked up at him, her eyes wide but curious. The mist started up again, seeming to shroud them, shut them off from the rest of the t
own.

  “I asked you to dance once before and you turned me down,” he said.

  “You were already dancing with another woman. Many of them, if I remember right.”

  He opened his arms. “Right now, you are the only one I want to dance with. So I’m asking you again. Lindsay, will you dance with me?”

  She drew in a deep breath, then a smile whispered across her face. “Yes.”

  He put one hand on her back, clasped her palm with the other one, and pulled her into his frame. Then he began dancing with the woman who was trying to destroy his company.

  But she fit so perfectly in his arms, and smelled so damned good, and already he was craving another kiss, craving her. So he danced with her, and kissed her neck, and almost came undone when she pressed into him. The song came to an end, and Walker Jones, a man who never made a move he didn’t think about first, whispered five impetuous words. “Come back to my room.”

  “That...that changes everything,” Lindsay said.

  “Just being with you has changed everything.” He brushed that stubborn lock of hair off her forehead again and knew, no matter what, it was going to be harder than hell to battle her in court tomorrow. Half of him wanted to wave the white flag, just to see her smile again.

  “Maybe just for a drink,” Lindsay said as the skies opened up and thunder began to rumble. “And only because it’s raining again.”

  Was it? He hardly noticed. “And it’s a holiday,” he said.

  She laughed. “A holiday is a reason to have sex?”

  Once she said the two words out loud—have sex—his mind raced through a hundred images of them doing just that. “I think a holiday is as good a reason as any, don’t you agree?”

  A tease quirked a grin on her face. “I think you’re giving way too much weight to Columbus Day.”

  “Hey, it’s the whole reason we have America. I don’t think the holiday gets enough weight.” The rain started falling faster, so he took her hand and they dashed back through the park and over to his rental car, sliding inside just before the storm unleashed its full strength. The wipers raced to keep up with the rain as Walker pulled out of the parking lot and back toward Maverick Manor.

  A rare burst of nerves rushed through his gut. Maybe because Lindsay Dalton was unlike any other woman he’d ever met. Maybe because he knew she was right and this was going to change everything, and even he wasn’t sure that was a good idea. So he filled the space in the car with words.

  “Did you know that Columbus Day has been celebrated since the 1700s? It wasn’t made a national holiday until FDR assigned the second Monday of October as the designated day,” Walker said. “Just a couple of interesting tidbits from The Rust Creek Falls Gazette.” The words tumbled in a fast stream, like they were racing to be first out of his mouth.

  She laughed. “Is this your idea of wooing a woman? Spouting historical facts?”

  He glanced over at her as they pulled under the overhang in front of the hotel. “Is it working?”

  “Sadly, yes.” Lindsay rolled her eyes. “Either I haven’t been on a date in a really long time or you have a way of making history sound sexy.”

  “I’m voting for sexy history.” He leaned across the console, gave her a quick, hard kiss, then got out of the car and dropped his keys into the valet’s palm. He came around the other side, then put out his hand to Lindsay. “Maybe I should tell you everything I know about the life cycle of an earthworm.”

  Lindsay fanned her chest. “Be still, my heart. I don’t think I could handle it.”

  Damn, he really liked this woman. No, he more than liked her. He was falling for her, for the jokes and the smiles and the way she stood toe to toe with him. She was smart and sexy and funny...and she was staying here when he went back to Tulsa. Before the thought could sour his attitude, he pushed it to the back of his mind. He’d worry about that later. Much later.

  They headed inside, stopping by the bar for a bottle of wine and two glasses. “Send some strawberries and cheesecake up to my room, please,” Walker said to the bartender.

  “Certainly, Mr. Jones,” the bartender said, keying the order into the computer. “Right away, sir.”

  “Strawberries and cheesecake?” Lindsay grinned as they walked away. “You really are trying to woo me.”

  “The cheesecake here is so good, you might not even notice me after you have the first bite.” They took the elevator to the second floor. “Or you may be so overcome with gratitude that you...”

  His gaze had dropped to her lips. She was standing a few inches away, and they were alone in the elevator. The warm, enclosed space seemed even tighter now, closer.

  “So much gratitude that I do what?” Lindsay asked.

  “That you kiss me,” he said, shifting closer to her, resting his free hand on her waist, splaying his fingers along the narrow expanse above her jeans, “and don’t ever want to stop.”

  “That would imply you are a very good kisser,” she said. Her voice was low, throaty.

  “And am I?”

  A flush filled her cheeks, and for a moment her gaze dropped away. The shyness entranced him even more. Then she lifted her gaze back to his, all sassy and confident again. “You definitely have skills outside the boardroom, Mr. Jones.”

  “And you have skills outside the courtroom, Ms. Dalton.” The elevator came to a stop, the doors shuddered open, but Walker took a moment to kiss her again, harder, faster this time. Desire surged between them, charging the air.

  And then they were tumbling out of the elevator together, a jumble of arms and legs and wineglasses, and across the hall to his room. He fumbled with the key, twice, three times, before the door unlatched and they were inside. All the while, they kept up a heated frenzy of hungry kisses and touches.

  He blindly reached for the small table inside his door, depositing the wine bottle and glasses. Then his hands were free to roam over the woman in his arms, up her back, over her curves and along her valleys. He kicked the door shut, then scooped her into his arms and crossed the small living area to enter the bedroom.

  The sun had almost finished setting. A soft purple light came in through the windows, casting the room in an ethereal glow. Walker laid Lindsay on the bed, then stepped back to drink in the sight of her.

  She had one arm stretched above her head, her chocolate hair in wild disarray and her shirt bunched up above her waist. She was smiling at him, her eyes dark and heavy. “What are you waiting for?”

  “I want to savor this,” he said. “Savor you.”

  That made her smile widen. She crooked her finger and beckoned him forward. “Then savor away.”

  He climbed onto the bed beside her. She slid into the space against his chest and kissed him. Her tongue darted into his mouth while his hand snaked under her shirt and over the curve of her breast. Even through the lace of her bra, he could feel the peak of her nipple. When he brushed one finger over the sensitive bud, she let out a gasp and arched against him.

  He took a moment to tug her shirt over her head and toss it onto the floor. She was wearing a lacy white bra, and a part of him wondered if she’d done that on the off chance she would see him today. “I think I should see what else will make you gasp,” he said, crooking one finger under the strap of her bra and sliding it down her arm. Her breast bulged above the cup of her bra, as if inviting him to come closer.

  He dipped his head and kissed the top of the curve, then the sides, then finally brushed his lips against her nipple. She gasped again, his name escaping her lips in one long, hot whisper.

  “Hmm... I think I should see what makes you gasp,” she said, then slid her hand down the front of his chest, over the buckle of his jeans, then against the length of his erection. Even through the denim, he could feel the soft firmness of her touch. He wanted more. He wanted her.

 
; “That...” He stopped; he could barely breathe, definitely couldn’t think. “That will do it.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. I think maybe—” She paused, flicking open the fly of his jeans, then sliding the zipper down before she slipped her hand beneath his boxers and finally—oh, holy hell—along the length of him. “This will.”

  He let out a gasp. “That...that works. Very well.”

  “I figured it might.” A devilish light filled her smile.

  “My turn,” Walker said. He reached behind her to unfasten her bra, then slid the other strap down. He followed the path of the lace with his mouth, kissing, teasing, every inch of her neck, her chest.

  She arched beneath him, her hands tangling in his hair, her breath coming faster, harder. He reached for the buckle on her jeans—

  And there was a knock at the door. Three hard, fast raps.

  Room service. Damn it. Why had he ordered the cheesecake?

  “Give me just a second,” he said to Lindsay. “And don’t move.” Walker started to slide off the bed when the knocking started up again.

  “I know you’re in there, Walker,” Hudson called through the heavy wood door. “And I think it’s about damned time we talked. About the day care, this lawsuit and that damned lawyer. And what the hell you think you’re doing with all of it.”

  Lindsay bolted upright, grabbing her bra and pressing it to her chest. “Did you set this up? Catch the opposing counsel in a compromising position?”

  “No, no, that’s not it at all,” Walker said. “Stay, please. I’ll tell him to come back later.”

  But she was already grabbing her clothes and putting them back on. She smoothed a hand over her hair and let out a curse. “I let myself forget everything,” she said. “Forget what’s important. Forget why you’re here. Maybe that’s part of your plan—”

  “That’s not it, Lindsay. I got just as caught up in this as you did.” Yes, getting involved with her was probably a mistake. Yes, he should have waited until after the court case, but damn it, he liked her and he wanted her, and right this second, he didn’t care what happened tomorrow morning. “Lindsay, stay. Please.”