The moment Mikayla stepped inside the inviting space, she felt at home. This environment she knew well. There were beanbags in every primary color. Kid-size tables and chairs. Rows of flowers made out of kids’ handprints lining the lobby walls. Floor mats with the alphabet and numbers. And little kids at play, some using kiddie scissors in an origami lesson, others sitting in a group on a plush rug, being read to by a teacher. The familiarity was so comforting that a warmth enveloped Mikayla.
“Mikayla, right?” Bella said.
“Right. And you’re Bella Jones.”
“Here for a tour of the day care for your little one?” Bella asked with a smile. “I’m the manager at Just Us Kids.”
“Well, I’m actually here because I’m hoping for a job. I moved to town a few weeks ago, but in Cheyenne I worked for Happy Kids Day Care for over two years and was taking classes in early-childhood education. I worked in all the rooms—infant, toddler, preschool and with the older kids after school.”
Bella shook her head with a strange expression, and Mikayla’s heart sank. Another no.
“The universe works in mysterious ways,” Bella said. “Look at this.” She swiveled her desktop monitor. Help Wanted: Just Us Kids Day Care Center is looking for an experienced childcare provider for the newborn and baby room...
Mikayla gasped. The head shaking had been about the coincidence! It wasn’t a no! “I have my résumé,” Mikayla added, taking the folder from her bag and handing over a sheet of paper.
“Have a seat,” Bella said, gesturing at the chair on the other side of her desk. As she scanned the résumé, Mikayla sent a prayer heavenward.
Thirty minutes later, Mikayla Brown had a job offer—contingent on Bella checking her references, which included her former boss from the Cheyenne day care and Eva Stockton. Yes! she thought, wanting to do the Snoopy dance right here and now. And aside from the perk of health insurance starting the first of September, day care employees enrolled their children at Just Us Kids free. Mikayla wanted to throw her arms around Bella and hug her, but there was that belly issue again.
“Thank you so much!” Mikayla said. “I’m so excited to start at Just Us Kids. I’ll see you bright and early a week from Monday at seven o’clock.”
Bella smiled and extended her hand. “See you then.” The phone rang at the desk. “Mikayla, why don’t you take a walk around, peer in the rooms, check out the playground, and then I’ll see you out.”
As her new boss answered the phone, Mikayla headed deeper inside the large, colorful main room. She smiled as she watched the group of preschoolers work on their origami. As she passed another large room, a younger group was singing the alphabet song. She headed down a hallway with a beautiful mural of a petting zoo and came to the baby room. This was where she’d spend her time. She popped her head in and waved at the woman very quietly singing a lullaby to a drowsy baby in her arms. Three other infants were fast asleep in cribs.
Mikayla continued down the hall and stopped at a water fountain.
“Look, Jensen, I know this deal means a lot to you, but you can’t keep upping the price. Just look elsewhere.”
Mikayla froze at the sound of the male voice, which she realized was coming from an office not a foot away marked Walker Jones.
Jensen was here?
“Barnes’s land is perfect for the crisis distribution center,” she heard Jensen say. “It’s near two access roads, which is key. And yet it’s far enough from the center of town that it won’t affect residents.”
“The site is perfect, agreed,” another male voice said, and she wondered if it was the other brother, Hudson.
“Davison lost his life fighting for those who needed help, and I’m not letting him down,” Jensen said. “He knew having ready supplies and trained volunteers in a crisis was vital—he talked to me about his dream of building a distribution center right here. But Barnes wouldn’t sell to him, and then we lost Davison. He loved this town and that land is going unused. I just have to figure out Barnes’s angle for not selling. I have a cap—don’t worry. And I’m sure I won’t need to go that high.”
“We all loved Davison,” a man said—Mikayla was pretty sure it was Jensen’s brother Walker. “But Dad’s going to flip out on you about this. You know that, right?”
“Okay, so I haven’t exactly mentioned the particulars of the land deal to Dad, just that it’s something good for Jones Holdings. Dad will definitely not be pleased that I’m carrying on his late former best friend’s volunteer work and pet project. But I also know it’s part of the key to cracking dear ole Dad. The two men had a rift years ago, and it needs to be healed if Dad is ever going to find peace—even if Dad has to do that alone.”
“Dad isn’t going to come to terms with whatever ruined their friendship,” Walker said. “And no doubt it was Dad who screwed up. He didn’t even go to Davison’s funeral.”
The other voice chimed in. “Jensen, between this land deal and Mom and Dad’s anniversary party, you’re really setting yourself up for serious disappointment.”
“I have to try, right?” Jensen said. “You don’t try, you get zippo.”
You are definitely right, Mikayla thought. An hour ago, I was scarfing down ice cream over not being able to find a job, but here I am, hired.
Maybe there was more to Jensen Jones and how his mind, heart and wallet worked than Mikayla had thought. Maybe he really was about being generous because he could be, not because he was trying to buy or impress anybody.
“Oh, if anyone needs the plane this afternoon, it’s available,” Jensen said. “I was scheduled to fly to LA to handle a negotiation for Autry, but I bumped it up to this morning via Skype, so I’m all set.”
“Oh, good,” Hudson said. “I need to fly to New York tonight. Now I can leave earlier than planned.”
“Jensen, did I ever thank you for the pool cue you sent me from Morocco as a thanks for letting you bunk with us?” That voice, as she’d thought, clearly belonged to Walker.
“No, you did not, jerk,” Jensen said, then laughed.
God, she loved the sound of his laughter.
“Well, thank you. Man, it’s a work of art. One of a kind. I used it last night in a round against Lindsay and won by a landslide. Okay, I won by one.”
Mikayla smiled, then felt the smile fade. These men lived in a different universe. Private jets? Planning meetings in LA for an hour? Moroccan pool cues?
Bella seemed so down-to-earth. And from what Mikayla had heard, Bella had worked in the day care before the Jones family had bought the business. She probably wasn’t all that different from Mikayla, yet she apparently had loads in common with her millionaire husband, Hudson Jones. Walker’s wife, Lindsay, was a lawyer and had been very friendly to Mikayla on the two occasions they’d met. So obviously the Jones brothers didn’t live in different universes than mere Rust Creek Falls mortals.
What the hell was she doing? Imagining herself getting involved with Jensen? Puh-leeze! Never going to happen. She was about to have a baby. And Jensen was leaving town after he settled this land deal of his. Her fantasies could not include any type of relationship with him, let alone a future.
Hadn’t “you can look but not touch” been her motto since childhood?
She heard Jensen’s voice get louder, as though he was heading toward the closed office door, and she turned and rushed back to the front desk to say goodbye to Bella. Except Bella wasn’t at the desk and Mikayla didn’t want to leave without saying goodbye and thanking her again.
Ugh. She couldn’t run into Jensen. Because if she let herself look at him, let herself talk to him, she’d get all ridiculously weak-kneed by his hotness, he’d start disarming her again with that way of his and she wouldn’t be able to blame anything on hormones, since she knew full well it was him. How was that fair?
* * *
“Do you like my picture, m
ister?”
Walking through the main room of the day care toward the front door, Jensen glanced down to see a little kid around three or four with a mop of brown hair suddenly standing in front of him, holding a piece of blue construction paper. There was a purple sun with a smiley face, an orange tree and lots of green grass at the bottom of the paper. There was also a stick figure and what looked like a pink dog. Or maybe it was a cat.
“Um, sure,” Jensen said, glancing around for a teacher. Anyone. Someone. Unfortunately, the woman wearing the Ms. Allie, Lead Teacher name tag was deep in conversation across the room with Bella, his sister-in-law. He noticed Bella keeping an eye on him, so he bent down a bit to be less than six foot two. “I like the dog.”
“What dog?” the boy said, looking from Jensen to his paper.
“That one,” he said, pointing to the floppy-eared pink mutt with four legs and a long tail.
The little boy scrunched up his face. “It’s not a dog! It’s a space alien! Why do you think it’s pink!” he yelped, then his eyes started filling up.
Oh, God. Bella and Ms. Allie came rushing over.
“That man thought the space alien was a dog,” the boy complained to his teacher as he used his palms to wipe away his tears.
Ms. Allie put a hand on the boy’s shoulder. “Dylan, the great thing about art is that everyone can see something different in the same thing.”
The boy didn’t look convinced. He scampered back to his table with his drawing. He said to the girl next to him, “Does this look like a dog or a space alien?”
The girl looked at the picture. “Definitely a space alien.”
Happy once again, the boy began coloring a new picture.
“I’m a real hit with kids,” Jensen whispered on a sigh to Bella. “You should hire me for birthday parties.”
Bella laughed. “Allie, this is my brother-in-law Jensen. Jensen, meet Allie, our lead teacher.”
They smiled at each other, and Allie headed over to the table with the drawing kids.
“Sorry about that,” he said to Bella. “I’m clueless when it comes to talking to kids.”
He really was. A disaster. At the party the other day, he’d had no idea for an entire minute that one of the Stockton triplets had been trying to get his attention to say thank you for the race car bed—at his uncle Hudson’s behest. His brother had had to elbow him in the ribs and point down, and there was little Jared, staring up at Jensen.
“My pleasure,” he’d said to Jared. “Much health and happiness,” Jensen had added, and the little boy had stared blankly at him and toddled away.
“Much health and happiness? Really?” Hudson had said, shaking his head. “Are we toasting someone’s retirement from Jones Holdings or are we at a potty party for two-and-a-half-year-olds?”
Jensen had shrugged. “I don’t speak toddler.”
Hudson had laughed. “Oh, that’s clear, brother.”
Now Jensen glanced around the colorful main room of the day care, kid after kid doing kid things in kid lingo. He felt really out of place.
“I’m sure you’d be great with kids,” Bella said. “You just haven’t spent much time around pint-size people.”
“The second part of what you said is true. The first part is very iffy.”
Bella smiled, then glanced at the lobby area. “Oh, gosh, there’s Mikayla waiting for me. See you later, Jensen.”
Every cell inside him perked up. Mikayla was here? He glanced toward the lobby, where the room narrowed, and could just make out her gorgeous long brown hair and the crazy wrap-around-the-ankles flat brown sandals she wore. She had on an ankle bracelet and a toe ring.
He figured he’d give them a minute to talk, then he’d sidle up and ask Mikayla to lunch.
“Thank you again, Bella,” he heard Mikayla say. “Can’t wait to start working here.”
“See you a week from Monday,” Bella said. “I’ll call your references right now and will run a comprehensive background check, but I have no doubt I’ll hear great things.”
Mikayla’s smile could have melted a block of ice. So she’d gotten herself a job here, had she? Good for her.
“New job calls for a celebration lunch, don’t you think?” he said to Mikayla as he sauntered over. “Anywhere you want to go. My treat.”
He would describe the look on Bella’s face as utter shock. And more than a bit of you do see she’s pregnant, right, playboy?
The look on Mikayla’s face was more I don’t think so, Richie Rich. I had enough of you and your “treating” yesterday.
“That’s very kind of you, Jensen, but...”
Was that his heart plummeting toward his stomach? Give her the out. Be a gentleman. She’s still angry at you. As well she should be. And you should be grateful one of you is keeping a distance. “But you’re busy. I understand. Another time.”
“Another time,” she said and rushed out.
He watched her walk up the sidewalk until she turned the corner.
“I didn’t think Mikayla would be your type,” Bella said, her eyebrows sky-high.
He turned back to his sister-in-law. “What is my type?” he asked, truly wondering how he appeared to others.
“A good-time girl,” she said. “For the short-term.”
“Mikayla’s not due for two months,” he pointed out.
“You’re as incorrigible as I thought,” she said, shaking her head on a laugh. “I’ll tell you, Jensen Jones. Your brothers were like you. Then they got cupid’s arrow straight through the heart and settled down. It’s gonna happen to you. Who knows, might have already.”
“Meaning Mikayla? She’s due in two months!”
Bella laughed so hard she almost fell out of her chair. “Yeah, you just told me that, remember? But she is single.”
He threw a glance at his Rolex. “Ah, almost ten o’clock. I have a business call to make. Overseas,” he said, practically running out the door.
He could hear his sister-in-law’s laughter following him to his car.
He supposed he deserved the mocking.
But who said anything about “settling down”?
And just what the hell was he going to do about his attraction to this very pregnant person?
Chapter Six
Thirteen business texts—on a Saturday morning, no less.
Ten personal ones from his father. All along the lines of: When will you be back? Do I need to come drag you home, son? I will!
And one from Guthrie Barnes. I’ve learned how to block you on this fool piece of new technology. Quit bugging me about my land, you hear!
Jensen wanted to slam his phone against his little round table at Daisy’s Donuts, but since he liked their coffee best in town, he didn’t want to get banned. Okay, Jones. Focus. He spent the next ten minutes answering texts and emails related to business, set up two video meetings, responded to his dad that it would be a few more days at most—though he had no idea if that was true—and then tried to figure out how to handle Barnes.
He hated that he was bothering the old man, who’d made it crystal clear he didn’t want to hear from Jensen again; in fact, he’d made that clear the first time Jensen had contacted him. But something wasn’t quite right here. Jensen couldn’t put his finger on it.
Why the heck wouldn’t the man sell the land? He’d been widowed for almost a decade and lived alone in the falling-down home. Had no family in town anymore. He was a curmudgeonly recluse, according to Jensen’s brothers, and no one knew much about him. Maybe if Jensen wrote him an honest letter, from the heart, about what this project meant to him, what Davison had meant to him, maybe he’d crack the old coot. Hell, Jensen would even handwrite it.
“And here’s your double espresso,” Eva said with a smile as she set the steaming cup on his table. “Oh, Jensen, I hope you’re coming to the barb
ecue at Sunshine Farm this afternoon. Your brothers will be there. And half the town. Oh, and someone else you know—Mikayla Brown.”
Ooh, a homespun party on Mikayla’s turf? She’d feel more comfortable and therefore be more open to talking to him. “I’d love to come, and thanks for the invitation,” he said. He hadn’t seen Mikayla in two days, which had seemed like an eternity given that he didn’t know how long he’d have in Rust Creek Falls.
“Special occasion?” he asked, taking a sip of the excellent espresso. Second one of the day, and it hit the spot. Again.
“Luke’s sister Dana has come home for her summer break from college, and the Stocktons love a reason to get together, especially when there’s barbecue involved. Luke’s great on the grill, so come hungry.”
He couldn’t help picturing Mikayla. Oh, he’d come hungry, all right. He was hungry.
“Ah, finally,” Eva said, glancing up at the clock on the wall. “It’s noon. My shift’s over. See you at one at Sunshine Farm.”
He smiled. “I’ll be there.”
He smiled at the woman who came to relieve Eva behind the counter, then drained his espresso and left. Time to pick up something to bring to the barbecue—where and what, he had no clue. Usually he’d bring a great bottle of something or a two-hundred-year-old cheese. He wished he could fly in his favorite potato salad from a great gourmet deli in Tulsa, and he would if there were time.
Since it was so close to 1:00 p.m. by the time he fired off the last of his business emails back at the log mansion, got out of the shower and dressed in jeans, a Western shirt and his more down-to-earth cowboy boots, he swiped a bottle of wine from Walker’s collection and left a hundred-dollar bill tucked into the rack.
When he arrived at Sunshine Farm, streams of people were walking around the property. Eva hadn’t been kidding; half the town was here. He presented the wine to Eva and got a kiss on the cheek for that, then left to find his lovely Mikayla.
His Mikayla? Had he just thought that? He hadn’t seen her for two days and had thought of her constantly.
The Maverick's Baby-In-Waiting Page 6