Mommy and the Maverick

by Meg Maxwell

  A cheer went up in the room and Marissa glanced at the TV. It was showing a teaser promo for The Great Roundup, which was about to start in a few minutes, and there was Brenna O’Reilly, hometown girl, giving an interview, reality-TV-style, to someone off camera about how she never thought she could do this, but here she was, a hairstylist from Rust Creek Falls, participating in the competition with her hot fiancé, and she was going to give it her all.

  You go, Brenna. Marissa knew all about finding herself in uncharted territory. You gave it your all or... There was actually no alternative.

  “Brenna O’Reilly and Travis Dalton?” Anne said. She smiled and shook her head. “The cowboy no one ever thought would settle down and the flirty hairstylist always up for adventure—engaged. Crazy.”

  Marissa had gone to high school with Brenna, who’d been a year behind her. They’d been only acquaintances, but she had to agree. Plus, hadn’t Brenna always talked about getting out of Rust Creek Falls? Granted, she had for the TV show, which had filmed for what must have been six very exciting weeks at the High Lonesome Guest Ranch. Rumor had it that Brenna and Travis would be coming to the viewing party, even though they’d been invited to watch the first episode with the producers and some of the other competitors.

  “Chemistry works in mysterious ways,” Jamie Stockton said, his arm around his wife, Fallon O’Reilly Stockton—Brenna’s sister.

  It sure was nice to see Jamie Stockton out for a change. Before he’d fallen in love with Fallon, the widowed rancher had been raising his baby triplets on his own. If anyone needed a night out, it was Jamie.

  Fallon smiled and nodded, raising her beer mug. She had visited her sister on location during the filming of the show last month. But Fallon wouldn’t say a word about what had gone on behind the scenes. Apparently, she’d had to sign confidentiality papers not to ruin any surprises.

  What the whole town did know was that originally, Travis, the ultimate showman cowboy, was the only Rust Creek Falls contestant on the show, which was about cowboys—men and women—competing in Western-style challenges. But when the producers were in town last month to film some hometown segments and saw what amazing chemistry Travis had with his girlfriend, Brenna—and how camera ready Brenna was—they’d invited them both on the show. No one had even suspected Travis and Brenna were dating, but the next thing everyone knew, Travis had proposed and they were competing as The Great Roundup’s “engaged couple.” If Marissa could binge watch the whole season in one night, she would. But she, like everyone else, would have to wait for every episode over the next several months.

  “Now, that sounds like Travis,” said Nate Crawford, who owned the general store and a hotel in town, “Asking a woman to marry him for good ratings.” He grinned and shook his head.

  Anne laughed. “I saw them a bunch of times together last month during the filming here. When the cameras weren’t rolling. No way were they faking anything for ratings. Those two are in love for sure.”

  “Still, I can’t imagine proposing to a woman on a whim,” Zach Dalton said, adjusting his bolo tie as though it were squeezing his neck. Marissa glanced at Zach at the table on their other side. The handsome newcomer to town and his four brothers were cousins of Travis’s.

  “Well, no matter what happened behind the scenes,” Anne said, “everything sure worked out for Travis and Brenna. They’re engaged.”

  Marissa sighed. It sure had. All the romance in the air had left her a little wistful. Last month, her daughter Abby had talked nonstop about how “dreamy” their new town “star” Travis was, almost as dreamy as Lyle, the lead singer of 2LOVEU. And Marissa had always admired Brenna’s free-spirited ways, especially back in high school. Brenna had had lots of dates, while Marissa had dated only one boy throughout high school and always expected they would get married. When she got pregnant after prom night, she’d married Michael Fuller at age eighteen. But Brenna had sown her wild oats and found love when she was ready for it. Good for you, Brenna.

  Just as Marissa was about to try to flag one of the very busy waitresses, who were all racing around with platters of steaks and appetizers and ribs and trays of beer and soda, Abby ran over.

  “Mom!” her daughter said, her brown eyes all dreamy. “That’s the one you should pick. For sure.”

  Pick? Huh? Marissa looked in the direction her daughter was staring.

  Ah. Three very good-looking men—two the Jones brothers and a third, who looked just like them—stood at the bar, talking, smiling, whispering. Marissa couldn’t take her eyes off the one she didn’t know. She was pretty sure she’d heard that Walker and Hudson, who owned Just Us Kids, had other brothers. And the tall Adonis between them, with his thick dark blond hair and sparkling, intense blue eyes, his designer shirt clearly costing more than her three kids’ wardrobes for a year, had to be a Jones. They were millionaires, yes, but also rare men who looked like they belonged both in Montana and a big city. There was something about the cut of the Western shirt, the premium leather cowboy boots, the belt buckle on which was carved the initials AJ and the trim fit of low-slung dark jeans. Since her daughter knew who Walker and Hudson were, the girl had to be talking about the one in the middle. Abby was right. He was sexy.

  “They look like they should be in an ad for men’s cologne,” Marissa quipped. “Or on a movie poster. But pick for what?” she asked her daughter.

  Abby grinned and leaned close. “To be your boyfriend.” The girl giggled and ran back to her seat next to her best friend.

  Anne burst into laughter, but Marissa sighed. This was not the first time Abby had brought up the b word.

  “Isn’t she a little young to be this boy crazy?” Marissa asked her friend. “I mean, it’s one thing for Abby to be putting up posters of 2LOVEU on her bedroom wall. It’s another for her to be sizing up every man she sees as a potential love interest for her own mother.”

  Anne smiled but sighed, too. “Janie’s the same. I hear her say good-night to the lead singer of 2LOVEU before bed. We weren’t much different with our posters when we were kids.”

  “Except we can’t remember being kids because we’re a hundred years old,” Marissa pointed out.

  Anne laughed. “Exactly.”

  Marissa found herself staring at the gorgeous stranger again. She had to hand it to her daughter—the girl had amazing taste. Marissa loved the way his blond hair swooped up and back like a Hemsworth brother’s. The few crinkles at the edges of his blue eyes suggested he was a bit older than her. Early thirties, she’d say. And those shoulders. Those arms. The way his waist narrowed down to those delicious jeans, which—

  Oh my God.

  He raised his beer glass at her and winked.

  He’d caught her staring!

  Mortifying!

  “Can the floor open up and swallow me?” Marissa said, wishing the woman at the table in front of her had bigger hair so she could block Marissa and her cheeks, which had to be bright red.

  “And miss the start of The Great Roundup?” Anne said with an evil grin. “Go talk to him! Hurry. You only have a few minutes.”

  “What? Talk to that? That absolute gorgeous specimen of man? He barely looks real he’s so hot.”

  Anne laughed. “The waitresses are so busy we’ll never get served before the show starts. Go get us two drafts and order a platter of something yummy. Perfect excuse to meet His Hotness. I heard Lindsay mention that her brother-in-law Autry was due in town this week and that Autry has been to just about every country in the world. How exciting is that? The man is a jet-setter. And gorgeous. Go get him.”

  A tiny bit of Marissa, who was trying to be more “in the moment,” per a magazine article, wanted to do just that.

  But come on. Marissa was a widowed mother of three young daughters and living with her parents. She might seem attractive across a room when he knew nothing about her
, but she had no doubt that the man would run all the way back to Tulsa, where she’d heard the Jones brothers hailed from, the moment he discovered what her life was.

  “I can just see that very expensive-looking man plucking green beans out of Kiera’s ears,” Marissa said. “Not. He’s nice to look at, but come on. I’m going to be on my own until Kaylee’s out of high school.” Which was only, gulp, fifteen more years.

  “Marissa Fuller!” Anne chastised her with a smile. “What did Brenna and Travis’s crazy whirlwind romance teach us? That you just never know. If you’re open to it, if you’re there, love just might show up.”

  Marisa was so touched by how positive Anne always was—and Anne was the divorcee who’d never, ever gotten over her first love, Daniel Stockton. She wrapped her friend in a hug. “Maybe we’ll both find love again,” Marissa said.

  “Well, if I were you, I’d march over to the bar before some other single woman does.”

  But Marissa stayed put, an eye on Abby and her thoughts back home. Yes, a night out was sorely needed, but Marissa missed putting her little ones to bed and wishing them sweet dreams. That was her life. Not hot men in thousand-dollar cowboy boots.

  But this particular one sure was nice to fantasize about.

  Chapter Two

  Autry watched the brunette with the dark eyes try to snag the waitress’s attention at least five times. She wasn’t having any luck. Which gave him his perfect in. He asked the bartender for two of the finest craft beers and got an eye roll and two drafts on tap.

  “I keep telling you, Autry,” his brother Walker said. “This is Rust Creek Falls. And a dive bar in Rust Creek Falls. We don’t do twelve-dollar bottles of beer here.” His brother’s wedding band glinted in the dim lighting.

  “And two beers?” Hudson asked with a grin. “You got here, what? Five minutes ago? And you already have your eye on someone?”

  Autry smiled. “I’m in town for three weeks. That’s a long time. And you two have wives now and lives outside Jones Holdings. I need something to fill the hours.”

  “Careful, brother,” Walker said, running a hand through his dirty-blond hair. “There’s something in the water here. It got me. It got Hudson. It’s gonna get you.”

  “Not a chance,” Autry said, his gaze on the luscious brunette beauty. Had a woman in jean shorts and a yellow T-shirt ever been so stunning? “End of August, I’ll be in Paris. As single as ever.”

  “If you say so,” Hudson said, raising his beer glass at Autry.

  Autry caught the smirk Hudson gave Walker. No matter what, it sure was nice to see Walker and Hudson together. Joking, laughing, sharing a beer. Once, back when they were all kids, Walker and Hudson had been close. But they hadn’t been for years. Looked like being neighbors had changed that some.

  A woman standing next to them with a baby in her arms turned to Walker. “Hey, Walker, will you hold Jackson for me for a moment while I go hug my aunt and uncle?”

  “You bet, Candace,” Walker said, taking the baby as if he did this sort of thing all the time.

  Walker Jones. The Third. With a baby in his arms. Bouncing it a bit and making baby talk. “Who’s a cute one?” Walker said, nuzzling his nose at the tiny tot.

  Good Lord. What planet was Autry on? Was Rust Creek Falls in another dimension?

  And there really were babies everywhere. Even in bars. Though, granted, tonight was a special occasion. From the looks of the place, the entire town had turned up to watch The Great Roundup. With all the buzz Autry had heard about the show in the ten minutes he’d been in the Ace in the Hole, he was excited to watch. Cowboys competing for a million bucks? Hell yeah. That was his kind of TV. The Jones family might be millionaires, but they were cowboys at heart. Autry’s first memory was of being on the back of a horse. And the first gift he’d ever gotten? A “piggy” bank in the shape of a stallion. Money and horses were two hallmarks of the Jones family.

  The baby’s mother returned and held out her arms for little Jackson. “You’re a peach,” she said to Walker.

  Walker, a peach? Autry couldn’t help himself. He laughed.

  Hudson grinned. “Trust me. If peachhood got Walker and me, you’re next. You’re here.”

  “I’m immune,” Autry said.

  “Sure, bro,” Hudson said with a knowing nod. He glanced toward the tables. “Bella’s waving us over to our seats. Our rib platters arrived.”

  Autry glanced at their table—two entire tables away from the brunette beauty. Way too far.

  “Let’s all go sit down,” Walker said, nodding at his wife, Lindsay, who sat next to Bella. “I’m really glad you’re here, Autry. We barely got to talk at the weddings. After the show we’ll all head over to Maverick Manor for a nightcap.” Walker clapped Autry on the shoulder, then followed Hudson across the room.

  The bartender placed the two beers Autry had ordered on the bar. “Be right there,” Autry called.

  Beers in hand, he wove his way through tables and the standing room–only crowd. There was no way in hell he could resist meeting this woman. Just as there was no chance in that same hell they’d have anything other than a few amazing weeks together before he jetted off to Paris. If she was game, what was the harm in letting something happen between them for twenty-one delicious days? And something would happen. The closer he got to her table, the more her brown eyes and her unenhanced pink-red lips drew him in. He had to know her. Well, on a superficial level.

  “Hello,” he said, nodding at the brunette and the blonde beside her. “Here you go,” he said, handing a beer to each woman. “Autry Jones, at your service.”

  “I knew you had to be a Jones brother,” the brunette said. “I’m Marissa Fuller and this is my friend Anne Lattimore. Thanks for the beers. That was very thoughtful.” She smiled and took a sip, then set down the glass and looked around. Not at him.

  Huh. Where was the flirtatiousness? Where was the fawning? Where was the sidling up to him and pressing herself against him like most women did?

  “Are you in town visiting your brothers?” Marissa asked, taking another sip of beer.

  He nodded. “For three weeks. I’m used to Tulsa, so Rust Creek Falls is a nice change.”

  “Are you staying with Walker or Hudson?” Marissa asked. “I’ll admit, sometimes I drive by Walker’s house just to look at it. It’s amazing. A mansion made entirely out of logs.”

  He smiled. “A log mansion for Walker and a beautiful ranch for Hudson. I visited both homes after their weddings back in May and June. But I’m staying at Maverick Manor.”

  Surprise crossed her pretty features. “For three weeks?”

  “I like room service,” he said. The truth was that he wasn’t close enough with either brother to feel comfortable staying with them that long. And he did like room service. Besides, Autry had gotten so used to luxury hotels that anything too homespun would feel...wrong and claustrophobic.

  She laughed. “Don’t we all.”

  Her smile had him so captivated he almost forgot where he was. But then the lights dimmed and he noticed Walker waving him over. “Autry, I’m gonna eat your share of the ribs,” his brother called.

  Marissa glanced at Walker and laughed. “Better get over there before there’s nothing but a plate of bones.”

  “Nice to meet you, Autry,” Anne said. “And thanks for the beer.”

  He. Could. Not. Make. His. Legs. Move. Away.

  “Uh, buddy, you’re blocking my view of the TV,” a man said, and Autry snapped back to attention.

  “Sorry,” he said to the guy. He smiled at Marissa and her friend and headed over to his seat.

  Autry glanced back at Marissa shortly after, but instead of ogling him with a sexy look on her face, letting him know she was up for meeting later, she was chatting with her friend.

  Well, w
ell, he thought, biting into a succulent rib with the best barbecue sauce he’d had in years. A challenge had just presented itself. And challenge was Autry Jones’s middle name.

  * * *

  Hmm, Marissa thought as the credits began rolling on the two big-screen TVs. The man was in town for three weeks. Might be nice to go out to dinner or a movie with a very good-looking man, a nice change of pace from watching ET and Frozen for the thirtieth time in her parents’ family room, then cleaning up errant popcorn kernels.

  “There’s Travis!” Anne said, as the cowboy’s handsome face filled the screen. They were showing a promo video he’d shot last month in Rust Creek Falls, talking about his love of horses and his fiancée. Then there was Travis and Brenna on horseback, riding along with the other contestants to the “canteen” where the host, Jasper Ridge, a middle-aged cowboy all in black with a black handlebar mustache, awaited. The Ace in the Hole erupted in cheers.

  Jasper explained the rules—the last cowboy or cowgirl standing would win one million dollars. Whoa boy. That was a lot of money. The contestants would be paired for some challenges, but each was competing on his or her own. So alliances could be made, but it might not get the contestants anywhere but tricked and eliminated. Marissa watched as the twenty-two contestants were introduced in little snippets. There was the Franklin family—widowed Fred and his twin sons, Rob and Joey. A grizzled cowboy named Wally Wilson in his late sixties. A fortysomething divorcée named Roberta and a handsome former soldier, Steve, with a prosthetic leg. Marissa’s attention was snagged by one contestant in particular—a sexy blonde rodeo star named Summer Knight.