Maverick vs. Maverick Read online

  Walker signed his name on the page asking for people to mount the signs on posts. Anderson opted to work with him. “Sounds like you found all that here,” Walker said. Anderson sounded happy, the kind of deep-rooted happiness that filled a man’s soul.

  A satisfied smile curved across Anderson’s face. “I did. I have a fabulous wife, two great kids, and I spend my days outdoors in this beautiful Montana country. I couldn’t ask for anything better.”

  A part of Walker envied Anderson’s happiness. The contentment in his voice. What would it be like to have that kind of...

  Home. Because that was exactly what he saw shining in Anderson’s eyes when he talked about his wife, his family, his town. He had found home.

  Walker thought of the glass and chrome apartment he’d be returning to in a few days, smack dab in the heart of Tulsa. When he’d rented it, he’d thought it was perfect—great location, great views, great building. But never in the three years he’d lived there had he thought of it as home.

  It was just this town. Being around all this...quaintness, with these neighbors straight out of a Hallmark card. This wasn’t real life—or at least, not his real life. And he’d do well to remember that before he had some misplaced envy for the misty look in another guy’s eyes.

  The two of them were ushered over to a pile of painted boards and a stack of stakes, and they spent the next half hour attaching the boards to the stakes, then setting the signs against the wall. Other volunteers came and took the signs in bunches of six or so, to take back to the park for setup.

  Lindsay and Lani had chosen to paint signs. They were on the other side of the room, and he could hear Lindsay’s laughter from time to time. Everything within Walker was attuned to her, as if an invisible string tethered them together. He glanced over in her direction a thousand times, but she never even acknowledged his presence. Twice, he hit his thumb with the hammer instead of watching what he was doing.

  “That’s it,” Anderson said a few minutes later. He brushed his hands together. “We’re ahead of the sign painters, and we’ll have to wait for the new signs to dry anyway before we can mount them on the stakes.”

  “That might take a while.”

  “Lucky for us, they’re just now bringing in lunch.” Anderson grinned. “And it’s being delivered by one very beautiful woman.” He waved to Walker to follow him over to several long tables set up with folding chairs and paper plates. Anderson stopped beside a redhead with blue eyes and a big smile, then gave her a kiss. “I missed you.”

  She laughed. “We’ve only been apart for a few hours.”

  “Long enough for me.” Anderson settled a hand on the woman’s waist, then gestured to Walker. “Walker, this is my wife, Marina. Marina, this is Walker Jones.”

  She shook his hand, then shifted back. “Wait. The same Walker Jones that Lindsay is suing?”

  “She’s suing my company, not me personally. I’m not such a bad guy.” He gave Marina a grin, but she wasn’t as easily won over as her husband. “Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Dalton.”

  “I have to finish getting the food set up.” She turned away from Walker and placed a quick kiss on Anderson’s cheek. “Save me a seat?”

  “The one right next to me, of course.” He smiled at her and watched her go.

  The couple was clearly happy together, still in that blush of new love. Walker could see it in the way their gazes lingered on each other, the way they managed to sneak in little touches of a hand, an arm. Theresa had always been more standoffish, less flirty, and Walker had always thought that was fine. But seeing Anderson and Marina made him wonder if perhaps he’d been missing out on something all these years.

  Was Lindsay Dalton the PDA type?

  Before he could question where that thought came from, and why it mattered, he shook it off. Instead, he turned to Anderson. “Your wife is beautiful,” he said.

  “And unfortunately not a fan of yours.” Anderson chuckled. “One thing about this town, and pretty much everyone who lives here, is that loyalty runs deep.”

  “I’m getting that impression.” He let out a long breath. He’d come to the volunteer day hoping to help out a little, connect with Lindsay and keep swaying the town’s opinion of himself and his day care center. So far, he was scoring a giant zero in all three categories. “Maybe it’s better if I leave.”

  Anderson put a hand on his shoulder. “Listen, I know there are two sides to every story. And you do strike me as a decent guy, especially since you’ve shown up twice to help out here. In the end, I’m Team Lindsay all the way, because she’s my sister and I know she wouldn’t have brought this lawsuit if she didn’t think she had probable cause, but even saying that... I think you should stay and have lunch.”

  “Even if your sister would rather I fall off a cliff?”

  Anderson chuckled. “That may be so. Either way, don’t let Lindsay scare you. She’s a softy at heart.”

  Lindsay came over just as Anderson was speaking. “Who are you calling a softy?”

  “My annoying little sister, of course.” Anderson gave Lindsay a faux jab to the shoulder. She feinted one back. “Anyway, I need to go help Marina set up for lunch. Why don’t you and Walker get the drink station ready? There’s tea and lemonade mixes in the school kitchen, and I left some big coolers down there that you can fill.”

  Lindsay shook her head. “I don’t think—”

  But Anderson had already walked off in the middle of Lindsay’s sentence, leaving Walker and Lindsay to figure it out. She let out a gust of breath. “Thanks a lot, Anderson,” she muttered to her brother’s retreating figure.

  Walker looked at Lindsay. She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail again today, which had a way of making her look more youthful and, yes, more like a softy. He liked the way the ponytail exposed the curve of her neck, the delicate loops in her ears, the slight V of her T-shirt. She might not want to be here and work with him, but he had to admit he sure didn’t want her to leave. Very soon—too soon—they’d be adversaries in court again, so why not use these last few moments without the court case between them to get to know her better? What was the harm in that?

  “There are going to be a bunch of hungry and thirsty people here soon,” he said. “If you just show me where the kitchen is, I can fill up the coolers.”

  “You don’t look like the kind of guy who knows how to make lemonade.” She considered him, one hand on her hip.

  He grinned. “You’ve got me there. The only cooking I’ve ever done consists of reheating a cup of coffee in the microwave.” All his life, he’d had people who were there to make his meals, clean up after him, take care of him. Being in Rust Creek Falls was the most hands-on Walker had ever been.

  And, surprisingly, he liked it. A lot.

  “All right. We can work together, but—” Lindsay wagged a finger at him and spun toward the exit “—we don’t need to talk while we do it.”

  “Oh, so we’re back to that again, are we?” he said, as he followed her down the hall to the school cafeteria. The hall was empty, the lights dim. Their footsteps echoed on the polished tile floors.

  “When did we ever leave that?” She pushed open the swinging metal door that led into the kitchen. Fluorescent lights flickered to life above them and bounced off an aluminum cart by the door.

  Walker took one side of the metal cart, and Lindsay took the other. Two round orange drink coolers sat on a nearby counter, waiting to be filled. “Did you forget about that kiss?”

  Her cheeks flushed, and she cut her gaze away. “We weren’t talking while we did that, either.”

  That made him laugh. “No, no, we weren’t. How do you do that?”

  Now she lifted her blue eyes to his. They were like an ocean after a storm—tumultuous, mysterious. “Do what?”

  “Turn tension into laughter.” He walke
d around the cart, closer to her. “You have this amazing ability.” He raised his hand to her face. The edge of her smile brushed against his thumb.

  She stepped out of his touch. “A good trait in the opposing counsel.”

  “Indeed. Though I think it’s too bad we are on opposite sides.”

  “We’d be on the same side if you acknowledged your fault,” she said. This was where Lindsay felt comfortable, arguing the law. When Walker had touched her and complimented her, it had knocked her off-kilter. It was as if being outside the courtroom eliminated her ability to think straight.

  “As we would be if you acknowledged the truth.”

  “What truth am I supposed to acknowledge?”

  “That you liked that kiss back in the gym as much as I did.”

  His gaze held hers. She felt like she was on a witness stand, sworn to honesty. “Whether I liked it or not is immaterial. It shouldn’t have happened.”

  He shook his head. “And there you go again, retreating into the law.”

  “I’m not retreating, Mr. Jones. I’m merely pointing out a fact.” Okay, so maybe she was lying. But this wasn’t a courtroom and she wasn’t under oath and she definitely didn’t want to acknowledge how many times she’d thought about that kiss.

  “Just like that first day in court. You are so damned confident and defiant—”

  “Stop trying to butter me up.” She started to turn away, but he kept talking and she stayed where she was.

  “But then I saw you playing peekaboo with the baby.” He cursed under his breath. “I am not some sentimental fool, believe me. But there was something about seeing you, this strong, powerful attorney—”

  “You think I’m strong and powerful?” Why couldn’t she turn away? Leave the room? Stop listening?

  “I think you’re more than that.” He shifted a degree closer. “I think you’re beautiful and smart and...addictive.”

  “Addiction can be a bad thing.” She swallowed hard, her gaze locked on his.

  “It can be,” he murmured.

  For a moment, the air in the room stilled. Lindsay stayed where she was, breathing in, out, watching Walker. She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak.

  Couldn’t understand why she was so attracted to a man who was the opposite of everything she loved in her life.

  “I don’t know what it is about you,” Walker said. “I know I should leave, but I just...stay.”

  “Me, too.” The admission whispered out of her.

  He shifted closer. Then he cupped her face with both his hands, leaned in and kissed her.

  She curved into him as if by instinct, fitting her soft body against all his hard places, filling in the blanks. His lips danced across hers, drifting slowly at first, tasting her, learning her. Then she let out a little mew, and he opened his mouth against hers, anxious to taste her, to tango with her tongue.

  In an instant, their kiss went from slow and easy to fast and wild. Hands roaming over backs, bodies pressing tight together, mouths tasting and nipping. He hoisted her onto the cart, sliding in between her legs.

  The cart shifted beneath them, creaking under the added weight. Lindsay jerked to attention and pulled away from him. Her face was flushed, her chest heaving. “We can’t do this. It’s wrong on a thousand levels.”

  It was indeed. What the hell was wrong with him? Lindsay Dalton was suing him, jeopardizing the future of the day care franchise. “Not to mention, we’d be foolish to pursue anything, given that in a few days, our business will be concluded,” he said.

  It was a cold way to phrase whatever this was between them, but the words made it easier for him to take her second rejection.

  Her gaze hardened. “You are right, Mr. Jones. Soon enough, our business will be concluded.”

  The echo of his own words whistled in his mind like an icy winter wind.

  Once the lawsuit was over, there was no reason for Walker to stay in Rust Creek Falls. He had a competent manager for the day care and his own business to run back in Tulsa. In a few days he would be leaving—

  And leaving Lindsay behind.

  She hopped down off the cart and grabbed one of the coolers on the counter. “People are waiting for their drinks. We don’t want to let them down. People here have already been through enough.”

  The hidden message in her words revealed itself clearly. When it came down to brass tacks, Lindsay Dalton’s allegiance would always be to Rust Creek Falls. No matter how many kisses they shared, no matter how hot and heavy. Come tomorrow morning he was the enemy, and she was the brave knight out to slay the evil corporate dragon.

  * * *

  Lindsay managed to sit as far away from Walker Jones as she possibly could during lunch. But that didn’t stop her from being aware of his every move, of the sound of his voice. Even twelve feet away, she could still feel his presence.

  Taste his kiss.

  Why did the man have to be such a good kisser? Why couldn’t he have been terrible at kissing, one of those sloppy, slobbering, overeager types that she could easily resist?

  Damn, he’d been so good. Too good. Making-her-crave-more-again-ASAP good.

  She made small talk, laughed at jokes, held babies, talked to her brother about the ranch and the kids, but her mind remained on Walker. In the morning, they’d go back to being adversaries, and she’d go back to suing his company, for the good of the Marshalls and all the parents whose children had ended up sick.

  Maybe he was just one of those charmers who tried to win the battle by making the opposition fall in love. Well, that wasn’t going to happen to her. No way. No how.

  No matter how well he kissed.

  For the rest of the afternoon Lindsay remained on the opposite side of the gym from Walker, working on different tasks. As the projects drew to a close and she finished cleaning up, she didn’t see Walker anywhere. He must have left when she wasn’t looking.

  She told herself she was relieved. She mostly believed it, too.

  As Lindsay said her goodbyes and walked out of the gym, a misty rain began to fall. She pocketed her keys and headed toward the park, her face upturned to catch some droplets. She loved these fall days, when the air held a sharp chill, a hint of the harsh winter to come. The slight bit of rain added an air of mysticism, like she was walking into a fairy tale.

  The park was quiet, empty. Leaves and small twigs crunched under Lindsay’s boots, and the trees rustled against the weight of the water above her head. The mist had stopped, and the air began to clear.

  She loved taking walks like this. Sometimes she’d walk the perimeter of the Dalton ranch, because the open air gave her room to think, to plan. With the trial starting tomorrow—and all the complications kissing Walker Jones had awakened—Lindsay needed this time to clear her head.

  She passed the wooden booths they’d constructed earlier, waiting for the festival in a few days, then skirted the signs advertising the hay rides and hot cider. Lindsay rounded the curved path that led to the back of the Rust Creek Falls Park. Far beyond the swings and monkey bars, there was a little-used grassy area that sported one lone picnic table beneath the spreading arms of an oak tree. Mountains rose like dark sentries in the background, guarding the deep sea of trees below. Lindsay climbed onto the table, resting her feet on the seat, and leaned back, letting the approaching night wash over her.

  “What a beautiful sight.”

  She started at the deep voice behind her and spun around. Walker Jones stood there, impossibly tall and handsome. Her heart did an instant skip beat, and her hormones rushed to center stage to stir up memories of his kiss. “Walker. You scared me.”

  “Sorry, I thought you heard me come up behind you.” He ambled over to the front of the table and gestured to the space beside her. “Do you mind?”

  Half of her wanted him to s
it there, wanted a reason to brush up against him, but the other half was screaming for her to be cautious. He was her adversary, after all, not her boyfriend. Or even her friend. “We shouldn’t—”

  “Yeah, I know.” He let out a long breath. “But it’s been a long day and it’s a beautiful view and I don’t want to enjoy it alone.”

  There was something in his voice, something melancholy and lonely, that tugged at her heartstrings. Damn. Maybe Anderson was right and she was a big softy. Lindsay shifted to make room for Walker. “I love this place. I come here all the time when I get stressed out.”

  “Worried about tomorrow?”

  “Nice try, Walker, but I won’t discuss the case with you.” The last thing she needed to do was tell the man she was suing that she was worried she didn’t have enough of a case. That she was going to let everyone down.

  That she would fail.

  “Fair enough,” he said. “So what should we talk about? The origins of Columbus Day? A fact I learned today, thanks to the local paper.”

  She laughed. Five minutes ago, she’d vowed not to let him get close again, but then he made a joke and broke the tension, and her resolve flagged. “That’s big news in this town. Not a whole lot happens in Rust Creek Falls.”

  He shrugged. “Could be a blessing not many places have,” he said. He looked around the park and shook his head, as if he couldn’t quite believe what he was seeing. “This town is almost like one of those Norman Rockwell paintings. Or an episode of Happy Days. I feel like I’m caught in a time warp or I’m on an alien planet.”

  She bristled. “Come on, it’s not that bad.”

  He looked back at her, and his eyes seemed to glimmer in the dusk. “I didn’t say it was bad, necessarily...just different.”

  “I take it Jenks and Tulsa aren’t like this?”

  He scoffed. “It’s not as big a city as, say, New York or Chicago, but Tulsa especially has its fair share of problems and crime. It’s so busy, it seems to breathe, fast and hard, like a runner rounding a track. Everything is always moving, changing. There’s nothing personal or neighborly about it. It’s a city, as hard and cold as steel. But this town...” He shrugged. “Rust Creek Falls is different. And believe it or not, I can see how people would like it here.”