Breaking Bailey's Rules

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Breaking Bailey's Rules Page 7

by Brenda Jackson


  A part of him wanted to think she was just a woman, easy to forget. But he knew she wasn’t just any woman. She wasn’t the only person with rules, and somehow Bailey had breached all the rules he’d put in place. At the top of his list was not letting another woman get to him.

  Whether it was her making him smile or her making him frown, or her filling him with the degree of anger like he was feeling now—she made him feel too much.

  He heard the sound of doors opening and closing downstairs and figured the card game had run its course. Pretty much like he’d run his.

  It would be to his advantage to remain true to what he knew. Bailey called it being a loner, but he saw it as surviving.

  * * *

  Bailey glanced at her watch as she got out of her truck once she’d reached Ramsey’s Web. Most of her day had been filled with meetings, getting to know her new staff as they got to know her management style. It was important for them to know they were a team.

  However, no matter how busy she’d stayed today, thoughts of Walker had filled her mind. He was furious with her, angrier than he’d been two nights ago. Was his anger justified? Had she crossed the line in asking him to do that piece for the magazine?

  She was still upset about his insinuation that she would go as far as to use her body to get what she wanted. She didn’t play those kinds of games, and for him to assume she did didn’t sit well with her. So the way she saw it, they’d both been out of line. They’d both said things they probably regretted today. But she had to remember that Walker was a guest of her family, and the last thing she wanted to be was guilty of offending him. Dillon had placed a lot of confidence in her, and her family would never forgive her if she had offended Walker.

  She needed to talk to someone about it before she saw Walker today, and the two people she could always go to for advice were Dillon and Ramsey. There was a chance she would run into Walker at Dillon’s place, so she thought it best to seek out Ramsey and ask how she could fix things with Walker before the situation got too out of hand.

  She found her eldest brother in his six-car garage with his head stuck under the hood of his Jeep. She loved Ramsey’s Web and during her brother’s before-Chloe days, she’d spent time here getting deliberately underfoot, knowing he wouldn’t have it any other way. The two years when Ramsey had lived in Australia had been hard for her.

  The sound of her footsteps must have alerted him to her presence. He lifted his head and smiled at her. “Bay? How are things going?”

  “Fine. I would give you a hug but I don’t want grease all over me. Why are you changing your oil instead of letting JoJo do it?”

  Ramsey chuckled as he wiped his hands. “Because there are some things I’d rather do myself, especially to this baby here. She’s been with me since the beginning.”

  Bailey nodded. She knew the Jeep had been Ramsey’s first car and the last gift he’d gotten from their parents. It had been a birthday gift while he’d been in college. “You still keep it looking good.”

  “Always.” He leaned back against the Jeep and studied her curiously. “So what’s going on with you, Bailey Joleen Westmoreland?”

  This was her eldest brother and he’d always had the ability to read her when others couldn’t. “It’s Walker.”

  He lifted a brow. “What about Walker?”

  She glanced down at her pointed-toe boots a second before meeting Ramsey’s gaze. “I think I might have offended him.”

  Ramsey crossed his arms over his chest, and she could tell from his expression that he didn’t like the sound of that. “How?”

  “It’s a long story.”

  “Start from the beginning. I have time.”

  So she did, not rushing through most of the story and deliberately leaving out some parts. Such as how she’d found Walker utterly attractive from the first, how they’d both tried to ignore the sexual chemistry between them and how they’d made out in her truck last night.

  “Well, there you have it, Ram. I apologized to him last night about my wrong assumptions about his feelings on marriage, but I made him mad again when I asked him to do the interview.”

  Ramsey shook his head. “Let me get this straight. You found out he used to be a movie star who left Hollywood after the deaths of his wife and child, yet you wanted to interview him about being a loner since that time?”

  Ramsey sounded as if he couldn’t believe she’d done such a thing. “But that wasn’t going to be the angle to the story,” she argued. “Simply Irresistible isn’t a tabloid. I’m not looking for details of his life in Hollywood. Women are curious about men who hang back from the crowd. Not everyone is interested in a life-of-the-party type of male. Women see loners as mysterious and want to know more about them. I thought Walker would be perfect since he’s lived by himself for ten years on that ranch in Alaska. I figured he could shed some light on what it’s like to be a loner.”

  “Think about what you were asking him to do, Bay. You were asking to invade his space, pry into his life and make public what he probably prefers to keep private. I bet if you had run your idea by Chloe or Lucia, they would have talked you out of it. Your plan was kind of insensitive, don’t you think?”

  With Ramsey presenting it that way she guessed it was. She honestly hadn’t thought about it that way. She had seen an opportunity and jumped without thinking. “But I would have made the Hollywood part of his life off-limits. It was the loner aspect I wanted to concentrate on. I tried to explain that to him.”

  “And how were you planning to separate the two? Our pasts shape us into the people we are today. Look at you. Like him, you suffered a double loss. A quadruple one, to be exact. And look how you reacted. Would you want someone to show up and ask to interview you about that? How can you define the Bailey you are today without remembering the old you, and what it took to make you grow from one into the other?”

  His question had her thinking.

  “And I think you missed the mark on something,” he added.

  She lifted a brow. “What?”

  “Assuming being a loner means being antisocial. You can be a loner and still be close to others. Everybody needs some me time. Some people need it more so than others. Case in point, I was a loner before Chloe. Even when I had all of you here with me in Westmoreland Country, I kept to myself. At night, when I came here alone, I didn’t need anyone invading my space.”

  She nodded, realizing something. “But I often invaded it, Ram.”

  “Yes, you did.”

  Bailey wondered, for the first time, if he had minded. As if reading her thoughts, he said, “No, Bay. Your impromptu visits never bothered me. All I want you to see is that not everyone needs a crowd. Some people can be their own company, and it’s okay.”

  That was practically what Walker had said. In fact, he had gone even further by saying she was dependent on a crowd. Namely, her large family.

  “Looks as if I need to apologize to Walker again. If I keep it up, he’s going to think ‘I’m sorry’ is my middle name. Guess I’ll go find him.”

  “That’s going to be pretty difficult.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why?”

  “Because Walker isn’t here. He’s left.”

  “Left?”

  “Yes, left. He’s on his way back to Alaska. Zane took him to the airport around noon.”

  “B-but he had planned to stay for the wedding. He hadn’t met everyone since some of the cousins won’t be coming in until tomorrow.”

  “Couldn’t be helped. He claimed something came up on his ranch that he had to take care of.”

  What Ramsey didn’t say, but what she figured he was thinking, was that Walker’s departure had nothing to do with his ranch and everything to do with her. “Fine. He left. But I’m going to apologize to him anyway.”

  “Um, I probably
wouldn’t ask Dillon for Walker’s phone number if I were you, especially not if you tell him the same story you just told me.”

  Bailey nibbled her bottom lip. How was she going to get out of the mess she’d gotten herself into?

  Six

  “So tell me again why you cut the trip short.”

  Walker glared across the kitchen at his best friend, who had made himself at home, sitting at Walker’s table and greedily devouring a bowl of cereal.

  “Why? I’ve told you once already. The Westmorelands are legit. I didn’t have to prolong the visit. Like I said, no matter what Bart believes, I think you and your brothers should take them seriously. They’re good people.”

  Walker turned to the sink with the pretense of rinsing out his coffee cup. What he’d told Garth about the Westmorelands being good people was true—up to a point. As far as he was concerned, the jury was still out on Bailey.

  Bailey.

  There was no way Walker could have hung around another day and breathed the same air that she did. He clenched his jaw at the thought that he had allowed her to get under his skin. She was just the type who could get embedded in a man’s soul if he was weak enough to let it happen.

  On top of everything else, she was as gutsy as the day was long. She’d definitely had a lot of nerve asking him to do that interview. She was used to getting what she wanted, but he wasn’t one of her brothers or cousins. He had no reason to give in to her every wish.

  “You actually played cards with Thorn Westmoreland?” Garth asked with what sounded like awe.

  “Yes,” Walker said over his shoulder. “He told us about the bike he’s building for some celebrity.”

  “Really? Did you mention that you used to be an actor and that you know a lot of those folks in Hollywood?”

  “No.”

  “Why not?”

  Walker turned around. “I was there to get to know them, not the other way around, Garth. They didn’t need to know anything about me other than that I was a friend to the Outlaws who came in good faith to get to know them.”

  But that hadn’t stopped them from finding out about his past anyway. He wasn’t sure who all knew, since the only person who’d mentioned anything about his days in Hollywood was Bailey. If the others knew, they’d been considerate enough to respect his privacy. That had been too much to expect of Bailey. All she’d seen was an opportunity to sell magazines.

  “I think I’ll take your advice and suggest to the others that we pay those Westmorelands a visit. In fact, I’m looking forward to it.”

  “You won’t be disappointed,” Walker said, opening the dishwasher to place his cup inside. “How are you going to handle Bart? Do you have any idea why he’s so dead set against any of you establishing relationships with your new cousins?”

  “No, but it doesn’t matter. He’ll have to get over it.” Garth glanced at his watch. “I hate to run but I have a meeting back in Fairbanks in three hours. That will give Regan just enough time to fly me out of here and get me back to the office.”

  Regan Fairchild had been Garth’s personal pilot for the past two years. She’d taken her father’s place as the corporate pilot for the Outlaws after he retired. “I’ll see you out.”

  When they passed through the living room, Garth glanced over at Walker. “When you want to tell me the real reason you left Denver early, let me know. Don’t forget I can read you like a book, Walker.”

  Walker didn’t want to hear that. “Don’t waste your time. Go read someone else.”

  They had almost made it across the room when Walker’s doorbell sounded. “That’s probably Macon. He’s supposed to stop by today and check out that tractor he wants to buy from me.”

  They had reached the door and, without checking to see who was on the other side, Walker opened it. Shocked, his mouth dropped open as his gaze raked over the woman standing there.

  “Hello, Walker.”

  He recovered, although not as quickly as he would have liked. “Bailey! What the hell are you doing here?”

  Instead of answering, her gaze shifted to the man standing by his side. “Hey, you look like Riley,” she said, as her face broke into a smile.

  It was a smile that Garth returned. “And you look like Charm.”

  She chuckled. “No, Charm looks like me. I understand I’m older.”

  “Excuse me for breaking up this little chitchat, but what are you doing here, Bailey?” Walker asked in an annoyed tone.

  “Evidently she came here to see you, and on that note, I am out of here. I need to make that meeting,” Garth said, slipping out the door. He looked over his shoulder at Walker with an expression that clearly said, You have a lot of explaining to do.

  To Bailey, Garth said, “Welcome to Hemlock Row. I’ll let the family know you’re here. Hopefully Walker will fly you into Fairbanks.”

  “Don’t hold your breath for that to happen,” Walker said. He doubted Garth heard as he quickly darted to his parked car. His best friend had a lot of damn nerve. How dare he welcome anyone to Walker’s home?

  Walker turned his attention back to Bailey, trying to ignore the flutter in his stomach at seeing just how beautiful she looked. Nor did he want to concentrate on her scent, which had filled his nostrils the moment he’d opened the door.

  Walker crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ve asked you twice already and you’ve yet to answer,” he said in a harsh tone. “What are you doing here?”

  * * *

  Bailey blew out a chilled breath, wrapped her arms around herself and tried not to shiver. “Could you invite me inside first? It’s cold out here.”

  He hesitated, as if he were actually considering doing just the opposite, and then he stepped back. She hurriedly came inside and closed the door behind her. She had dressed in layers, double the amount she would have used in Denver, yet she still felt chilled to the bone.

  “You might as well come and stand in front of the fireplace to warm up.”

  “Thanks,” she said, surprised he’d made the offer. After sliding the carry-on bag from her shoulders, she peeled off her coat, then her jacket and gloves.

  Instead of renting a car, she had opted for a cab service, even though the ride from the airstrip had cost her a pretty penny. But she hadn’t cared. She’d been cold, exhausted and determined to get to Walker’s place before nightfall.

  The cabbie had been chatty, explaining that Walker seldom got visitors and trying to coax her into telling him why she was there. She’d let him talk, and when he’d figured out she wasn’t providing any information, he’d finally lapsed into silence. But only for a little while. Then he’d pointed out a number of evergreen trees and told her they were mountain hemlocks, a tree common to Alaska. He’d told her about the snowstorm headed their way and said she’d made it to the island just in time or she would have been caught in it. Sounded to her as if she would get caught in it anyway since her return flight was forty-eight hours from now. The man had been born and raised on the island and had a lot of history to share.

  When the cabbie had driven up to the marker for Hemlock Row, the beautiful two-story ranch house that sat on Walker’s property made her breath catch. It was like looking at a gigantic postcard. It had massive windows, multiple stone chimneys and a wraparound porch. It sat on the Shelikof Strait, which served as a backdrop that was simply beautiful, even if it was out in the middle of nowhere and surrounded by snow. The only other house they’d passed had to be at least ten to fifteen miles away.

  Walker’s home was not as large as Dillon’s, but like Dillon’s, it had a rustic feel, as if it belonged just where it sat.

  “Drink this,” Walker said, handing her a mug filled with hot liquid. She hadn’t realized he’d left her alone. She’d been busy looking around at the furniture, which seemed warm and welcoming.

&
nbsp; “Thanks.” She took a sip of what tasted like a mixture of coffee, hot chocolate and a drop of tea. It tasted delicious. As delicious as Walker looked standing directly in front of her, barefoot, with an open-collar sweater and jeans riding low on his hips. What man looked this mouthwatering so early in the day? Had it really been a week since she’d seen him last? A week when she’d thought about him every day, determined to make this trip to Kodiak Island, Alaska, to personally deliver the apology she needed to make.

  “Okay, now that you’ve warmed up, how about telling me what you’re doing here.”

  She lowered the cup and met his gaze. After telling Lucia and Chloe what she’d done and what she planned to do, they had warned her that Walker probably wouldn’t be happy to see her. She could tell from the look on his face that they’d been right. “I came to see you. I owe you an apology for what I said. What I suggested doing with that piece for the magazine.”

  He frowned. “Why are you apologizing? Doing something so inconsiderate and uncaring seems to be so like you.”

  His words hurt but she couldn’t get mad. That was unfortunately the way she’d presented herself since meeting him. “That goes to show how wrong you are about me and how wrong I was for giving you reason to think that way.”

  “Whatever. You shouldn’t have bothered. I don’t think there’s anything you can do or say to change my opinion of you.”

  That angered her. “I never realized you were so judgmental.”

  “I’m as judgmental as you are.”

  She wondered if all this bitterness and anger were necessary. Possibly, but at the moment she was too exhausted to deal with it. What should have been a fifteen-hour flight had become a twenty-two-hour flight when the delay of one connection had caused her to miss another. On top of everything else, due to the flight chaos, her luggage was heaven knew where. The airline assured her it would be found and delivered to her within twenty-four hours. She hoped that was true because she planned to fly out again in two days.

 

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