The Maverick's Baby-In-Waiting

by Melissa Senate

  Mikayla stopped pacing and sat down, too. She explained about running into Jensen at Baby Bonanza.

  “Wow,” Eva said. “He’s got it bad for you.”

  “Oh, come on. He does not. You saw him run out of Daisy’s Donuts.”

  Eva laughed. “Yeah, because he was in shock. That doesn’t mean he’s not still crazy about you.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s exactly what it means, Eva.”

  “Oh, really? Then why did he buy out Baby Bonanza, complete with white-glove assembly?”

  “Because he can?” Mikayla suggested. “Because that’s what rich people do? Buy what they want? Buy people?”

  “He’s not buying you. Has he asked you for anything?”

  “No. Except my advice on what to buy for the Stockton triplets for their potty-training party.”

  Eva grinned. “I was at that party this afternoon with Luke. The beds were a big hit. Good pick.”

  “Well, Mr. Jones and I lead very different lives. And no matter his reasons, buying all that stuff for me was just plain...inappropriate. He doesn’t even know me. We’ve had two conversations, each less than ten minutes.”

  And despite that, the man had wanted to make her wishes—via her wish list for her child’s nursery—come true. No one had ever done anything like that for her before, but granted, no one in her life had that kind of money to throw around. Her ex earned a high salary, but he was frugal, which had seemed sensible to Mikayla. She’d been raised that way out of need.

  She recalled the porch filled with all the items, all the things she longed to provide for her baby. For a hot second, she felt like Cinderella. But there was no such thing as Prince Charming outside of lovely fairy tales.

  “You should go give him a piece of your mind,” Eva said, wiggling her eyebrows.

  “Eva Stockton, you are a troublemaker,” Mikayla said, but she couldn’t help laughing. “I will go give him a piece of my mind. In my world, you don’t just make decisions for other people. You don’t buy out stores for people. Just because you can.”

  “Just promise me you’ll tell me every word that was said. Don’t forget anything. Make yourself remember in advance.”

  “You’re terrible,” Mikayla said, popping up. “But I love you. I’ll see you later.”

  As Mikayla headed outside to her car, she remembered her cousin Brent telling her that everyone in Rust Creek Falls was warm and friendly, at least the people he’d met when he’d come to visit Luke. Brent was right.

  But why did Mikayla have a feeling that nice wasn’t what was behind Jensen’s generosity? Something else was.

  And she had no idea what that something was.

  * * *

  When the doorbell rang for the second time since Walker and Lindsay had left for a summer evening stroll in the park, Jensen hoped it wasn’t yet another single woman dropping off “just a little something to welcome you to Rust Creek Falls—and I made it myself. Folks are so surprised that someone who looks like me is such a good cook!” Giggle. Giggle, giggle. Faux blush.

  He wasn’t exaggerating. That was exactly what the very attractive redhead had said when she’d buzzed the bell a half hour ago. She’d been carrying a foil-wrapped swordfish steak with a side of roasted potatoes.

  “I’d be happy to heat it up for you,” she’d said, sticking out one shapely skinny-jeans-covered leg.

  A little white lie had seemed in order. “I’m expecting a business call any minute. Overseas,” he’d added. “But thank you. I appreciate the welcome.”

  She did not look pleased but gave him a perfumed card with her name and contact information. “I’ll expect a call,” she’d said. Pushy.

  He’d given her a tight smile and closed the door.

  The problem was that despite his hunger—for the swordfish and a night with a gorgeous woman with long legs—he only had eyes for and interest in one woman. One completely-wrong-for-him woman with a very big belly. How on earth could he be so taken by a woman seven months pregnant? Yes, Mikayla Brown was pretty. And, despite the pregnancy, very sexy. That confused him. He liked her hair—long, silky and brown. And her eyes—also brown and smart and sparkly. She struck him as very down-to-earth, said what was on her mind. No flirting, no nonsense.

  Okay, so he liked her. He found her attractive and liked her as a human being. That was all. No big whoop, Jones. He felt much better about his bizarre reaction to Mikayla. She was just plain likable, and who wouldn’t feel...something toward a very pregnant woman? A bit protective, perhaps? It was amazing how much lighter and happier he felt now that his feelings made sense to him; sometimes they didn’t and kept him up at night.

  The doorbell rang again. He had eaten the redhead’s dinner—delicious, by the way—so maybe now it was another attractive woman with a pie or cookies. Was that wrong? To take the swordfish and rosemary potatoes and pie—he was hoping for pecan—when he had no interest in the bearer’s ulterior motive of dating a millionaire?

  As if he had any doubt why he was on the radar of the single women of Rust Creek Falls. Several years ago, he’d heard through the grapevine that a group of women in Tulsa had rated the five Jones brothers and he’d won best personality. They’d been tied for looks. So at least he knew he had something going for him besides his bank accounts.

  He peered through the peephole, a smile forming at the sight of Mikayla Brown on the porch. Here to thank him profusely, he figured. He opened the door, trying not to appear too pleased with himself.

  The look on her face was something like Who the hell do you think you are?

  “Jensen Jones, let me make myself very clear,” Mikayla said, lifting her chin and looking directly into his eyes. “I’m not a charity case. I don’t need any man, even a rich one, buying out the Baby Bonanza for me.”

  He frowned. Now wait just a minute. “Mika—”

  She held up a hand. “Jensen, I learned in the cruddiest way possible that I can’t lean on anyone. That I have to rely on myself. That hard-won wisdom took some really tough weeks to get to. I may not have a lot of money, but I’ve always taken care of myself, and I will take care of myself and my child. So thank you, but no, thank you.”

  Huh. That wasn’t the speech he expected. At all.

  “I don’t think of you as a charity case, Mikayla. I think of you as a person I met here in town who did me a favor at the Baby Bonanza—those beds were a huge hit. So, when I heard you at the cashier paying on layaway, I got the impulse to do you a favor. That’s all.”

  Her expression went from Who the hell do you think you are? to Well, I guess that was thoughtful of you, but. The early-evening breeze blew her hair toward her face, and he wanted so badly to reach out and move the silky strands, but she beat him to it, tucking her hair behind her ears. “I can’t even imagine how much that favor cost, Jensen. You know, if someone wanted to give me a realistic gift—a basic bouncer, a baby mobile—I’d happily accept and say thank you. But my entire layaway, my entire wish list? That I can’t accept from anyone but myself.”

  “My father would call that cutting off your nose to spite your face,” he said, nonetheless full of admiration for her way of thinking.

  “I am who I am,” she said with a shrug of her tanned shoulders.

  “I yam who I yam,” he said in his best Popeye imitation.

  She tilted her head and grinned and then made a face at him. “Don’t try to charm me into liking you, Jones.”

  “But I did?” he asked.

  “You charmed me into not storming off with a You can’t buy me! tossed over my shoulder.”

  “Is that what you think I was trying to do?” he asked, his smile fading.

  “Actually, I don’t think so. I mean, why would you? What are you getting? A hot tamale?” She waved her hands down her very, very, very pregnant belly. “Hot sex for a night? I can barely turn over in bed. Oh
, maybe it’s the after that you’re most interested in—the package deal of a new mother and an infant who’ll wake up all night long. Right. Sure.” She laughed and shook her head. “I know, like any reasonably intelligent person would, that you’re not trying to buy me.”

  He held her gaze, the smile gone, his tone dead serious. “I’ll be very honest here, Mikayla. I think you’re incredibly hot.”

  She gaped at him.

  “I know you’re seven months pregnant. I know there can’t be anything between us. I’m not the marrying kind. Or the daddy kind. I’m a workaholic businessman in town on a land deal that isn’t happening, and I’m not leaving till I make it happen.”

  “You always get what you want?” she asked.

  He glanced over at the fields and the Montana wilderness beyond, then back at Mikayla. “No. I don’t.”

  “Huh. Just when I expect you to be all slick and flirty, you hit me with real. Stop disarming me, Jones.”

  God, he liked this woman. His smile returned. “We met under some pretty comical circumstances—if you find that sort of thing funny, being as you’re the pregnant one—and we’re becoming friends. Right time, right place, and I bought out your wish list for you. There was nothing behind it but the want to do something nice for you. That’s it.”

  “Well, now, I believe that.” She extended her hand.

  He shook it, the feel of her soft, warm hand in his having more impact on several parts of his anatomy than he expected. One little touch could poke at his chest and his groin?

  “I can’t accept your generosity, Jensen. But it clearly came from a thoughtful place, and for that, thank you.” She lowered her hand and glanced behind him at the house. “This is some home. A luxury log cabin? It’s even grander than Maverick Manor.”

  He turned and looked at the mansion of a log cabin. Logs. Mansion. Who’d have thought? Walker, that was who. Though Hudson was the brother who’d always been a cowboy at heart, Walker was a man of the land himself. “I think that’s what Walker was going for. You should see the fireplace. The spa bathroom’s as big as the family room. A Michelin-starred chef’s dream kitchen. And all the while you feel like you’re in the woods, roughing it.”

  She gave a little snort laugh. “Well, I wouldn’t call a spa bathroom roughing it. But it sure sounds nice.”

  She smiled and started to walk away toward her car.

  No. Come back. Come in. Let me show you that fireplace. You can take a bath in that giant luxe bathroom!

  But why? So he could stare at her face and admire her lush breasts and share some decaf coffee? Nothing could happen between them. And developing a friendship with Mikayla was out of the question. He was too attracted to her. Why, he had no idea. The pregnancy should have negated the attraction, let alone his startling physical draw to her. There was something between them and he had no idea what it was. But he wasn’t looking for a future, a package deal, as she’d called it. He wasn’t interested in being a family man or settling down or trying to forget what Adrienne had taught him: that in the end, people really couldn’t be trusted with the soft parts of you.

  So he let Mikayla walk away.

  But he couldn’t leave things this way—good and fine and okay between them. He had to screw up their truce so that he could try to distance himself from the way he felt about her. Yes, that made sense. It did, right? He thought of his father, sitting at his massive cherrywood desk in his Jones Holdings corner office, yelling at one of his executive VPs. Don’t let one get you, Jensen! he heard his father bellow in his head.

  Emotional distance. Work. Those were the tenets he lived by now.

  As for Rust Creek Falls’s Jones-stealing women? Those he had to watch out for.

  Just one. Mikayla. The seven-months-pregnant beauty heading for her car.

  Whatever was in the water in this town, he’d drunk it. Jeez. He had to break the damned spell.

  “Mikayla,” he called.

  She turned around, her expression so sweet he almost didn’t say a word.

  But he had to. For his own self-preservation. To stop this. “About the cost of the stuff. It’s just money. Seriously, the entire bill affected me as much as buying a double café Americano.” For good measure, he rested his hands on his silver-and-gold diamond-encrusted belt buckle.

  As expected, her sweet expression turned into momentary shock, then disappointment, then disdain.

  Mission accomplished.

  She stared at him. Glared at him. “There’s no such thing as ‘just money’ when you have a few hundred to your name, Jensen. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  “Hell, no,” he said unnecessarily flippantly. But it was true.

  She slowly shook her head. “I guess we’re done here. I said what I came to say. I take back most of it. The part about not being able to accept your ‘generosity,’ I don’t take back.”

  Sorry, Mikayla, he thought, his gut twisting. I wish things could be different. But how? Would he wish she weren’t pregnant? Or that he was a different kind of man?

  He didn’t know. Twenty-eight years old and he didn’t know a damned thing about himself other than signing his name to deals was the only kind of commitment he could handle—and wanted.

  She stomped to her car, an ancient two-door sedan with rust on the bottom.

  His chest feeling tight and heavy, he watched her drive away until she was out of sight. Had he felt this bad when he discovered Adrienne’s betrayal? Not quite.

  And that was scary as hell.

  Chapter Five

  The next morning, Mikayla finished her mint-chocolate-chip ice cream cone—a major craving that she’d had to satisfy as the only way to appease her rotten mood—then reached into her shoulder bag and crumpled up the classified section of the free weekly newspaper.

  No, sorry was the refrain of the day from the few businesses in town that were looking for help. One look at her belly and she wasn’t even in contention for a job.

  Who was she kidding? Who would want to hire her when she’d have to take time off in just a couple months? And when she was ready to go back to work, she wouldn’t be able to afford day care—

  Day care. The light bulb went off. There was a day care in Rust Creek Falls—she’d heard someone mention it. Just Kids or something like that. She had only a couple years’ experience under her belt as a day care aide; in Cheyenne she’d been working at a day care and taking night classes in early-childhood education, but then her pregnancy and the explosion of her relationship with Scott had upended everything.

  Mikayla typed day care and Rust Creek Falls into her phone’s search bar. Just Us Kids Day Care Center. Owned and operated by Walker and Hudson Jones.

  She frowned. Oh, Lord. Did the Jones brothers own everything in town? They weren’t even from here!

  Well, at least Jensen “It’s Just Money” Jones wasn’t involved in the day care. She narrowed her eyes as his too-handsome face and amazing body slid into her mind. She never wanted to see him again. And surely Jensen wouldn’t be caught dead in a day care center.

  Forget Jensen Jones, she ordered herself. Forget what happened yesterday. Forget how hot he looked in his jeans. The way his thick blond hair fell over his forehead when he glanced down, how he ran his fingers through that sexy mass of movie-star hair. What she should remember? That they had absolutely nothing in common—including, and most important, values. Humph. Double humph!

  Mikayla closed her eyes for a moment, trying to focus on the fresh morning breeze and the feel of the sun on her face. She didn’t need to be upset over some out-of-touch-with-the-real-world Hemsworth; she needed a job. She needed to be self-sufficient. And she needed Just Us Kids to hire her, even though at this point, Jensen might put in a bad word for her with his brothers.

  Except he wouldn’t. She knew that. He might be Mr. Clueless Moneybags, b
ut kindness ran under that hard, sexy chest of his. If she told him she needed a job and had childcare experience, he’d probably fly her across town in his private jet to the day care, interrupt everything and demand she be given a job on the spot. She smiled at the thought, then slapped herself upside the head for letting him charm her in absentia. What the hell was wrong with her?

  Now she was reading a man she barely knew? Hadn’t he told her exactly who he was with his parting shot last night? It’s just money...

  She would not call Jensen Jones. She’d get the job on her own. She had friends who could vouch for her. Eva and Luke and Amy. And she had a decent résumé when it came to working with children. Aside from the day care, she’d always made extra money babysitting kids of all ages.

  Perhaps Just Us Kids would allow her to start now and then bring her newborn to work? She doubted she could afford to pay the monthly tuition out of her salary, but perhaps they could work out an arrangement or maybe employees who enrolled their children got discounts? She’d never know if she didn’t ask.

  To make this fresh start work in Rust Creek Falls, she needed a job. Once she had some paychecks tucked away, she could get her own place and provide a home for her child.

  She glanced at her phone again. The day care was just a few blocks from here. Mikayla lifted her chin, took a deep breath, smoothed her not-exactly-professional midi sundress, whipped out her mirrored compact to make sure she didn’t have ice cream or cone remnants on her chin or in her teeth and then headed up the street and made a left.

  There it was. Just Us Kids. Go get ’em, she told herself.

  A sign on the front door of the one-story building read Please Press Buzzer and Await Staff Member to Allow Entry. Couldn’t be too careful, she thought, nodding at the sign. She pressed, noting that a woman sat at a desk in a small lobby area, typing away at a computer.

  The woman glanced up; Mikayla recognized her from Luke’s bachelor party. It was Bella Stockton Jones, Hudson’s wife. Her brother Jamie was the father of the triplets for whom Jensen had bought the toddler beds. Bella smiled and waved and opened the door.