He looked around everywhere but didn’t see her. And let’s face it—she was hard to miss.
The Stocktons were standing near the huge grill—Daniel and his wife, Annie. Jamie and his wife, Fallon, and the triplet potty-training champs, and his sister-in-law Bella, happily married to his brother Hudson, who was deep in conversation with Walker over by the stables. Hopefully they weren’t talking business on a Saturday at a barbecue, but they probably were. Hadn’t Jensen himself been dealing with business all morning? Working for Jones Holdings Inc. was a 24-7 job.
Jensen shook his head. He’d have to do something about that.
Beer in hand, he walked around the property, admiring the big yellow barn and the sturdy farmhouse. He wondered which windows were Mikayla’s. Maybe she was inside?
No. She wasn’t. She was right there, thanking Luke, on grill duty, for the hamburger he’d just given her. He watched her squirt ketchup and mustard and heap relish and tomatoes on the burger, then add a sour pickle spear.
He headed over for a burger of his own, then quickly caught up to her at the drinks table for a sweet iced tea.
“I get to have a celebratory lunch with you after all,” he said with a smile.
She whirled around. “Jensen. I didn’t know you were coming.”
How did she always look so pretty? She wore a pink tank top and a floaty white cotton skirt down to her calves and those sexy wrap-around-the-ankle sandals. Her silky brown hair cascaded around her sun-kissed shoulders. And if he wasn’t mistaken, she looked even more pregnant.
“I make friends wherever I go,” he said, adding ice cubes to his drink. Eyes off the belly, he ordered himself. “I’m always invited to parties.”
She laughed. “Is that true?”
“No. More like I looked so miserable dealing with thirteen business emails at Daisy’s on a Saturday morning that Eva felt sorry for me and invited me.”
She laughed again, the beautiful sound reaching right inside him.
“And it’s a good thing you didn’t see me bomb with the preschool set at Just Us Kids the other day,” he said. “I actually made a little kid cry.”
“Aw, you probably just haven’t spent much time with kids. Am I right?”
“You’re right. I’ve never dated anyone with kids. And my brother Autry’s girls are in Paris, so I don’t get to spend much time with children.”
“The key with talking to kids is to just be real,” she said.
“I think that’s what got me into trouble.”
She laughed again, and he loved making her happy. Why, he didn’t know. “Oh, those two seats just opened up,” she said, upping her chin across the lawn. “Let’s grab ’em before someone beats us to them.”
His heart pinged. She was actually inviting him to sit with her. That was a good sign. That she didn’t hate his guts anymore.
“I thought pregnant women got seats everywhere they went. Isn’t that Life 101?” he asked as he followed her, hoping that the constant trail of little kids racing around didn’t end with his hamburger or drink toppling over on someone’s head.
“Here in Rust Creek Falls? Definitely. Back home in Cheyenne? I stood for a half hour on a very slow, very un-air-conditioned bus to work one ninety-two-degree day when my car conked out.”
He hated the thought of Mikayla so uncomfortable. Relying on a cruddy car. Standing for a half hour on a sweltering bus when no one gave her a seat. “I would have gotten up for you in a heartbeat.”
Oh, Lord. He’d said that in a much more serious way than he’d meant to.
She sat down. “I’m sure you would have, Jensen.”
He put his cup on the grass in front of his chair and sat beside her, so close he could smell her shampoo. Green apple, he was pretty sure. “So how’d a Cheyenne girl end up in a tiny Montana town? You have family here?”
She took a bite of her loaded burger, and he had the feeling she was happy not to have to answer right away. “I don’t have much family anywhere. I have a cousin I love to death—Brent—who’s on the rodeo circuit right now. It was his suggestion I move here. Luke used to work on a ranch in Wyoming with Brent, so when I was looking for a fresh start, Brent made a call and voilà, I’m now living at Sunshine Farm.”
He watched her face light up as she looked around the property. She clearly liked it here.
“Every night, just looking out my bedroom window at all this open land, all this fresh air, those gorgeous woods in the distance makes me feel so hopeful. Instead of feeling closed in like I did in Cheyenne, these endless fields and stretches of blue sky make me feel like anything can happen. Like the world is full of possibilities.” She glanced at him as though she’d forgotten she was actually talking to someone. She bit her lip. “I sound crazy, probably.”
He took a drink of his iced tea. “Not at all. I know exactly what you mean. I feel like I can really think here.”
She nodded. “Exactly. But you’re leaving soon?”
“If I ever get this land deal settled. For the first time ever, I might be licked. By a seventysomething more stubborn than my own father. I never thought I’d meet anyone who could hold a candle to Walker Jones the Second in that regard.”
She smiled. “I have a confession. When I was taking a tour of Just Us Kids the other day, I did catch the tail end of a conversation you were having with your brothers. Something about a crisis distribution center you want to build on that land?”
He nodded and told her all about Davison Parkwell and his volunteer work, how much the crisis center would mean to the man who’d been like a second father to him. “I guess if I can’t get the land, I’ll have to find a new location. I just hope it doesn’t come to that. Davison loved this part of Montana, and given how many of my brothers have ties to Rust Creek Falls, the site feels right here,” he added, touching the left side of his chest.
She tilted her head and seemed to be taking that in. “What’s keeping him from selling?” she asked, taking a bite of her pickle spear.
Damned if he knew. “No idea. The land is going unused, his house is falling apart and he has no family in town. I don’t get it. Why doesn’t he take the money and run? He could spend his senior days in luxury somewhere warm with a shuffleboard court.”
“My grandmother loved Wyoming winters and hated shuffleboard, so you never know,” she said. “But something is making Barnes stubborn about keeping the land. Find out what and that’s your ticket.”
“Or just the reason for the door being slammed in my face with every higher offer,” he pointed out.
“Yes, but maybe if you knew why, your negotiation would have somewhere to go other than nowhere.”
“You sure you don’t have an MBA?” he asked. “Because you’re absolutely right. I have to find out why he won’t sell.”
“You could ask around,” she said. “Find out what makes him tick.”
Guthrie Barnes? Never heard of him. Who? Those had been the usual responses he’d gotten to his queries around town about the man. Barnes had lived in Rust Creek Falls for over fifty years, almost his entire adult life. How could he be so invisible?
Jensen frowned. “I tried that but didn’t get very far. But I’ll keep digging.”
“Never give up—that has to be everybody’s motto.”
He almost wished she hadn’t said that. Because there was no way he was giving up on his attraction to her, which went far beyond the physical. He could sit here and talk to her for hours. He wanted to hear her opinion on everything.
“Have faith,” she said, touching his hand, and again, every cell in his body reacted to that small point of contact. He never wanted her to move her hand from his, but she did, unfortunately.
What the hell was happening here?
How could he be so enamored with this woman? She wasn’t a no-strings candidate. She was going to have a baby in two
months!
That funny feeling came over him, the one that made his head pound and his gut tighten. The one that made him say stupid things to change the subject.
“So is the baby’s father in the picture?” he asked before he could stop himself.
He felt her stiffen beside him. She picked up her iced tea and took a long sip, then spent a good half minute putting it down on the grass in front of her chair.
Idiot, he chastised himself with a virtual palm slam to his forehead. Why had he asked that? As if he didn’t know why—to squash the too-real conversation they’d been having.
“Can’t cath me!” a pint-size guest shouted, taking off toward the pastures with a pie in his hands. It was one of his brother’s nephews. Henry or Jared. They looked a lot alike.
“Cath?” Jensen repeated.
“It’s toddler for catch,” Mikayla said, shaking her head. “Duh.”
Did she just “duh” him?
She smiled and then elbowed him in the ribs. “Let’s go try to catch the little thief before he ends up falling face-first into all that apple goodness.”
Jensen jumped up and they ran after the tyke. “Did I mention I was all state on the cross-country team in high school and college?”
“Then why is a two-year-old faster than you are?” she asked with a grin.
“Um, maybe because I’m trying to stay paced with a woman who could have a baby any day?”
“Touché,” she said. “But more like any month.”
He smiled at her. Mikayla Brown, he was learning, would not let him get away with anything. He liked that.
“Oh, no, Henry’s heading straight for that tree!” someone shouted.
“I’m on it,” Jensen said and pulled ahead, putting his old training days and current running regimen to good use.
“Thought you said no one could catch you, Henry!” he said in as baby friendly a voice as he could manage, passing the boy and then slowly jogging backward in front of him.
“You didn’t cath me,” Henry said with a look of triumph, making a break to the left.
“Oh, so we’re playing tag?” Jensen asked. “Why didn’t you say so?”
Jensen pretended not to be able to catch the kid, then finally leaned over, exaggerating being out of breath, and touched his shoulder. “Tag, you’re it!”
The boy started laughing. “I’m it!”
Jensen jogged slowly back toward the crowd. “You’ll never catch me!” he said, grinning.
“Will too!” Henry shouted, his face full of gleeful concentration.
Just as Henry was in grabbing distance to his father, Jensen slowed enough for the boy to tag him.
“Tag! You’re it!” Henry shouted with a huge smile.
“Aw, you got me!” Jensen said. “You were too fast for me. I can’t move a muscle.”
“I win!” Henry said. “Daddy, I winned the game!”
“Yay!” Jamie Stockton said, high-fiving his son. Jamie’s wife, Fallon, took the pie and set it back on the dessert buffet, dragging her arm across her forehead with a “Phew.”
“How did he manage not to drop the pie?” Mikayla asked.
“Christmas miracle in August?” Jensen suggested with a shrug.
She laughed. “I thought you said you were terrible with kids and made them cry. Seems like you made Henry’s day. And saved the pie!”
Huh. He guessed he hadn’t done half-bad this time.
“Must be your influence rubbing off on me,” he said.
“You always know what to say, don’t you?” She shook her head with a smile and they headed back to their seats.
“Hardly,” he said, taking the last two bites of his cheeseburger. “Or I wouldn’t have awkwardly asked you about the father of your baby.” He let his head drop backward with a sigh. “Or just reminded you of that fact.”
She smiled and took a bite of her own burger. “Nothing wrong with asking. I always like dealing with the elephant in the room—or however that saying goes. You know?”
He nodded. “Except it’s none of my business.”
She reached up and placed her hand on the side of his face, then kissed him—right on the lips. And not a friendly kiss. A kiss kiss. A romantic kiss. An invitation-to-something kiss.
But what, exactly?
* * *
Whoa. One moment Mikayla was finishing her burger, craving another pickle spear, and the next she was planting a kiss on Jensen’s soft, warm, inviting mouth.
Had she really done that? She had. The look of half shock, half very pleased on his handsome face told her so. What the hell had she been thinking? He’d exasperated her just minutes ago! Then he’d gone and gently and sweetly caught little Henry Stockton, saving the day and the pie in an adorable way.
Why couldn’t he be as bad with kids as he’d said he was? At least then she could cross him off her list of potential love interests. There was only one name on that list, a name that shouldn’t be there, anyway.
No worries, she assured herself. His interest in her wasn’t real. He found her attractive, probably because, like Eva and Amy had said, she was one of those annoying pregnant women who only carried the added weight in her belly. But two months from now when she was nine months pregnant and as big as his family’s mansion in Tulsa, he’d be flying back in a heartbeat. If not way before. Come on. She was clearly some kind of a challenge for him. How many pregnant women had he tried to pick up and romance for a fling? Probably none before her.
Independence had to be her goal. Men were simply not a good bet for a woman in her condition. And Jensen Jones had to be in some serious denial. The minute she went into labor, he’d run for the door the way he had in Daisy’s Donuts.
But instead of telling him she should go mingle and running for the hills herself, she’d kissed him.
She dared a glance at him. “Uh, I don’t know why I did that.”
“I do,” he said.
She looked at him, eyes narrowed. “Why?”
“You find me incredibly attractive and that, combined with our undeniable chemistry, made you unable to resist me.” He was dead serious. No flirtation or megawatt smile accompanied that bit of overconfident male nerve.
She raised an eyebrow. “Oh, is that why?” Yes, actually, it was exactly why.
“Give me one other reason, Mikayla.”
“I’m hormonal,” she said, hoping he’d believe it. She was hormonal.
“You could have kissed that guy,” he said, pointing at a tall cowboy. “Or him,” he added, gesturing at a blond surfer type. “Instead, you kissed me.”
“Well, it’s not like I’m going to do it again!” she whispered, praying no one saw or was listening to this crazy conversation.
“I hope you do,” he said. Too seriously. While looking her right in the eyes.
“Why? To what end, Jensen Jones? What is the point in us kissing or getting to know each other?”
“For one, we like each other. You have to admit you like me, even though I’m filthy rich and enjoy throwing my money around.”
“Okay, fine. I like you. Even though you’re rich and make it obvious.”
He grinned. “And then there’s the chemistry.”
“I guess,” she said, wishing it weren’t true.
“And finally, we’re both single. We should be enjoying each other’s company. Whatever that may mean.”
“What does it mean?” she asked. Although she had a pretty good idea.
“In two months, you’re going to be too busy to give me a passing thought. And I’m going to be back in Tulsa anyway. Right now, though, we’re both available. We like each other. We want to kiss each other. So let’s do it. God, Mikayla, I just want to spoil you rotten. Let me.”
Was he completely insane? “You’re talking about an agreed-upon fling. With a very
pregnant woman. Seriously?”
“Serious as a hurricane.” He tilted his head and a sly smile curved those lips. “Aha. You’re thinking about it.”
Lord. Was she? She was. Maybe? Could it hurt? Her last hurrah before giving her time and attention to motherhood?
“I’m thinking about it,” she said, mentally shaking her head. Was she nuts? “I need to sleep on it.” She glanced toward the yellow barn, where bunches of people were heading to say goodbye to Luke and Eva. “Looks like the party is winding down.”
“Guess it’s time for me to go,” he said, standing up and collecting their paper plates and cups, which surprised her. Why couldn’t he act all entitled so she’d lean toward no on his crazy proposal? “I’ll drop by tomorrow morning for your answer.”
“What if I’m not sure tomorrow morning?” she asked.
Again, his gorgeous blue eyes were intense on her. “I think you will be, either way.”
“What if my answer is ‘no way’?”
“Then like the song says, I’ll have to bow out gracefully.”
Huh. She had no idea what song he was talking about, but she hadn’t expected him to agree to bow out. To walk away. To leave her alone. Did she want that? “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow morning, then.”
She watched him take their plates and cups to the garbage can, then head over to where Luke and Eva stood with Luke’s sister. He shook their hands, then looked back at her and held up a hand in farewell, and she wanted to run to him and just be held by him and never let him go.
Which meant that tomorrow morning, her answer had to be no. Right?
Chapter Seven
At nine fifteen that night, Jensen and his brothers were finishing up a late dinner at Maverick Manor. They’d covered business, including some potential investment properties in Montana, and had figured out the basics for their parents’ surprise anniversary party.
“The real surprise,” Hudson said, taking the last bite of his pasta, “is whether Mom and Dad will show.”
Jensen finished his beer. “I’ve got that covered. They’ll show.”
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