by Meg Maxwell
Autry smiled. “And when you press its tummy, the stars on his belly glow in the dark.” He remembered Marissa mentioning at the picnic that Kaylee often woke up in the middle of the night. Maybe the glowing monkey would help soothe her back to sleep. And her mom could get a better night’s rest.
A chorus of thank-yous from the girls had him smiling. “You’re welcome.”
“You didn’t have to get them gifts,” Marissa said. “But that was very kind. Thank you.”
“It was my pleasure,” he said.
“Autry, this is my mother, Roberta Rafferty. Mom, Autry Jones.”
The older woman standing beside Marissa did not look particularly happy, but she had a pleasant enough smile on her face. She looked a lot like Marissa. “Very nice to meet you.”
“And this gentleman here is my father, Ralph Rafferty,” Marissa said.
Her father shook Autry’s hand and positively beamed. “It’s an absolute pleasure to meet you, Autry. It’s like meeting a celebrity. I read the business pages of the newspapers and often hear about the interesting deals and investments Jones Holdings, Inc. is involved in. I hear you’re headed to Paris next—I read about the Thorpe Corporation negotiations.”
“Hopefully all will go smoothly,” Autry said. “It’ll be one of our biggest deals.” As he talked business with Ralph Rafferty for a bit, he couldn’t help noticing that Marissa’s mother seemed even more uneasy. “I’d better get this bag of groceries into the kitchen. Warm day today.”
He picked up the brown bag and pulled out a bouquet of yellow tulips. “And just a little something for the lady of the house,” he said, handing them to Marissa.
“Lovely,” she said. “Thank you.”
Marissa’s father ushered the way into the kitchen, and Autry set down the bag. He could see the grill on the patio through the sliding glass door.
“I’ll help Autry,” Marissa said to her parents. “You two go relax.”
“Dinner in one hour,” Autry called. He pulled steaks, potatoes, asparagus, a small bottle of olive oil and a bulb of garlic from the bag. “All I need is the salt and pepper.”
She brought over the salt and pepper shakers. “Do you always make this grand of an entrance?”
“I’ll be very honest here, Marissa. I do when I want to. I have the means, and right now, I have the time. So I went shopping.”
“But you couldn’t have gotten those gifts in Rust Creek Falls,” she said. “We don’t have a toy store. And Crawford’s General Store doesn’t sell those items you bought.”
“Like I said, I have the time. Plus, driving to Kalispell gave me a chance to sightsee a little.”
“And what do you think of the area?” she asked.
“It’s beautiful,” he said, seasoning the steaks. “Gorgeous open country. You can think out here. There aren’t a million distractions. Just fresh air, nature, land, sky. I could have driven around for days.”
She smiled then picked up the potatoes. “I like to brush the potato skins with olive oil before grilling them.”
“Me, too,” he said. While she put back the salt and pepper shakers, he stole a good long look at her. Tonight she wore a light blue tank top with ruffles along the neckline and a white denim skirt and flat silver sandals. Her hair was in a low ponytail, showing off her long, lovely neck. She was so beautiful and very likely had no idea. The only jewelry she wore was a silver watch on one wrist and a macramé bracelet that one of her daughters likely made on the other.
They headed out to the grill with the potatoes, to get those going, since they’d take the most time. Then they sat on the low stone wall separating the patio from the yard. He couldn’t stop looking at Marissa’s long, tanned legs.
The girls burst into the yard, Marissa’s parents behind them. He pulled his attention from Marissa to the five people now crowding around them.
“Play it again, Abby!” Kiera said, twisting her little body into some kind of strange pose.
Abby turned the prong on the bottom of the snow globe and the 2LOVEU song filled the backyard. She set it down and all three girls started dancing.
“I like how they dance without moving their feet,” Autry whispered to the grown-ups.
Marissa laughed. “That’s how it is now. It’s all about the arms.”
He was about to ask Marissa if she’d like to dance, but again he felt the weight of Roberta Rafferty’s presence, her...disapproval, if that was the right word. Not of him, necessarily, but of them: him and Marissa. Millionaire Playboy Courting Single Mom of Three Who Lives with Her Folks. It did seem an unlikely headline. But he wasn’t courting Marissa. He was going to be her friend—a friend of the family. And a good one. The Fuller-Raffertys had been through so much and if he could ease their burden and bring smiles, why not?
Except Marissa’s mother wasn’t smiling. She looked worried.
Because she probably thinks you’re going to crush her daughter’s heart and leave her kids asking what happened to Mommy’s nice, generous boyfriend.
God, he was an idiot. Of course. He had to be careful here. He and Marissa had an understanding—a strings-free friendship—but her children were young and impressionable. He needed to take care with their feelings and expectations. No wonder Marissa had commented on the “grand entrance.” He’d come to town with housewarming gifts for his brothers and sisters-in-law, a few toys each for Hudson’s nephews and niece, and even some things for Just Us Kids. Five long, colorful beanbags that contorted into chairs and little beds, which had arrived yesterday. It was natural for Autry to come bearing gifts. He wasn’t throwing his money around; he just enjoyed giving.
As the crew decided to play charades in the yard, Autry finally put the steaks on the grill. He couldn’t help laughing at the kids’ antics. And the way their grandparents accommodated their various ages, making each feel understood, smart and special, was something to behold. He could see Marissa’s love for her daughters in her face, in her actions, in her words, and he hoped this family knew how lucky they were. They’d had their share of sorrow, but what they had here was priceless. And Autry knew it. Growing up, Autry’s family life revolved around competition. Not love.
Fifteen minutes later, he announced it was chow time, and everyone sat around the big round table under the umbrella, digging into their steaks and baked potatoes and asparagus.
“Who wants to share first?” Marissa asked, looking around the table.
Autry raised his eyebrow and Marissa explained that it was family tradition at dinner for everyone to share something about their day—something that made them happy or sad, made them laugh or cry.
The Jones family had never done anything like that. In fact, they’d rarely eaten dinner together. His father had seldom been home, spending most of his time either at the office or traveling. His mother was on every board and charity imaginable. And his brothers had various team sports and clubs, so it wasn’t often anyone was home at the same time. The family housekeeper and cook always had individual portions for any of them to heat up. But Autry had become a regular at his favorite pizzeria in Tulsa. The same-age teenager who worked behind the counter had become a close friend.
“Me!” Kaylee said, raising her hand. “I saw a butterfly. It was white. But I couldn’t catch it. So I was happy and sad.”
Roberta smiled. “I love butterflies. I’ll share that I came home from having lunch with an old friend to find my dear husband reading Jack and the Beanstalk to his granddaughters, who were all curled around him on the couch. That made me very happy.”
“Hey, that was my share,” Ralph mock-complained.
“What about you, Mom?” Abby asked. “What’s your share today?”
“I’ll share that it’s nice to make a new friend,” Marissa said carefully, looking at her daughters. Then she smiled at Autry.
“I made a new friend, too,” Kiera said. “A beagle named Maddy. When Grandpa took us to Crawford’s today for ice cream after lunch, Maddy was outside. I asked if I could pet her and the lady said yes.”
“I pet the dog, too,” Kaylee said, beaming.
“Your turn, Autry,” Abby said.
All eyes swung to Mr. Jones.
“I’ll share that it’s really, really, really nice to be here with all of you,” he said. “You’re a great family.”
That even got a genuine smile out of Roberta Rafferty.
“Want to know my share?” Abby asked. “This,” she said, taking her musical snow globe from her lap and placing it next to her plate. “I love this so much I could totally burst.”
Autry smiled. “I’m glad.”
With all the sharing done, the group dug in again, eating, chatting, laughing. Why had Autry thought spending time with this family would be difficult? It wasn’t. Kaylee, Kiera and Abby were fun to be around. They didn’t remind him of what had happened with Lulu and Karinna, but then again, they weren’t babies. And he wasn’t romantically involved with Marissa. As long as he kept a reasonable emotional distance and didn’t cross a line, he could enjoy Marissa’s company and share in her life for the next few weeks. If he could bring a smile to the family, all the better.
But as plates were cleared and a delicious-looking chocolate cake was brought out, Autry realized he could stay here all night, quite happily. Despite being asked four times in the past twenty minutes by Kaylee why his shirt was blue. Despite having Kiera tell him a very long story about how beagles have three colors and how her grandpa helped her do research on beagles online after meeting Maddy. Despite listening to Abby talk about the lead singer of a boy band, a “totally dreamy Lyle,” who had dimples and the greenest eyes ever and did Autry know that Lyle’s favorite food was cheeseburgers and how, according to Kidz Now magazine, Lyle couldn’t decide between ice cream or cupcakes as his favorite dessert.
It was a novelty, that was all, Autry realized. He’d avoided single mothers for a while now, so this kind of get-together was new and fun. Ah. Now that it made sense, Autry relaxed. Of course. He liked novelty. It was why he enjoyed his job so much. Flying to new and different destinations a couple times a month. Brushing up on foreign languages and learning about different cultures. He loved it. And the Fuller-Rafferty family was as different a culture as Autry could get.
“Well,” Ralph said, looking at his granddaughters. “Since Mr. Autry was kind enough to make this amazing dinner, let’s go into the kitchen and clean up.”
There were groans of “Can’t we stay out here with Mr. Autry?” But the girls dutifully followed their grandparents inside.
“Thanks for all this,” Marissa said. “You made them feel special.”
“Good,” he said.
“And potentially not so good. Come September, you’ll be long gone. But they’ll still be here, living in this house, living the same lives. Maybe it’s better that you don’t set up too many expectations. So no more gifts, okay? You’re Mommy’s new friend and they’re not used to my friends bringing over presents except for the occasional bagels and cream cheese on Sunday mornings.”
“Understood,” he said. “I’m not used to wanting to kiss my friends.” And, man, did he want to kiss her.
She stared at him, biting her lip. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that.
“Me, too,” she said.
But kissing was out. Even if they’d sort of okayed it, okayed a “let’s see” with no strings, no expectations. There were always expectations of some kind or another.
“Are those your initials?” he asked, gesturing at the big oak tree at the end of the yard.
She glanced at the tree, at the two sets of initials carved into a heart—MR+MF—and if Autry wasn’t mistaken, a mix of sadness and relief crossed her pretty face. “We carved that with a key when I was sixteen.” Sadness that Mike Fuller was gone, he guessed. Relief that the reminder of MR and MF took her away from this “whatever” with the man standing beside her. Him.
Autry headed over, touching the initials. “You have such an amazing sense of history and family here,” he said.
She tilted her head at him, and he got the feeling she was surprised by his high regard for family, despite what he’d told her about his own. She took his hand and led him around the big tree, then pointed at a spot on the ground. “I tried to climb this tree when I was five, but fell out and broke my ankle. Twenty-some years later, Kiera made the attempt and sprained her foot. We’re keeping it off-limits to Kaylee.”
Marissa needed a hug, he thought. But the way she was looking at him, right into his eyes, he knew she wanted more than a hug. She wanted the man she was interested in to pull her close and kiss her, hold her tight. He could be wrong, but he’d bet his Tulsa condo on it.
He stepped closer, reaching a hand to her face, and tried to read what he saw in her expression. Desire. Conflict of interest. Exactly what had to be in his.
With the big old oak shielding them from view, he stepped even closer and kissed her—warm, soft, tingling. He could smell her shampoo. His lips opened slightly as she deepened the kiss, and it was all he could do not to lay her down on the grass and explore every inch of her.
At the sound of the sliding glass door opening, they each took a step back. “Until next time,” he said.
“Should there be a next time?” Marissa asked.
“Probably not. But I hope there will be.”
“Me, too,” she whispered.
* * *
Later that night, after a long hot shower and a relaxing drink in his room, Autry called his father. He wished the Jones family could be different. That they could be close. That they could share what was going on in their lives—and not just whatever was related to business. Talk, vacation together, be...a family.
“Glad you called, Autry,” Walker the Second said. “I was about to call you, actually. Convinced those two brothers of yours to move back home? Surely their wives would prefer a city like Tulsa over some backward small town. Not a high-end shop in the entire downtown. Your mother can’t even imagine where they buy their clothes. Online, she figured. Did you know Rust Creek Falls doesn’t even show up on a map of Montana?”
Well, the bad news was that his father was still focused on Autry convincing his brothers to move back to Tulsa. The good news? Walker the Second sure was chatty. That meant he was in a good mood and might be open to new ideas. Like that Autry’s brothers were happy here.
“Dad, Walker and Hudson love it here. Lindsay and Bella love it here. They both have deep family ties in Rust Creek Falls.”
“Well, Walker and Hudson have deep family ties in Tulsa. Where they belong.”
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen Walker so relaxed,” Autry said, taking a sip of his Scotch.
“A relaxed Walker means a relaxed CEO,” his father snapped. “And a relaxed CEO is the last thing any corporation needs.”
“Jones Holdings is up this quarter,” Autry reminded his father. “He’s doing something right. From Rust Creek Falls.”
“Well, while you’re there, talk up Tulsa with the wives. I’ll even throw in a moving-home bonus—a world cruise for the four of them. Surely anyone could run the day care.”
“They’re very emotionally invested in Just Us Kids. The whole franchise,” Autry said. Last night, Walker had told him how much it meant to him that kids had a safe, happy place to go while their parents worked, a place where loving, supportive caregivers and teachers met their needs. Autry had stared at him in astonishment, again amazed by the change in his eldest brother. We were rich and had bored nannies who ignored us, Walker had reminded him. I want every kid who attends a Just Us Kids Day Care to feel happy and loved when they’re in our care. Autry tried explaining this to his dad.
; He could just see his father, waving dismissively and groaning in his home library, where he liked to take family calls. “Look, Autry. A good business model has to account for what makes the company work. Cared-for kids is the point. I get it. But for God’s sake, what the hell is Jones Holdings doing in the day care business? Rhetorical question at this point—I’ve had this conversation with Hudson and Walker for over a year and the answer never makes sense to me. Sure, it’s profitable as a franchise. But it doesn’t fit with our corporate profile. I dare say, it’s almost a little embarrassing.”
And Autry “dared say” that his father was a lost cause. But he wouldn’t. Because he didn’t believe it. Right now, the man was going through a shock to the system. Granted, it had been months since the “defection” of Walker and Hudson. He’d had plenty of time to adjust but still thought his sons would “come around.”
They wouldn’t. Autry had been in Rust Creek Falls a few days and could see that. This was home to Walker and Hudson. In every sense of the word.
“At least I don’t have to worry about you, Autry,” his dad said. “Can you imagine yourself falling for some local gal and settling down there?” His father snorted. “Ah, your mother is holding up her phone to show me the time—we have a benefit tonight. Look, Autry, I appreciate your trying to talk some sense into Walker and Hudson, but with you as president, traveling the globe, I know Jones Holdings won’t lose its edge.”
I have fallen for “some local gal,” he wanted to say. But settling down here? That, he couldn’t imagine. “Dad, it’s pretty great here. I can see why Hudson and Walker moved to Rust Creek Falls. It’s a special town and the people are friendly and welcoming. It’s the kind of place that feels like home.”
“Oh, good Lord,” Walker the Second said. “You’ve got to be kidding me. Maybe I do have to worry about you now.”
His father had nothing to worry about where Autry was concerned, but he didn’t bother saying so. Walker Jones the Second wasn’t really listening; he was talking. And what the person on the receiving end had to say didn’t matter.
