Maverick Vs. Maverick

Had she just said that out loud? Good Lord.

Lani arched a brow. “Handsome?”

“I meant attractive.” Oh, God, that wasn’t any better. Lindsay scrambled to come up with a way to describe Walker Jones that didn’t make it sound like she personally found him sexy. Because she didn’t. At all. Even if he had filled out his navy pin-striped suit like a model for Brooks Brothers. He was the enemy, and even handsome men could be irresponsible business owners. “In a distracting kind of way. He might...sway the judge.”

Lani chuckled. “Judge Andrews? Isn’t he like, a hundred?”

“Well, yeah, but...” Lindsay drained her wine and held her glass out to her sister. “Can I get a refill?”

“Is that your way of changing the subject?” Lani took the glass and topped it off.

“Yes. No.” She paused. She’d been disconcerted by meeting Walker Jones, and Lindsay didn’t get disconcerted easily. “Maybe.”

“Well, unfortunately, I don’t think you’re going to be able to do that,” Lani said as she slid the glass back to her sister.

“Come on, don’t tell me you’re going to ask me a million questions about this guy. Frankly, I’d like to forget all about Walker Jones until I have to see him in court next week.”

“I think it’s going to be impossible for you to do that.” Lani leaned across the bar and a tease lit her features. “Considering he just walked in. Or at least, a man who looks like a hot, sexy owner of a day care chain just walked in.”

Lindsay spun on her stool and nearly choked on her sip of wine. Walker Jones III had indeed just walked into the Ace in the Hole, still wearing his overcoat and suit from court, and looking like a man ready to take over enemy territory. “What is he doing here?”

“Probably getting a drink like the rest of Rust Creek Falls,” Lani said. “There’s not a lot of options in this town.”

“Why is he even still here? Why not stay in Kalispell, or better yet, why can’t he go back to his coffin?”

“Coffin?”

“Only vampires are that handsome and ruthless.”

Lani chuckled. She shifted to the center of the bar as Walker approached. “Welcome to the Ace in the Hole. What can I get you?”

“Woodford Reserve, on the rocks.” He leaned one elbow on the bar, then shifted to his right.

“We don’t have that,” Lani said. “What we do have is a whole lot of beer.”

Walker sighed. “Then your best craft beer.”

“Coming right up.”

Lindsay should have slipped off her stool and left before he noticed her, but she’d been so stunned at the sight of Walker in the Ace that she had stayed where she was, as if her butt had grown roots. Now she tried to take a casual sip of her wine, as if she didn’t even see him.

Except her heart was racing, and all she could see out of the corner of her eye was him. Six feet tall—her favorite height in a man, but who was noticing that—with dirty blond hair and blue eyes, Walker Jones had a way of commanding the space where he stood.

She needed to remember that his irresponsible ownership of the day care center was what had made Georgina and lots of other children ill. What if that had been the Stockton triplets? Those motherless newborns who’d needed a whole chain of volunteers to help care for them? The RSV outbreak could have had much more dire consequences—something that Walker might be trying to overlook but that she refused to ignore.

“Counselor,” he said with a little nod.

“Mr. Jones. Nice to see you again.” The conventional greeting rolled off her tongue before she could recall it. Some kind of masochistic automatic response. It wasn’t nice to see him again. Not one bit.

Lani smirked as she placed a beer in front of Walker. “Here you go. Want me to run a tab?”

“Thank you, and yes, please do. I think I’ll stay a bit.” He sent the last remark in Lindsay’s direction.

She still had a nearly full glass of wine, but no way was she going to sit at the bar next to him. Lindsay fished in her pocket and handed her sister some bills. “Thanks, Lani. I’ll see you around.”

As Lindsay went to leave, Walker placed a hand on her arm. A momentary touch, nothing more, but it seemed to sear her skin. “Don’t go because I’m here. Surely we can coexist in a bar full of people.” He looked around. “Or rather, a bar full of eleven people.”

“Are you always this exact?”

“Are you always this hard to make friends with?”

She scowled. He was making it seem like this was all her fault. “We don’t need to be friends. We’re on opposing sides.”

“In the courtroom. Outside of that, we can at least be civil, can’t we?”

“Well, of course we can be civil.” Damn it. Somehow he’d turned her whole argument around. Geesh. Maybe he should have been the lawyer.

“That’s all I’m asking. So stay.” He gestured toward her bar stool. “And pretend I don’t exist.”

“My pleasure.”

That made him laugh. He had a nice laugh, dark and rich like a great cup of coffee in the morning. “You are not what I expected, Ms. Dalton.”

“And you are not what I expected.” She fiddled with the stem of her wineglass. “Frankly, I was expecting your father.”

“Sorry to disappoint you.” He grinned. “I’ll try not to do that again.”

She almost said, “Oh, I wasn’t disappointed,” but caught herself. Good Lord, what was it with this man? Was it his eyes? The way they held her gaze and made her, for just a moment, feel like the most important person in the room? Was it the way he’d touched her, his muscled hand seeming to leave an indelible impression? Or was it the way he spoke, in that deep, confident voice, that a part of her imagined him whispering to her in the dark?

He was the enemy. An evil, irresponsible man who only cared about making a buck. Except nothing about his demeanor matched that description. Maybe he was one of those distracted, charming millionaires who didn’t care where his money came from as long as it ended up in his bank account.

Still...he seemed nice. Friendly, even. How could that be the same man who ran a shoddy day care chain?

“And with that,” Walker said, picking up his beer and giving her a little nod, “I think I shall leave you to your wine. Have a good evening, Ms. Dalton.”

He crossed the room, and took a seat at one of the empty tables, draping his coat over a second chair. When a group of twenty-something girls came into the bar, ushering in the cool evening air and a whole bunch of laughter, Lindsay’s view of Walker was blocked, but that didn’t stop her traitorous mind from wondering what he’d meant by I’ll try not to do that again.

Because she had a feeling Walker Jones was the kind of man who rarely left a woman disappointed. In any way.

Chapter Two

Walker didn’t know why he’d stayed. Or why he lingered over his beer. Or why his gaze kept straying to Lindsay Dalton.

He told himself it was because he was so surprised to see her in ordinary clothes—jeans, cowboy boots and a blue button-down shirt with the cuffs rolled up to her forearms. The jeans hugged her thighs, outlined the curve of her butt and in general made Walker forget to breathe. He could imagine her wearing the dark brown cowboy boots and nothing else.

Okay, not productive. She was the opposing counsel in a lawsuit vital to the future of his day care centers. They may only be a small piece of the large pie that made up Jones Holdings, Inc., but that didn’t matter. Walker was not a man who liked to lose. Ever.

The bar began to fill, and he noticed people glancing at him, either because he was a clear outsider or because word got around. There were friendly greetings for Lindsay but a definite chill in the air when it came to Walker. Clearly, the people of Rust Creek Falls were circling the wagons around one of their own.

Walker had debated flying back to his office in Tulsa after court ended today, but with the trial just a few days away, he’d decided to stay in town. It might be good to get to know the locals, get a feel for how things might sway in court and maybe make a few friends out of what might become a lynch mob if Lindsay Dalton had her way.

The best way to do all that? Alcohol, and lots of it.

Gaining the goodwill of the locals was merely part of Walker’s overall plan. He would obliterate Lindsay Dalton’s case, then leave the town thinking he was the hero, not the devil incarnate she’d made him out to be.

Walker strode back up to the bar, sending Lindsay a nod of greeting that she ignored. He put a hand on the smooth oak surface. “I want to buy a round,” he said to the bartender.

The woman, slim and brunette, looked similar enough to Lindsay that Walker could believe they were related. Especially in a town this small. “Sure, for...who?” she said.

“Everyone.” He grinned. “New in town. Figured it’d be a nice way to introduce myself.”

“You mean try to convince people you’re a nice guy?” Lindsay said from beside him.

“I am a nice guy. My grandmother and third-grade teacher said so.” He grinned at her. “You just haven’t given me a chance.”

“And you think a free beer will change my mind?”

He leaned in closer to her, close enough to catch a whiff of her perfume, something dark and sensual, which surprised him. Oh, how he wished it was as simple as a beer to change her mind, because if they had met under different circumstances, he would have asked her out. She was fiery and gorgeous and confident, and he was intrigued. “If it would, I’d buy you a case.”

“I’m not so easily bought, Mr. Jones.”

“Then name your price, Ms. Dalton.”

“An admission of guilt.” Her blue eyes hardened. “And changes in the way you run your business.”

Well, well. So the lawyer liked the fight as much as he did. There was nothing Walker liked better than a challenge. “A round for everyone in the bar, Miss...” He waved toward the bartender.

“Lani. Lani Dalton.” The brunette leaned back against the counter and crossed her arms. “Sister to Lindsay.”

That explained the defensive posture. Okay, so he had two enemies in Rust Creek Falls. He’d faced worse. Besides, he wasn’t going to be here long. It wasn’t going to matter what people said about him after he left—as long as he won the lawsuit and reestablished the good reputation of Just Us Kids Day Care. All he needed to do while he was here was temporarily change public perception about himself. Winning the lawsuit would take care of the rest. So he put on a friendly smile and put out his hand. It wasn’t making deals over drinks at a penthouse restaurant, but it would accomplish the same thing. And at a much cheaper price.

“Nice to meet you, Lani.” They shook. “I’m Walker Jones, owner of Just Us Kids.”

“Your day care has quite the tarnished reputation,” Lani said. “Folks here have a pretty negative opinion after all those kids got sick.”

Walker maintained his friendly smile. “An unfortunate event, to be sure. I’m hoping people will see that I’m a responsible owner, here to make things right.”

Beside him on the stool, Lindsay snorted. He ignored the sound of derision.

The bar had begun to fill since he got here, and the people standing in the Ace in the Hole were making no secret of eavesdropping on his exchange with the Dalton sisters. He could see, in their eyes and in their body language that the angry villagers were readying their pitchforks for the evil day care ogre.

If they thought they could intimidate him, they were wrong. He’d faced far worse, from ego-centric billionaires to feisty CEOs who refused to accept their tenure was done when he bought them out. This small town would be a cakewalk. He’d play their game, make nice, but in the end, he’d do what he always did—

Win.

He got to his feet and turned to face the room. He could handle these people. All he had to do was pretend to be one of them. Charming, gentle, friendly. His last girlfriend had accused him of being the Tin Man, because he didn’t have a heart. Maybe she was right. But he could damn well act the part. “Folks, I’m Walker Jones, Hudson’s older brother, and yes, the owner of Just Us Kids. I’m here in town to check on things, reassure you all that we run a quality operation. I’d like to take a moment to thank you all for the warm welcome to your lovely town.”

Cold eyes stared back at him. One man crossed his arms over his chest and glared at Walker. Another woman shook her head and turned away.

He widened his smile, loosened his stance. As easy and welcoming as a new neighbor. “And I can think of no better way to thank you all for your hospitality than a round on me.” A low cheer sounded from the back of the room. Walker smiled and put up a hand. “Now, I know a few beers won’t change much, and I don’t expect it to. I just want to say thank you. And if any of you have any questions, come on up to the bar. I’d sure like to meet the residents of Rust Creek Falls.”

Just as he knew it would, the icy wall between himself and the other patrons began to thaw. A few stepped right up to the bar, giving him a thank-you as they placed their orders.

“I figure it’s always a good idea to make friends with the guy buying the beer,” said a barrel-chested man with a thick beard and a red flannel shirt. “Elvin Houseman.”

“Walker Jones.” They shook hands. “Pleased to meet you.”

Elvin leaned in close to Walker’s ear. “Folks round here are gonna have a hard time trusting you. When those kids got sick over at the day care, it scared a lot of people.”

“I’m doing my best to rectify that, Mr. Houseman.”

The other man waved that off. “Nobody calls me Mr. Houseman. I’m just Elvin.”

“Elvin, then.”

Lani slid a beer across to Elvin. He raised it toward her, then toward Walker. “Thank you kindly. And best of luck to you with the town.” He gave Walker a little nod, then walked away.

Walker glanced at Lindsay. She’d either ignored or hadn’t noticed the whole exchange. She also hadn’t ordered a fresh drink, not that he expected her to take advantage of the round on his tab, but clearly, she wasn’t won over like the other folks in the bar, nor did she seem to be intimidated by him. But there was a hint of surprise in her face. She clearly hadn’t expected him to outflank her by going straight to the town. Walker headed back to his table.

Before he reached his seat, one of the giggling blondes who had come in earlier stood in front of him, her hips swaying to the music. She put her hands out. “Hey, would you like to dance? Come on, we need a man.”

The blonde was pretty, probably no older than twenty-three or twenty-four. On any other day, she’d be the kind of diversion Walker would go for—no real commitment, nothing expected after the evening was over. He’d dated enough of that type of woman to know how it would go—a few drinks, a few laughs, a good time in bed and then back to real life.

He wanted to say no, to tell her he had enough on his mind already, but then he reconsidered. Dancing with the local girl fed into his plan of ingratiating himself with the town, and would also show Lindsay Dalton an unexpected side of him. He wanted to keep the other lawyer as off balance as he could. If she didn’t know what to expect from him, the advantage would go to Walker.

So he shrugged off his suit jacket, undid his tie and the top two buttons of his shirt, then rolled up his shirt sleeves. “Sure.”

The blonde giggled again, then grabbed his hand. “It’s line dancing. Do you know how to do that?”

“Follow your hips?”

That made her laugh again. “Exactly.”

The blonde and her trio of friends surrounded him, and the five of them moved from one side of the dance floor to the other, doing something the girls called a grapevine that they’d learned from that Billy Ray Cyrus video “Achy Breaky Heart.” Though he’d never danced like this before, it was fairly simple, and by the time the first verse was finished, Walker had most of the steps memorized.

He had, however, all but forgotten the blonde. His gaze kept straying across the room to Lindsay Dalton, still sitting on the bar stool and chatting with her sister. He watched Lindsay, just to see if his plan was working, he told himself.

He’d done a little research on his opponent in the hours after court. Lindsay Dalton, the youngest of six children, fresh from taking the bar exam and now working for her father’s firm. She had been successful with some very small cases she’d argued—a boundary line, something about a dog dispute, those kinds of things. Nothing as big as a lawsuit against a major national corporation, albeit one division of the Jones empire. Yet she hadn’t seemed too daunted in the courtroom. If anything, she’d impressed him with her attitude—like a kitten standing up to a tiger.

Though the kitten wouldn’t even get to unsheathe its claws at the tiger, her attempt made him respect her. And made him wonder about her.

Across the bar, Lindsay was laughing at something the bartender had said. He liked the sound of her laugh, light and lyrical, and the way it lit her face, put a little dash of a tease into her eyes. He knew he shouldn’t—she was the enemy, after all—but he really wanted to get to know her better.

It was research, that was all. Figuring out what made the other side tick so he’d have a better chance in court.

The blonde and her friends circled to the left at the same time that Lindsay started to cross the room. Walker stepped to the right and captured Lindsay’s hand. “Dance with me.”

Her eyes widened. “Dance...with you?”

“Come on.” He swayed his hips and swung their arms. She stayed stiff, reluctant. He could hardly blame her. After all, just a few hours ago, they’d been facing off in court. “It’s the weekend. Let’s forget about court cases and arguments and just...”

“Have fun?” She arched a brow.

He shot her a grin. “I hear they do that, even in towns as small as Rust Creek Falls.”

That made her laugh. Her hips were swaying along with his, though she didn’t seem to be aware she was moving to the beat. “Are you saying my town is boring?”

Boring? She had no idea. But he wouldn’t tell her that. Instead he gave her his patented killer smile. “I’m saying it’s a small town. With some great music on the juke and a dance floor just waiting for you.” He lifted her hand and spun her to the right, then back out again to the left. “Come on, Ms. Dalton, dance with me. Me, the man, not me, the corporation you’re suing.”

“I shouldn’t...” She started to slide her hand out of his.

He stepped closer to her. “Shouldn’t have fun? Shouldn’t dance with the enemy?”

“I shouldn’t do anything with the enemy.”

He grinned, to show her he wasn’t all bad. Keep her on her toes, keep her from predicting him, and keep the advantage on his side. “I’m not asking for anything. Just a dance.”

Another song came on the juke, and the blonde and her friends started up again, moving from one side of the dance floor to the other. Their movements swept Walker and Lindsay into the middle of the dance floor, leaving her with two choices—dance with him or wade through the other women to escape.

For a second, he thought he’d won and she was going to dance with him. Then the smile on her face died, and she shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Jones, but I don’t dance with people who don’t take responsibility for their mistakes.”

Then she turned on her heel and left the dance floor and a moment later, the bar.

Walker tried to muster up some enthusiasm to dance with the other women—any man in his right mind would have taken that opportunity—but he couldn’t. He excused himself, paid his tab then left the bar. The victories he’d had today in court and later in the bar rang hollow in the cool night air.

* * *

Lindsay headed home, her stomach still in knots. She rolled down the driver side window of her sedan, letting in the fresh, crisp October Montana air, and tried to appreciate the clear, blank landscape ahead of her and the bright stars in the sky. But her mind kept going back to Walker Jones, to that moment in the bar.

Had she almost danced with him?

What was she thinking? He was the enemy, the one responsible for little baby Georgina’s illness and scary hospital stay. Maybe not him personally, but his company, and the lack of standards at his day care centers, was indeed responsible. Not to mention how many of her letters and phone calls to Jones’s corporate headquarters had gone unanswered, as he clearly tried to ignore the problem or hoped it would go away. He’d been aware of the problem from the minute the outbreak happened in town, and yet he had done nothing. Hadn’t flown in to check on the day care, hadn’t responded to the worried parents.

She had no interest in Walker Jones. No interest at all. And that little moment in the bar when he’d asked her to dance had been an anomaly, nothing more.

Walker Jones thought he could buy her town through alcohol and joining in on a few line dances. Well, he could think again. Neither she nor Rust Creek Falls would be so easily swayed by that man.

Lindsay headed into the ranch house where she’d grown up. She’d come back home to live after law school, partly because she needed to save money and partly because she’d missed her family. Now it was just her, her brother Travis and their parents. The house didn’t ring with the same noise as it did when Lindsay was young, but it still felt like home whenever she walked in the door.

The scents of fresh-baked bread, some kind of deliciousness the family had earlier for dinner and her mother’s floral perfume filled the air. It was late, and her parents would have already gone to bed, but Lindsay saw a light on in the kitchen.

“Hey, Trav,” she said to her brother as she entered the room. “What has you home early?”

Travis was the one who was known for partying late, dating a new girl every week and living a little wilder than the rest of the Daltons. She adored her brother, but hoped he’d settle down one of these days. He was a good guy, and in Lindsay’s opinion, there were far too few of those in the world.

“My date canceled. She got the flu. Didn’t feel like heading to the Ace, and so here I am.” He crossed to the fridge and pulled open the door. “Plus I heard Mom made meat loaf for dinner.”

Lindsay laughed. “I knew it had to be something bigger than a date canceling.”

“Hey, I don’t get my favorite dinner often enough.” He gave her the lopsided grin that had charmed dozens of women over the years. “Want a meat loaf sandwich?”

“Nah, I’m good. I was just going to grab a glass of wine and head out to the back deck. It’s a nice night.” Hundreds of thoughts and worries jockeyed for space in her mind. She needed some fresh air, some open space. The soft nicker of the horses in the stable, the whisper of a breeze across her face. Not the confines of the kitchen.

Travis handed her the open bottle of chardonnay from the refrigerator door. “Wine on a weeknight? Must have been a hell of a bad day.”

“It’s Friday night, so technically it’s the weekend.” She didn’t mention that she’d already had a couple of glasses at the Ace in the Hole. Nor did she admit Travis might be right.

“Yeah, right. You, little sister, are about as wild as a house cat lying in the sun.” He grinned, then started assembling his sandwich. A thick slice of meat loaf on top of some homemade white bread, then ketchup and a second slice. “Except when you were dating Jeremy back in college and thinking about running off to the big city.”

The two of them walked out to the back deck and sat in the Adirondack chairs that faced the wide expanse of the ranch. In the dark, it seemed like the Dalton land stretched forever. The sight was calming, reassuring. “I never thought about running off to the big city,” Lindsay said. “That was Jeremy’s idea.”

Her former fiancé had been smart and witty and driven. She’d met him in law school and liked him from the start. Then, as they neared graduation, he’d told her he had no intentions of living in Montana. He wanted to move to New York and practice law in a place that made him feel alive. For Lindsay, life was here, in the rich soil, the graceful mountains, the clean air. She never wanted to live anywhere else.