Shirley Jump – Maverick Vs. Maverick (страница 1)
All’s Fair In Love And...Court?
RUST CREEK RAMBLINGS
Lindsay Dalton, daughter of our esteemed town attorney, is about to try her first case in the courtroom, and it’s a doozy. It’s David versus Goliath as Lindsay tests her mettle against millionaire cowboy Walker Jones.
With his looks, charm and commanding presence, Walker Jones the Third seems like a man who just can’t lose. However, his blue-eyed powers of persuasion apparently do not extend to our earnest Ms. Dalton. In fact, our sources suggest the novice Rust Creek Falls lawyer might just be throwing Walker Jones off his game. Could this be mere legal maneuvering? The jury is still out. But with two stubborn hearts in denial, we at the Gazette are predicting an epic romantic showdown!
“Are you just trying to butter me up before the trial starts?”
He grinned. “Is it working?”
“Nope. I’m not so easily swayed.” She feigned affront, but in the face of his smile, it was hard to hold the pose, and she ended up laughing instead.
He reached up, brushed a tendril of hair off her forehead and tucked the lock behind her ear. His touch lingered on her cheek, and she leaned into it. “Too bad.”
“Why?” She could barely whisper the word. The desire simmering inside her was a living, breathing thing, overpowering every sane thought she’d ever had, pushing her closer to him.
“Because if you weren’t Lindsay Dalton, lawyer, and I wasn’t Walker Jones, owner of Just Us Kids, I think—” his gaze dropped to her lips, then back up to her eyes “—we could have been something.”
“But we are those things,” the sensible part of her said, even as the rest of her was telling that sensible side to shut up, “and we can’t be something.”
“In the morning, I would agree with you. But right now—” his thumb traced over her bottom lip and made her breath catch “—why don’t we just pretend none of that exists. Just for tonight. Just for now...”
* * *
Montana Mavericks:
The Baby Bonanza—Meet Rust Creek Falls’ newest bundles of joy!
Maverick vs. Maverick
Shirley Jump
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author SHIRLEY JUMP spends her days writing romance so she can avoid the towering stack of dirty dishes, eat copious amounts of chocolate and reward herself with trips to the mall. Visit her website at www.shirleyjump.com for author news and a booklist, and follow her at Facebook.com/shirleyjump.author for giveaways and deep discussions about important things like chocolate and shoes.
To the family I was born into and the family of friends I have found along the way—thank you for always having my back and for the steady supply of belly-deep laughter and warm, sweet memories.
Contents
Walker Jones’s mother would tell anyone who would listen that her oldest son came into this world ready to argue. He was a carbon copy of his father that way, she’d say, another man ready to debate everything from the color of the sky to the temperature of the room.
So it was no surprise he’d grown up to fill his father’s shoes in the boardroom, too.
The elder, Walker Jones II, was a formidable opponent in any corporate environment, though his advanced age had warranted a decline in the number of hours he worked. Walker III had stepped in, doubling the company in size and reach. That desire to take over the world had led him to do the one thing he thought he’d never do again—journey back to small-town America to defend the family business interests.
Walker had grown up in Oklahoma, but as far as he could tell, Rust Creek Falls and Kalispell, Montana, where the courthouse was located, were just copycats of the kind of tiny spit of a town that Walker tried to avoid. Lord knew what his brother Hudson saw in the place, because to Walker, it was just one more Norman Rockwell painting to escape as soon as humanly possible. He’d spent as little time as possible here a few months earlier when he’d opened his first Just Us Kids Day Care center. Basically just enough time to unlock the door and hand Hudson the keys. The day care center was a tiny part of the much larger operation of Jones Holdings, Inc., a blip on the corporate radar.
Walker had no intention of staying any longer this time around, either. Just long enough to deal with a pesky lawsuit and a persistent lawyer named Lindsay Dalton. The attorney worked in her father’s office. Probably one of those kids handed a job regardless of their competency level, Walker scoffed. He figured he’d make quick work of the whole thing and get back to his corporate offices in Tulsa ASAP.
Walker strode into Judge Sheldon Andrews’s courtroom on a Friday morning, figuring he could be out of town by sunset. The lawsuit was frivolous, the charges unfounded, and Walker had no doubt he could get it thrown out before the arguments got started.
Walker shrugged out of his cashmere overcoat, placed it neatly on the back of his chair, then settled himself behind the wide oak defendant’s table. He laid a legal pad before him, a file folder on his left, and a row of pens to the right. Props, really, part of sending a message to the plaintiff that Walker was ready for a fight. Perception, Walker had learned, was half the battle. His lawyer, Marty Peyton, who had been around the courtroom longer than Walker had been alive, came in and took the seat beside him.
“This summary judgment should be a slam dunk,” Walker said to Marty. “These claims are totally groundless.”
“I don’t know if I’d call it a slam dunk,” Marty whispered back. He pushed his glasses up his nose and ran a hand through his short white hair. “If Lindsay Dalton is anything like her father, she’s a great lawyer.”
Walker waved that off. He’d gone up against more formidable opponents than some small-town lawyer.
“And for another, this is about sick kids,” Marty went on. “You already have the court of public opinion against you.”
“Sick kid, singular,” Walker corrected. “She’s only representing one family. And kids get sick at day care centers all the time. Kids are walking germ factories.”
Marty pursed his lips and sat back in his seat. “Whatever you say. I hope you’re right. You don’t need this kind of publicity, especially since you’re planning to open five more locations this year.”
The new locations would bring the day care division up to twenty-two locations, throughout Montana and Oklahoma. A nice dent in the western market. “It’ll be fine. We’ll dispense with this lawyer and her ridiculous suit before you can say hello and goodbye.” Walker straightened the pens again, then turned when the courtroom door opened and in walked his opponent.
Lindsay Dalton was not what he’d been expecting. Not even close.
Given the terse tone of her letters and voice mails, he’d expected some librarian type. All buttoned up and severe, with glasses and a shapeless, dingy brown jacket. Instead, he got a five-foot-five cover model in a pale gray suit and a pink silk shirt with the top two buttons unfastened. Not to mention heels and incredible legs.
She was, in a word, fascinating.
Lindsay Dalton had long brown hair in a tidy ponytail that skimmed the back of her suit and bangs that dusted across her forehead. Her big blue eyes were accented by a touch of makeup. Just enough to draw his gaze to her face, then focus it on her lips.
She smiled at her clients just then—a young couple who looked like they’d donned their Sunday best—and the smile was what hit Walker the hardest. It was dazzling. Powerful.
Holy hell.
He turned to Marty. “That’s Lindsay Dalton?”