Breaking Bailey's Rules. Brenda Jackson
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He continued to watch her, somewhat surprised by his own actions. He wasn’t usually the type to waste his time ogling a woman. But with Bailey it couldn’t be helped. There was something about her that demanded a man’s attention regardless of whether he wanted to give it or not. Her brothers and cousins would probably skin him alive if they knew just where his thoughts were going right now.
The cold weather didn’t seem to bother her as she moved away from the truck without putting on her coat. Dressed in a long-sleeved shirt, a long pencil skirt that complimented her curves and a pair of black leather boots, she looked ready to walk the runway.
Squinting in the sun, he watched as she walked around the truck, checking out each tire. She flipped her hair away from her shoulders, and he imagined running his fingers through every strand before urging her body closer to his. There was no doubt in his mind he would love to sample the feel of their bodies pressed together. Then he would go for her mouth and—
“Walker? What are you doing here?”
Glad she had interrupted his thoughts, he replied, “I’m an invited guest, remember?”
She frowned as she approached him. “Invited? Not the way I remember it. But what I’m asking is why are you out here at the barn by yourself? In the cold? Where is everyone? And why didn’t you say something when I got out of the truck to let me know you were over here?”
He leaned back against the barn’s door. “Evening, Bailey. You sure do ask a lot of questions.”
She glared at him. “Do I?”
“Yes, especially for someone who just told me yesterday that one of her rules is not answering a lot of questions, no matter who’s asking. What if I told you that I happen to have that same rule?”
She lifted an angry chin. Was it his imagination or was she even prettier when she was mad? “I have a right to ask you anything I want,” she said.
He shook his head. “I beg to differ. However, out of courtesy and since nothing you’ve asked has crossed any lines, I’ll answer. The reason I’m outside by the barn is because I just returned from riding with Ramsey and Zane. They both left for home and I wasn’t ready to go in just yet.”
“Zane and Ramsey actually left you out here alone?”
“Yes, you sound surprised that they would. It seems there are some members of your family who trust me. I guess your brothers figure their horses and sheep are safe with me,” he said, holding her gaze.
“I didn’t insinuate—”
“Excuse me, but I didn’t finish answering all your questions,” he interrupted her, and had to keep from grinning when she shut her mouth tightly. That same mouth he’d envisioned kissing earlier. “The reason I didn’t say anything when you got out of the truck just now was because you seemed preoccupied with checking out your tires. Is there a problem?”
“One needs air. But when I looked up from my tires you were staring at me. Why?”
She had to know he was attracted to her. What man in his right mind wouldn’t be? She was beautiful, desirable—alluring. And he didn’t think the attraction was one-sided. A man knew when a woman was interested.
But he didn’t want her interest, nor did he want to be interested in her. He refused to tell her that the reason he hadn’t said anything was because he’d been too mesmerized to do so.
“I was thinking again about how much you and Charm favor one another. You’ll see for yourself when you meet her.”
“If I meet her.”
“Don’t sound so doubtful. I’m sure the two of you will eventually meet.”
“Don’t sound so sure of that, Walker.”
He liked the sound of his name from her lips. Refusing to go tit for tat with her, he changed the subject. “So how was your day at work, Bailey?”
* * *
Stubbornly, Bailey told herself he really didn’t give a damn how her day went. So why was he asking? Why did she find him as annoying as he was handsome? And why, when she’d looked up to see him staring at her, had she felt something she’d never felt before?
There was something so startling about his eyes that her reaction had been physical. For a second, she’d imagined the stroke of his fingers in her hair, the whisper of his heated breath across her lips, the feel of his body pressed hard against hers.
Why was her imagination running wild? She barely knew this man. Her family barely knew him. Yet they had welcomed him to Westmoreland Country without thinking things through. At least, that was her opinion. Was her family so desperate to find more relatives that they had let their guard down? She recalled days when a stranger on their land meant an alarm went out to everyone. Back then, they’d never known when someone from social services would show up for one of their surprise visits.
Knowing Walker was waiting for her to answer, she finally said, “It went well. It was my first day as a features editor and I think I handled things okay. You might even say I did an outstanding job today.”
He chuckled. “No lack of confidence on your part, I see.”
“None whatsoever.” It was dusk and being outside with him, standing by the barn in the shadows, seemed way too intimate for her peace of mind. But there was something she needed to know, something that had been on her mind ever since Josette had brought it up that morning.
Not being one to beat around the bush when it came to things she really wanted to know, she asked, “Are you married, Walker?”
* * *
Walker stared at her, trying to fight the feel of air being sucked from his lungs. Where the hell had that question come from? Regardless, the answer should have been easy enough to give, especially since he hadn’t been truly married even when he’d thought he had been. How could there be a real marriage when one of the parties took betrayal to a whole new level?
Silence reigned. Bailey had to be wondering why he hadn’t answered. He shook off the unpleasant memories. “No. I’m not married.” And then he decided to add, “Nor do I have a girlfriend. Any reason you want to know?”
She shrugged those beautiful shoulders that should be wearing a coat. “No. Just curious. You aren’t wearing a wedding ring.”
“No, I’m not.”
“But that doesn’t mean anything these days.”
“You’re right. Wearing a wedding ring doesn’t mean anything.”
He could tell by her frown that she hadn’t expected him to agree with her. “So you’re one of those types.”
“And what type is that?”
“A man who has no respect for marriage or what it stands for.”
Walker