Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker (3 page)

Glancing at her T-shirt then at the powered-down computer on
the desk—both of which bore her company’s logo—he nodded once. “I’m guessing
you’re Cyber Wise?” Those beautiful eyes of his shifted to look at her.

“I am.” Rori scooted to the edge of her chair. “Two years
ago, Dusty recruited me from the University of Kansas. I’d just completed my
MSCoE and was…”

His gaze dropped when she’d thrown out her credentials. Was
he uninterested? He wasn’t a college man, from the rumors floating around. Did
she just lose him?

She waved one hand to dismiss what she’d just said and
started over. “I finished my Master’s in computers, and he asked me to come to
Red Creek and work for him.”

Jackson met her gaze. “But you’re not on the payroll.”

“We worked out a deal. I started my own business in town,
but made D. Walker Mineral my number one priority.” Dusty’s business sense
combined with her need to work on her own terms had clashed then melded into a
win-win arrangement. “He leases the old five-and-dime building to me free of
charge, for as long as I remain in town and stay available to his company.”

His jaw shifted and he narrowed his eyes. “You just told
Abby you were in Kansas City for two weeks.”

Shit, he’d caught that? Rori took a deep breath. “I want
to…someday…open another office in KC.” Hopefully with the help of Dusty’s
company. “And getting my name associated with corporations in that area is
imperative.” There. She didn’t exactly lie, but she didn’t confess everything
either. Now, just how sharp was this rodeo cowboy?

His lips curved in a smirk. “So, after Dusty died, you
figured you’d just go do whatever you wanted, and damn the contract?”

She clamped her jaw closed. The man did not play fair. “The
job in KC was a last-minute thing. The company they’d hired to do their startup
went belly-up, and they urgently needed help.”

Jackson just stared at her.

Loosening her facial muscles, she gave a sad smile. “Dusty
was…gone already, the company shut down for the week after, and I was only a
three-hour drive away from Red Creek if an emergency arose. One hour by Dusty’s
private jet, if needed.” Shifting in her seat, she let go of the guilt she felt
for missing the funeral and for semi-breaking her contract with the company.

The man in Dusty’s chair did not look impressed.

She needed to hit this cowboy with more facts.

“The contract specifies that I can take jobs outside the
region. And I have, many times, with Dusty’s okay.” She gestured out the
window. “I mean, you’ve seen Red Creek. How much computer work do you think
this town needs?” Her voice rose as her panic grew. This man could terminate
her contract and leave her without a storefront, and with a truckload of
electronics to move. She should probably have been nicer to him from the start.

He watched her for long moments, then placed his hand flat
on the desk and stood. “Let’s go see this building of yours.” A shaft of
sunlight coming through the window highlighted his face.

She stared, unmoving. He was handsome, rugged, but those
eyes were too compelling, too sharp.

“Rori?”

His hair fell in disarray, and in the sunlight, gleamed with
a dozen shades of brown. “Huh?” He’d said something…

With a grin, he walked around the desk and opened the door.
“Your building? The old five-and-dime? Let’s go take a look at it, then we’ll
have breakfast at Cubby’s, and talk business.”

With her butt still stuck to the chair, she shifted her
gaze, trying to figure out his plan of attack. “Sure.” She got to her feet and
wandered past him and out the door. How had a quick confirmation of contract
validity become a personal tour and breakfast? She glanced down at her old
Get
Cyber Wise
T-shirt. And why hadn’t she worn something a little sexier?

Jackson followed Rori down the hallway and out the front
door, nodding at Abby who gave him a wave and a smile. He’d be sure to question
her later, since she seemed to know Rori. Well enough to share gossip with her,
anyway.

The sun had climbed in the sky and the breeze carried the
scents of heating asphalt and grass. It would be a hot, humid day again today,
and visions of him lying on a cushioned chair next to the pool at the lake
house all day reading a rodeo magazine kept sneaking into his head.

They stood at the curb and waited for a slowly passing
pickup truck to go by before stepping out to cross the street.

“You said two years?” He liked that he had something on this
woman, since she had something against him already—his rodeo career. Whatever
the hell that was about. The anger in her eyes when she’d shot him down earlier
looked fresh, as if whatever had happened to her—rodeo-related—was still going
on.

She stepped up onto the opposite curb. “What?” Turning to
walk down the street, she left room for him to walk next to her. On the inside.

Placing his hand on her lower back, he guided her toward the
buildings, leaving space for him to walk on the outside, along the curb. Just
as his father had taught him. Old-fashioned, but that’s what a gentleman did,
according to Dusty Walker. And the feeling of her firm body against his palm
proved too much to resist.

Balking a little, she glanced up at him. Pink colored her
cheeks.

Firm and warm… He dropped his hand away as revolutions of
sexy ideas spun wildly in his head. “Two years ago you came here?”

She nodded and looked down the street. “I’ll be forever
grateful to him. He was more than generous. It was such a stroke of luck that
we met, and both happened to be—”

“Oh, hell.” A horrific thought flashed into his brain, making
Jackson trip over his own feet, nearly tumbling into her. Holy shit, could she
be another one? He stared at her face, looking for any similarities to Dusty.

“What is it?” She waited a second, and when he stayed
silent, she pulled her keys out of her pocket and slid them into the lock on
the reinforced glass door of an old glass-front, brick, two-story building
bearing a round sign proclaiming
Cyber Wise Inc
.

“I was wondering about your family.” His voice came out
wobbly. Damn him, if he had the hots for his half-sister… A chill of disgust
raced through him and his stomach turned.

“My family?” She walked into the building and lights
flickered on overhead. “Why?” Turning to face him, she crossed her arms.

Jackson set aside his suspicions for the moment and scoped
out the room. Ten tables, each with computer stuff on them and chairs on one
side of them. Like a showroom, where she’d give her customers hands-on
demonstrations. “This is really smart.” He walked to one setup and looked at
the monitor, keyboard, box that made computer things happen, and mouse.

“I’ve found that actually letting people get in elbows-deep
is the way to avoid any dissatisfaction with my products.” She’d uncrossed her
arms but hadn’t moved.

“Give me your sales pitch.” He didn’t really care about
computers, he just liked hearing her voice.

She squinted at him, then proceeded to give him a quick
lesson in the different options of computers…and she lost him. His phone served
as his only connection with the world, otherwise he stayed as far away from
technology as he could get.

“You’d be able to teach me?” He thought of the setup back at
the office on Dusty’s desk. That monster, Jackson didn’t even know how to turn
on.

“Teach you…” She tipped her head, and that flow of sexy hair
brushed her shoulder.

He looked away, silently reminding himself that he needed to
get her paternity sorted out first.

“Computering.” He shrugged. “Haven’t had much need for one,
but the people in the office are telling me to open documents and spreadsheets
and internet and powerpoints, and I only know what one of them things is.” He
pulled a frown.

She smiled. “You do that ‘good ol’ boy’ thing pretty darn
well.”

Glancing at his boots, he shuffled one foot. “Aw shucks,
ma’am. Wish it was just an act.” He played it off as a joke, but it was a sore
point with him. He didn’t have the book learning his mother had wanted him to
have, but Dusty had been on his side. Dad hadn’t gone to college, and he hadn’t
tried to pressure Jackson into going. But now that he’d met someone as smart
and accomplished as Rori, he felt a hundred steps behind her.

“Sure.” She shot the word at him.

He glanced into her soft, blue eyes. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’ll teach you what you need to know. But not this
morning.” She pointed toward the back of the building. “I’ve got a few projects
I need to finish.” She started walking that way. “Let me show you the work area
in the back and the storage area in the basement.”

He nodded and followed her into the back room, past the
tables bearing the bits and pieces of unfinished computers, laptops, tablets,
and a dozen boxes with cables and plug-ins that he had no clue about. She
opened a wide door and headed down the steps.

He followed, although it sounded like a hell of a lot of
boring awaiting him down there. He’d go along, seeing as he owned this
building. And he had some important information to get out of her. “So, your
family?”

At the bottom of the steps, she faced him. “Just Mom and
Dad. They’re high school teachers in KC, and spend the summer traveling.” Her
gaze didn’t leave his. “Why do you want to know about them?”

How did he handle this…without asking for a paternity test?
“Just curious.”

It took her a few seconds to process that before she gave
him a blessedly brief tour of the rows of racks holding electronics, and
explained the temperature and humidity control system she’d installed.

“Impressive.” He followed her back upstairs, resolutely
keeping his eyes off her derriere. Back on the ground level, he pointed to the
ceiling. “What’s upstairs?”

“Living quarters.” She glanced away. “Mine.”

She lived and worked here. Dedication, for sure. He’d bet
any money that if he drove through town at midnight on any random night, he’d
see the lights on and her bent over one of the tables. “Let’s see it.”

She wrinkled her brow at him. “Why?”

He laughed. “Darlin’, if you want to go on ahead and
straighten the place up a bit first, that’s fine.”

“No, it’s not messy...” She groaned. “It’s just…it’s my
private space.”

“I understand that, but I’d like to take a quick look at the
setup.” And search for clues about her father. He leaned forward, his mouth
quirking up a bit. “You’re not hiding anything up there, are you?”

She rolled her eyes and huffed out a breath. “Besides
nuclear weapons and a kilo of cocaine? No.” Spinning on the rubber-soled heel
of her red high-tops, she trudged past a small coffee area, set up for guests,
he’d bet, and opened the door to a flight of stairs. He followed her up to a
bright, sunny space. The blue couch and two matching chairs sat around a low table
holding a few game controllers, all facing a big-ass television. An impressive
array of game consoles resided on the shelves under the TV.

He opened his mouth to make an obvious comment, then snapped
it shut and looked at her.

Her face looked shuttered, closed down, as if she was
embarrassed that anyone saw her hobby.

Jackson didn’t spot any photos sitting around, so he walked
past the couch and into the small kitchen. “This is nice.” He enjoyed cooking
some, a talent his mother shared with him from an early age. “This gas stovetop
is state of the art.”

“Um. Sure.” She walked up to it. “Never been used.” She
grinned. “But I’ve gone through three microwaves in two years.”

He laughed. “I’ll have to cook you up my…” He shook his
head. First things first. “Show me the rest?”

She blinked a few times, then turned and wandered toward the
back of the building. “Bathroom.” She pointed toward the left. “Bedroom.” Her
finger moved toward the right.

Jackson peeked his head into the bathroom. Tub, separate
shower, and all the rest. He strode right into her bedroom and glanced at the
bare walls, then looked at the top of the dresser. There it was. A photo of
Rori in a cap and gown, her parents on either side of her. Pointing to the
picture, he glanced at her. “May I?”

She nodded slowly. “Okay.” Her voice rose on the last
syllable. She was confused, but he wasn’t about to explain.

Picking up the eight-by-ten frame, he walked past the
yellow-quilted bed to the window and held the photo in the sunlight. Her
mother’s brown hair and brown eyes, then her father’s… Jackson breathed a sigh
of relief. Her father had a full head of black hair, and eyes the color of the
noon sky. “Nice family.”

“Wait.” She stomped toward him. “Are you fucking kidding
me?” Her eyes shot blue lasers at him.

His brows shot up and he considered backing away from the
shitstorm headed his way. “What?”

She grabbed the picture from him, staring him down. “You
thought I was one of Dusty’s…” Breathing fast, she shook her head. “You
thought…” She backed away a step and set the photo on the dresser, face down.

He hung his head, not that he was ashamed…much…but it was a
trick that always worked with his mom. “Can you blame me?”

“Damn it.” She leaned against the end of the bed. “I don’t
know what to say.”

“Darlin’, I owe you an apology.” He faced her head-on. “But
if you’d lived in my boots for the last few weeks, you’d be looking for more of
Dusty’s surprises in the faces of folks you met, too.”

Her fingers played with the cotton bedspread. “Especially
here in town, right?” She looked up at him, her eyes blue and sad.

All he wanted to do was tug her into his arms, kiss away the
sadness and leap with her in his arms onto the mattress. But he knew it wasn’t
the moment. Taking her arm, he gestured toward the main room. “Breakfast?”

She had to know he was changing the subject, but she went
along willingly. “Breakfast and business talk, right?”

“Right.” He followed her down the steps and out through the
front of the building.

She locked up.

“Security?” He looked for wires or boxes or cameras, but saw
none.

“The best.” Turning, she ended up just inches in front of
him. “Just try to get to my bedroom again, cowboy.”

He leaned a fraction closer and smirked. “Is that a
challenge?”

Her eyes widened as the double-meaning of her words struck
her. When her cheeks turned pink, he took pity on her, placed his hand on her
back, and led her across the street to the town’s restaurant.
Challenge
accepted
.

****

Rori sat on the opposite side of the booth from Jackson as a
parade of townsfolk stopped by to pay their respects and welcome him to Red
Creek. Women boldly flirted with him, and some people actually asked for his
autograph. Evidently, he was some big hoo-ga-doo in the rodeo world.

Which served as a good reminder to her to stay the heck out
of situations where she’d be alone with him. Like, for instance, in his office
teaching him “computering,” as he’d so colloquially put it. She’d like to take
back that agreement, but working with his company was her primary job.

Cubby’s wife, Sherry, stopped at their table and refilled
their coffee cups as the last gawker shook Jackson’s hand and wandered away.
“Met your brother Dylan last week, you know.” The older woman stared at Jackson
for a few seconds. “You look a lot alike. ‘Cept he has green eyes.
Lighter-colored hair.”

After a pause, Jackson lifted his hand toward the woman.
“Jackson Walker.”

Sherry set down the coffee pot and grasped his hand.
“Sherry. My husband and I own this place.” She picked up the pot again. “So
what’s all this talk about Dylan and Zoe Chapman? Is it true?”

Jackson blinked a few times. “Uh, I don’t know. Haven’t
communicated with Dylan.”

Rori frowned at Sherry, who nodded her understanding.
Jackson could barely cope with his new family situation. And if the rumor Abby
had just shared that morning was true, Jackson sure as heck didn’t need to find
out about another family member.

Sherry swung her gaze back to Jackson. “You plannin’ on
staying?”

With a glance at Rori, he smiled up at Sherry. “For at least
five more days.”

Sherry snorted and walked away. “Full of that same Walker
B.S., that’s for sure.”

He coughed out a laugh. “Where do you go in this town for
privacy?”

Their breakfasts arrived, and Jackson buttered his stack of
pancakes. The side plate of scrambled eggs, bacon and ham sat between them, and
he gestured for her to help herself.

The smell of the bacon sent her mouth watering like crazy,
but she sipped her coffee and stirred her bowl of fruit, granola, and yogurt.
Sitting all day didn’t allow room for fried pork in her diet, not if she didn’t
want to spread out like a melting snowman.

“There’s nowhere that people aren’t watching you. It’s like
living in a fishbowl.” She didn’t know why she said that. She liked Red Creek,
mostly, but her love life had taken a direct hit in the two years since she’d
moved here. Red Creekians liked to make everything their business, and she
didn’t want
her
business to suffer because of gossip.

Shoving a pie-shaped stack of three pancakes into his mouth,
Jackson groaned.

Her stomach rumbled, and she scooped a big spoon of her
sorry breakfast into her mouth. Maybe if she jogged more? Bought a treadmill?
Did yoga?

“Is that all you’re having?” Jackson gestured with his
coffee cup toward her bowl.

“I usually skip breakfast.” She poked at a strawberry hiding
in yogurt.

“Most important meal of the day?” He went back to cutting
his pancakes. “Why’s that?”