Jackson: The Sons of Dusty Walker (5 page)

She snorted. “Do you read a lot of international intrigue
novels?” But she wouldn’t rule out any of Jackson’s suspicions.

“You can scoff, but I’ll bet you a million bucks there’s
something strange going on.” He pressed print and walked over to the printer on
a shelf in the corner.

“I don’t know, Jackson. I don’t mean to minimalize this, but
is it worth your time digging into it further?”

He swung around and smiled. “Compared to the boring-ass
files sitting on that desk? Hell, yeah!”

She couldn’t keep the smile from curving her lips. “Okay.
But I don’t know how you’re going to get any further than—”

“You can hack computers, right?” He gestured for her to take
the big chair again. “Can you do that from here or do we need to go to your
store?”

She sucked in a breath. “I don’t hack.” Standing, she backed
away from the computer. “That’s illegal, immoral, unscrupulous—”

“Okay.” He held up a hand. “Sorry. But you know someone who
does, right?” His brows rose as he stalked toward her. “You have to. Somebody
from college?”

“Why would you think that?” She backed up a step and bumped
up against a file cabinet.

He stood feet from her, staring at her. “I can see it in
your eyes. You do know someone. I’ll pay them.”

She could stand there and deny it, but she had no poker
face. “Okay, but let me keep your name out of it.” Holding her hand out, she
waited for him to place the papers in her hand. “I’m doing this under protest.”

“Protest acknowledged. Remember, you’re a contract employee
of D. Walker Mineral Company, and therefore you’re protected by said contract
from any legal whatevers.”

She closed her eyes for a second so he wouldn’t see her
rolling them. “That’s just shy of being convincing, but let me text my
contact.” Taking a photo of the top sheet, she cropped it to show only eighteen
of the bank routing numbers and bank accounts, then texted them to Kiwi with a
request for information. “Done.” She gave him a glare. “But you can never
mention this to anyone.”

“Understood.” He nodded. “How long? What now?”

She read Kiwi’s reply text. “He says, ‘Give me an hour’.
Now, we could search Dusty’s emails.” She scrunched up her nose. “If that’s okay
with you.”

“Yeah, that’s okay.” He let her take the big chair and
access the emails. After a half hour of searching emails, files, and photos,
she sat back. “Nothing.”

“What about his personal emails? He has a laptop and a
computer at his house.” Jackson stood.

“Your house?” She closed down all the files and software.

“Yeah. The house I own a fourth of.” It still sounded odd to
him. He gestured. “C’mon. Marliss will have supper ready and you can help me
get into those computers.”

“I don’t know.” She got up and walked around the far side of
the desk. “I don’t want to just show up for supper at Dusty’s house and—”

“My house. Remember?” Jackson folded the papers and stuffed
them into his back pocket, then held out his hand to Rori. “And since you’re
under contract…” He grinned then laughed. “You can’t say no.”

She giggled as she took his hand and let him pull her down
the hall toward the front door. “I feel like Nancy Drew all of a sudden.”

“Who?” He pulled open the door and glanced back at her.

She should have known. With a mother named Sapphire, and
growing up in a quirky Pacific Northwestern town… “Just a favorite book
character of mine.”

“Oh, right.” He pulled the door shut and used his key to
lock it. “Your parents are teachers.”

She laughed as he hauled her around the side of the building
to where the red company truck sat. Jackson and her—they each saw the world
through very different filters.

Jackson helped Rori into the company truck, almost surprised
that she didn’t insist on taking her own car. But the house…his house…was only
a ten minute drive from town. As he walked around the front of the truck, he
dialed the home number.

“Good evening, Mr. Walker.” Marliss’ voice, almost too perky
for a woman in her sixties, carried from his phone.

“Hey, Marliss, I’m heading that way, and if it’s okay, I’m
bringing someone for supper.”

“Well, of course. Lou makes enough food for a dozen.” Her
husband, Lou, had cooked since he was old enough to work outside the home.
“Will this be a formal meal in the dining room?”

He looked through the truck window at Rori. “Sort of more of
a…date?”

Rori lifted her brows at him.

“Uh huh. Not too sure, then?” Marliss hummed for a couple
seconds. “A nice breeze has come up. How about a few candles on the table out
by the pool?”

He smiled. “Perfect. Thank you.”

“My pleasure. Now, drive safe.” She’d told him that this
morning, too. A warning based on his father’s demise?

“Will do. Be there in ten.”

“We’ll be ready.”

Jackson opened the driver’s door and slid in. “I called the
house to see if there was enough for two, or if we needed to stop at Cubby’s
for a to-go order.”

Rori laughed. “Oh man, your dad used to talk about the
battalion-sized meals Lou cooked. When Dusty was home, he’d bring in the
leftovers for lunch the next day and feed the whole office.”

Turning onto Main Street, Jackson tried to wrap his head
around Dusty bringing chow in for a crowd. Most likely his frugal need to not
waste anything.

They rode silently until the house came into view. Up on a
hill facing Osprey Lake, surrounded by acres of land, the long, two-story
modern-looking place loomed like a giant country mansion. Glass windows along
the front of the house reflected the sun. There’d be a beautiful sunset
tonight. He’d be sure to watch the time and take Rori down to the lake to enjoy
it with him.

Of course, right now, his groin tightened with anticipation
of pulling Rori into his arms, a kiss, then another, then a quick walk back to
the house and up to the bedroom he’d chosen to use. Jackson had to shift to
make room in his jeans for the hardening behind his fly.

“I’m excited to see the house. I’ve heard so much about it.”
Rori fidgeted and pulled down the visor, checking her face in the mirror.

“You’ve never been in the place?”

“No.” From her pocket, she pulled a tube of something pink
and shimmery, opened it, and smoothed some on her lips.

Why did he want to kiss it off her right there, halfway up
the driveway?

“Your dad was a stickler for separating business and
personal.” She scrunched up her face as she looked at him. “I think it was
Theresa’s way of keeping us common folk out of her life.”

He’d guessed that Dusty’s wife was a socialite-type. Born
into money, the best schools and college out east. “Well, since I’m about as
common as they come…” He should have a party at the house, invite the whole
company and their families.

“You’re a Walker.” She flipped up the visor. “Around these
parts, that’s akin to royalty.”

He laughed. Even when he’d won on the rodeo circuit, he was
treated as just plain folk. “If I find a crown hidden in the storage space,
I’ll be sure to start wearing it to the office.”

Her smile did wild things to him, and as he pulled up to the
side of the house, outside the garage, he winked at her. “Here it is. It ain’t
much, but it’s home. For this week.”

She let herself out and they walked around the back to where
the pool, cabana, and outdoor kitchen took up a half-acre of land.

“Yep.” She looked around, taking it all in. “Ain’t much.”

Jackson took her hand and led her to the wet bar under the
shady pergola. “Can I make you a drink? Beer? Wine?”

He opened the refrigerator. “Looks like Marliss made a
pitcher of margaritas.” He pulled out the glass container and showed Rori. “If
you’re brave.”

“Mmmm.” She nodded. “I’ll have a little one. We still have
some work to do this evening, so I don’t want to get too goofy.”

He selected two tall glasses, filled them with ice, and
poured the green concoction into them. Handing one to her, he raised his. “To a
long evening, and getting to know each other.”

She tipped her head. “How about, to a productive evening
getting to the bottom of things.”

He’d nearly forgotten about the computer searching they had
to do. “To a little of both of those?”

Tapping her glass against his, she nodded once. “Perfect.”
She sipped. “Oh my gosh, this is delicious.”

“Thank you.” Marliss’ voice came from the French doors that
led into the kitchen. “A recipe I’ve perfected over the years.” The older
woman, her short hair curly and jet-black, carried a festive Mexican platter with
a variety of appetizers on it. She set them on the counter next to Rori and
Jackson. “Dinner in fifteen minutes.”

“Thank you, Marliss.” He gestured to Rori. “I’d like you to
meet Rori Hughes. She’s on contract with the company.”

Marliss nodded, but Rori held out her hand for a shake, and
the housekeeper took it. “Glad to meet you, Marliss. I’m sure we’ve seen each
other in town a few times.”

The woman smiled. “I think we were on the Founder’s Day
cleanup crew together last year.”

“We were.” Rori smiled. “It’s nice to officially meet you.”

“Ditto.” Marliss gestured to a round table with four
comfortable-looking chairs that sat under a huge sun umbrella by the pool. “I
hope dining al fresco is agreeable with you, Ms. Hughes.”

“It’s Rori, please, and yes, I’d love to stay outside now
that it’s cooled off a little.” Rori turned to look at the table. Behind her
back, Marliss winked at Jackson and gave him a thumbs-up.

He shook his head and picked up the platter. “C’mon Ms.
Hughes. Let’s get comfortable and enjoy the best cookin’ in the tri-state
area.”

They sat and picked at the amazing, spicy,
southwestern-themed appetizers until Marliss carried out two covered plates,
set them in front of them, and removed the covers to reveal a meal as delicious
as any he’d had in expensive Mexican restaurants. They dug in.

“Wow, Lou is really good.” Rori set down her fork, patted
her belly, then sipped at her second refill of margarita.

“Last night, he made me this steak…” Jackson had been amazed
at the welcome he’d received from Marliss and Lou. They’d treated him like he
was family, gave him the full tour, the codes for the doors and the keys for
the vehicles. After they’d shown him which bedroom his half-brother, Dylan, had
used the week before, he’d chosen the one next to it, with a view of the lake.
Marliss had even brought his supper to his room, where he sat at the table
watching TV for a while until he gave it up and began counting the stars as
they appeared over the lake.

“That good, huh?” Rori’s smile warmed him deep inside.

“Sorry, this is all a lot to take in.” He blinked down at
the food on his plate. And it would be so easy to get used to. He looked toward
the hillside behind the house. The orange glow told him the sun was getting
close to the horizon. “C’mon.” He stood. “Let’s go watch the sunset.”

She jumped up and reached for her plate.

“No. Don’t touch that.” He glanced toward the kitchen. “I
learned the hard way that we don’t bus our own dishes. That’s Marliss’s job.”

“Oh, that’s too funny.” Rori lifted her hands as if in
surrender. “Wouldn’t want to get into any trouble.”

He took her hand and led her around the side of the house
and down the gradual sloping walkway to the sandy lakeshore. Three docks jutted
into the water, two of them holding boats and a pontoon, the other longer, with
personal watercraft, both motorized and paddle-driven. A gazebo sat at the end
of the dock.

“This is pretty impressive.” Rori held tight to his hand,
and it felt too right to Jackson. Like she was someone he’d known for a long
time.

Outside the gazebo stood a swinging seat just big enough for
two, and he gestured for her to sit.

She didn’t move, just looked up at him, the orange glow of
the sun shimmering in her hair, sparkling in her eyes. “Jackson.”

“Darlin’.” He stepped closer, his belt buckle brushing
against her stomach. “I’ve been wanting to do this all day.”

After glancing at the water, she blinked her pretty eyes up
at him. “Throw me in?”

“Not hardly.” He slid his hands along her arms to her
shoulders, slowly, gently, giving her plenty of room to say no. When she tipped
her head, he had to take. Pressing his lips to hers, he let a wash of desire
flood him, hardening him in his jeans, and sending his thoughts to the two of
them in his bedroom.

His tongue slid along the seam of her lips, tasting sweet
and sour margarita, before he pressed it inside her mouth, tasting the deep,
warm spices of their supper mixed with the addictive flavor of her.

Her arms wrapped around his neck as she pulled herself
closer to him, deepening the kiss.

Against his shirt, burning through layers of fabric, her
nipples rubbed, hard and hot against his chest. She let out a little moan that
made him far too wild.

Sliding one hand down her back, he cupped her ass, squeezing
the firm, ripe roundness as his tongue played with hers. Then it hit him. Rori
was okay with this? He ended the kiss but stayed just an inch from her lips.
“You know, I’m still a rodeo cowboy.”

Her eyes, unfocused and darker blue than the evening sky,
shifted left, then right. “I know, but I’ve made peace with it.”

Backing away another inch, he narrowed his eyes. “How so?”

****

Rori shrugged. “First…” She thought for a few seconds.

“That’s how you like to get your points across, Ms. Hughes.
Logically, and in perfect order.”

With a smile, she closed her eyes. “You noticed that in me?”

“Yeah. First…” He laughed. “It’s because it’s different from
anyone else I know.”

“Is that why you like me?” She felt her face heat. Had she
really just asked him that? And sounded like a teenager with her first crush?

“Oh, no you don’t. You’re not changing the subject. You
finish telling me your list.” He guided her to the swing and sat them
hip-to-hip, his arm around her shoulders. “First…” he prodded.

“First, I know you’ll be leaving this town, probably never
returning.” It killed her to realize she might never see him again, but facts
were facts. “So the whole rodeo problem ends Sunday when you fly out of
Kansas.”

He stared at her, but his lips thinned slightly.

“Second, people have seen us together, so gossip has more
than likely spread to about half the population of Red Creek, and by tomorrow,
we should have total saturation.”

A corner of his mouth quirked.

“You know they’re assuming we’re getting cozy, so we may as
well do it.”

Jackson let out a laugh. “Those are your reasons? I’m
short-term and we’re assumed guilty already?”

She turned in to him, pressing her hand on his chest. His
hard, well-developed chest, where his heart beat strong and fast. Warm tugs
pulled at her core, and she barely refrained from pressing her thighs together
and wiggling with the pleasure. “Um…” What had she been about to say? “No. Yes.
No.” She shook her head a few times to clear it. “I feel this pull toward you,
like a chemical reaction, or a magnetic force.” She needed to admit it, to him
and to herself. “From the moment you walked up to me at your company, and then
in your office, I thought I might just kiss you. For no reason.” Recalling
those moments, her heart beat faster, too.

Jackson cupped her cheek and leaned closer. “Don’t need a
reason.” He slanted his mouth on hers, opening his lips and sweetly running his
tongue along her teeth, then tasting her mouth and teasing her tongue with his.

She laced her fingers through the back of his hair, thick
and silky, she loved how it curled just a little around her fingers. With a
tug, she ended the kiss and touched the tip of her nose on his. “Your turn.”
Her voice came low and breathy, sounding too far gone for her own good.

“That voice of yours. The second I heard it, I got ideas.”
His fingertip traced along her collarbone to the base of her neck, then moved
slowly downward as his eyes followed the movement. “But when I looked around
the corner and saw you…” His hand flattened under her breast, wrapping his
fingers around her ribcage. He looked into her eyes. “I knew you wanted to kiss
me.”

She laughed. “I think you started it. In your office, you
leaned—” Her phone chimed. She pulled it from her pocket. “It’s my contact.
He’s going to need a couple more hours to try to get the info we need.”

“Perfect.” He stood, holding out his hand to her. “I know
how we’re going to spend those hours.”

Laying her palm on his, that magic jolt rolled through her
again. She stood. “Not on a computer?” Her knees wobbled a bit and she held
tighter.

“Doesn’t sound like the most comfortable of positions, but
if you’re into that kind of kinky...” He wagged his brows at her.

She giggled. Again. Something she hadn’t done for years,
until she met Jackson Walker.

He tugged her closer and guided her along the dock. Lights
set into the edges of the boards guided the way back to shore. “There’s a side
door with stairs up to the bedrooms.”

They moved quickly along the walkway, and between her desire
and her anxiousness, she had a hard time catching her breath.

Wrapping his arm around her, he jostled her a little. “You
okay? You look like you’re walking into a police lineup.”

How did she tell him it’d been a while since the last time?
“I’m good.”

“Hm. Those are not exactly the words a guy wants to hear.”
He stopped, set his hands on her shoulders, and turned her toward him. “If
you’re not sure about this…”