Breaking Bailey's Rules

“They are. But seeing you in person makes a believer out of me.”

She lifted a brow. “Why?”

“You favor Charm, Garth’s sister.”

Bailey nodded. “How old is Charm?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Then, you’re mistaken. I’m three years older so that means she favors me.” Bailey then resumed walking.

* * *

Walker Rafferty kept a tight grip on the handle of his luggage while following Bailey Westmoreland to the parking lot. She was a very attractive woman. He’d known Bailey was a beauty because of her picture. But he hadn’t expected that beauty to affect him with such mind-boggling intensity. It had been a while—years—since he’d been so aware of a woman. And her scent didn’t help. It had such an alluring effect.

“So do you live in Fairbanks?”

He looked at her as they continued walking. Her cocoa-colored face was perfect—all of her features, including a full pair of lips, were holding his attention. The long brown hair that hung around her shoulders made her eyes appear a dark chocolate. “No, I live on Kodiak Island. It’s an hour away from Fairbanks by air.”

She bunched her forehead. “Kodiak Island? Never heard of the place.”

He smiled. “Most people haven’t, although it’s the second largest island in the United States. Anchorage and Fairbanks immediately come to mind when one thinks of Alaska. But Kodiak Island is way prettier than the two of them put together. Only thing is, we have more bears living there than people.”

He could tell by her expression that she thought he was teasing. “Trust me, I’m serious,” he added.

She nodded, but he had a feeling she didn’t believe him. “How do people get off the island?”

“The majority of them use the ferry, but air is most convenient for me. I have a small plane.”

She lifted a brow. “You do?”

“Yes.” There was no need to tell her that he’d learned to fly in the marines. Or that Garth had learned right along with him. What he’d told her earlier was true. He and Garth Outlaw had been friends since their diaper days and had not only gone to school together but had also attended the University of Alaska before doing a stint in the marines. The one thing Garth hadn’t done with Walker was remain with him in California after they left the military. And Garth had tried his hardest to talk Walker out of staying. Too bad he hadn’t listened.

He’d been back in Alaska close to ten years now and he swore he would never leave again. Only Garth could get him off the island this close to November, his son’s birthday month. Had his son lived he would be celebrating his eleventh birthday. Thinking of Connor sent a sharp pain through Walker, one he always endured this time of year.

He kept walking beside Bailey, tossing looks her way. Not only did she have striking features but she had a nice body, as well. She looked pretty damn good in her jeans, boots and short suede jacket.

Deciding to remove his focus from her, he switched it to the weather. Compared to Alaska this time of year, Denver was nice. Too damn nice. He hoped the week here didn’t spoil him.

“Does it snow here often?” he asked, to keep the conversation going. It had gotten quiet. Too quiet. And he was afraid his mind would dwell on just how pretty she was.

“Yes, usually a lot this time of year but our worst days are in February. That’s when practically everything shuts down. But I bet it doesn’t snow here as much as in Alaska.”

He chuckled. “You’d bet right. We have long, extremely cold days. You get used to being snowed in more so than not. If you’re smart, you’ll prepare for it because an abundance of snow is something you can count on.”

“So what do you do on Kodiak Island?” she asked.

They had reached her truck. The vehicle suited her. Although she was definitely feminine, she didn’t come across as the prissy type. He had a feeling Bailey Westmoreland could handle just about anything, including this powerful-looking full-size pickup. He was of the mind that there was something innately sensuous about a woman who drove a truck. Especially a woman who was strikingly sexy when she got out of it.

Knowing she was waiting for an answer to his question, he said, “I own a livestock ranch there. Hemlock Row.”

“A cattle ranch?”

“No, I raise bison. They can hold their own against a bear.”

“I’ve eaten buffalo a few times. It’s good.”

“Any bison from Hemlock Row is the best,” he said, and didn’t care if it sounded as if he was bragging. He had every right to. His family had been in the cattle business for years, but killer bears had almost made them lose everything they had. After his parents’ deaths he’d refused to sell and allow Hemlock Row to become a hunting lodge or a commercial fishing farm.

“Well, you’ll just have to send me some to try.”

“Maybe you’ll get to visit the area one day.”

“Doubt it. I seldom leave Denver,” she said, releasing the lock on the truck door for him.

“Why?”

“Everything I need is right here. I’ve visited relatives in North Carolina, Montana and Atlanta on occasion, and I’ve traveled to the Middle East to visit my cousin Delaney once.”

“She’s the one who’s married to a sheikh, right?” he asked, opening the truck door.

“Jamal was a sheikh. Now he’s king of Tehran. Evidently you’ve done research on the Westmorelands, so why the need to visit us?”

He held her gaze over the top of the truck. “You have a problem with me being here, Bailey?”

“Would it matter if I did?”

“Probably not, but I still want to know how you feel about it.”

He watched her nibble her bottom lip as if considering what he’d said. He couldn’t help studying the shape of her mouth and thinking she definitely had a luscious pair of lips.

“I guess it bothers me that the Outlaws think we’d claim them as relatives if they weren’t,” she said, her words breaking into his thoughts.

“You have to understand their position. To them, the story of some woman giving up her child before dying after a train wreck sounds pretty far out there.”

“As far-out as it might sound, that’s what happened. Besides, all it would take is a DNA test to prove whether or not we’re related. That should be easy enough.”

“Personally, I don’t think that’s the issue. I’ve seen photographs of your brothers and cousins and so have the Outlaws. The resemblance can’t be denied. The Westmorelands and the Outlaws favor too much for you not to be kin.”

“Then, what is the issue and why are you here? If the Outlaws want to acknowledge we’re related but prefer not to have anything to do with us, that’s fine.”

Walker liked her knack for speaking what she thought. “Not all of them feel that way, Bailey. Only Bart.”

“Who’s Bart?” she asked, breaking eye contact with him to get into the truck.

“Bart’s their father,” he answered, getting into the truck, as well. “Bart’s father would have been the baby that was supposedly given to his grandmother, Amelia Outlaw.”

“And Amelia never told any of them the truth about what happened?” Bailey asked, snapping her seat belt around her waist. A waist he couldn’t help notice was pretty small. He could probably wrap his arms around it twice.