Breaking Bailey's Rules. Brenda Jackson

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СКАЧАТЬ don’t invite outsiders into their fold,” Megan Westmoreland Claiborne said. Rico, her husband, was the private investigator hired by the Westmorelands to find members of their extended family.

      “And I agreed with Rico,” Dillon said. “Claiming kinship is something some people don’t do easily. We’re dealing with relatives whose last name is Outlaw. They had no inkling of a Westmoreland connection until Rico dropped the bomb on them. If the shoe was on the other foot and someone showed up claiming they were related to me, I would be cautious, as well.”

      “Well, I don’t like it,” Bailey said, meeting the gazes of her siblings and cousins.

      “We’ve picked up on that, Bay,” Ramsey Westmoreland, her eldest brother said, pulling her ear. He then switched his gaze to Dillon. “So when is their representative coming?”

      “His name is Walker Rafferty and he’s arriving tomorrow. I thought that would be perfect since everyone is home for Aidan and Jillian’s wedding this weekend. The Atlanta Westmorelands will be here as well, so he’ll get to meet them, too.”

      “What does he intend to find out about us?” Bailey wanted to know.

      “That you, Bane, Adrian and Aidan are no longer hellions,” Stern Westmoreland said, grinning.

      “Go to—” Bailey stopped and glanced at everyone staring at her. “Go wash your face, Stern.”

      “Stop trying to provoke her, Stern,” Dillon said, shaking his head. “Rafferty probably wants to get to know us so he can report back to them that we’re an okay group of people. Don’t take things personally. Like I said, it’s just a precaution on their part.” He paused as if an idea had come to him. “And, Bailey?”

      “Yes?”

      “Since you’re the most apprehensive about Mr. Rafferty’s visit, I want you to pick him up from the airport.”

      “Me?”

      “Yes, you. And I expect you to make a good impression. Remember, you’ll be representing the entire family.”

      “Bailey representing the entire family? The thought of that doesn’t bother you, Dil?” Canyon Westmoreland said, laughing. “We don’t want to scare him off. Hell, she might go ballistic on him if he rubs her the wrong way.”

      “Cut it out, Canyon. Bailey knows how to handle herself and she will make a good impression,” Dillon said, ignoring his family’s skeptical looks. “She’ll do fine.”

      “Thanks for the vote of confidence, Dillon.”

      “You got it, Bailey.”

      * * *

       Bailey knows how to handle herself and she will make a good impression.

      Dillon’s words rang through Bailey’s head as she rushed into the airport fifteen minutes late. And she couldn’t blame her delay on traffic.

      That morning she had been called into her boss’s office to be told she’d been promoted to features editor. That called for a celebration and she’d rushed back to her desk to call her best friend, Josette Carter. Of course Josette had insisted they meet for lunch. And now Bailey was late doing the one thing Dillon had trusted her to do.

      But she refused to accept that she was off to a bad start...even if she was. If Mr. Rafferty’s plane was late it would not hurt her feelings one iota. In fact today she would consider it a blessing.

      She headed toward baggage claim and paused to look at an overhead monitor. Mr. Rafferty’s plane had been on time. Just her luck.

      Upon reaching the luggage carousel for his plane, she glanced around. She had no idea what the man looked like. She had tried looking him up online last night and couldn’t find him. Josette had suggested Bailey make a sign with his name, but Bailey had rolled her eyes at the idea. Now, considering how crowded the airport was, she acknowledged that might have been a good idea.

      Bailey checked out the people retrieving their luggage. She figured the man was probably in his late forties or early fifties. The potbellied, fiftysomething-year-old man who kept glancing at his watch with an anxious expression must be her guy. She was moving in his direction when a deep husky rumble stopped her in her tracks.

      “I believe you’re looking for me, Miss Westmoreland.”

      Bailey turned and her gaze connected with a man who filled her vision. He was tall, but that wasn’t the reason her brain cells had suddenly turned to mush; she was used to tall men. Her brothers and cousins were tall. It was the man’s features. Too handsome for words. She quickly surmised it had to be his eyes that had made her speechless. They were so dark they appeared a midnight blue. Just staring into them made her pulse quicken to a degree that ignited shivers in her stomach.

      And then there was his skin tone—a smooth mahogany. He had a firm jaw and a pair of luscious-looking lips. His hair was cut low and gave him a rugged, sexy look.

      Gathering her wits, she said, “And you are?”

      He held his hand out to her. “Walker Rafferty.”

      She accepted his handshake. It was firm, filled with authority. Those things she expected. What she didn’t expect was the feeling of warmth combined with a jolt of energy that surged through her body. She quickly released his hand.

      “Welcome to Denver, Mr. Rafferty.”

      “Thanks. Walker will do.”

      She tried to keep her pulse from being affected by the throaty sound of his voice. “All right, Walker. And I’m—”

      “Bailey Westmoreland. I know. I recognized you from Facebook.”

      “Really? I looked you up but didn’t find a page for you.”

      “You wouldn’t. I’m probably one of the few who don’t indulge.”

      She couldn’t help wondering what else he didn’t—or did—indulge in, but decided to keep her curiosity to herself. “If you have all your bags, we can go. I’m parked right outside the terminal.”

      “Just lead the way.”

      She did and he moved into step beside her. He was certainly not what she’d expected. And her attraction to him wasn’t expected, either. She usually preferred men who were clean shaven, but there was something about Walker Rafferty’s neatly trimmed beard that appealed to her.

      “So you’re friends with the Outlaws?” she asked as they continued walking.

      “Yes. Garth Outlaw and I have been best friends for as long as I can remember. I’m told by my parents our friendship goes back to the time we were both in diapers.”

      “Really? And how long ago was that?”

      “Close to thirty-five years ago.”

      She nodded. That meant he was eight years older than she was. Or seven, since she had a birthday coming up in a few months.

      “You look just like your picture.”

      She СКАЧАТЬ