Cal snapped open the box. The two-carat solitaire was classic, pristine, and elegant. It shimmered with pure beauty. Just like his future wife.
If she said yes.
She reached out to touch the ring with a trembling finger. "Goodness gracious," she whispered. "You want to marry me? And build me a house?"
"Build us a house. Princess, my knee is getting a little tired. Are you going to give me an answer?"
"Oh! Yes! My answer is yes, yes, yes." She jumped in his arms and he fell off balance, tumbling back into the grass. She climbed on top of him, pressing kisses all over his face, and they laughed together, rolling over the land that belonged to them and held their future.
"Welcome home, baby."
Samuel Dyken clasped his hands and rested them on the mahogany conference table. A thick stack of papers lay in front of him. A glass of water rested to his right. The same gold-embossed pen lay neatly on the left. His suit was black and tailored perfectly.
Cal and his brothers sat around the table. One year. It had gone so fast. They'd met again as strangers, at odds and in pain. Now they had managed to heal the brokenness and grown stronger. They were once again brothers.
"Gentlemen, congratulations. You've achieved the goal to the exact terms of your father's will. Your profit margin was slim but impressive considering the setbacks you had on top of being forced to start at ground zero. Pierce Brothers will revert back to you in equal shares, effective immediately."
Cal shared a look with Dalton and Tristan. Pride etched their features.
"Now, it's up to you if you'd like to sell out your shares," Dyken continued. "You're no longer required to live in the family house. I'll be happy to help you with any further paperwork needed. For now, I'll let you discuss a bit. When you're done, please see Tricia, my secretary, and she'll set up an appointment. Congratulations."
They thanked Dyken, and the door closed behind him.
Dalton let out a breath. "We did it. Who would've thought?"
Tristan leaned back in the chair and grinned. "Hell, that felt good. We did this without Dad. We actually worked together. And we made a damn profit."
"I had no doubts," Cal said.
Dalton rolled his eyes. "Sure, bro."
Cal studied the polished sheen of mahogany and gathered his courage. "I guess it's time to talk about what happens next."
"What do you mean?" Tristan demanded.
Cal studied his brothers. "Well, Dalton told me he was going back to California. And, Tristan, you threatened to take the company from me."
Dalton stood up from his chair. "Are we going back to this bullshit, Cal? Now that Pierce Brothers is safe, you want to push us out?"
Tristan jabbed a finger in the air, face contorted with anger. "I thought we agreed on what we were going to do with this company! We talked about a vision. You son of a bitch, are you backing out on everything we agreed on?"
"No! I want you to stay, okay? I don't want to run this company alone anymore. I want to run it side by side with my pain-in-the-ass brothers and make it great on our terms. I want to hang out with you on weekends, and watch the ball game, and make fun of Tristan's sissy wine, and rag on Dalton about his man-whore ways. I want you to stay right here in Harrington so you can be my best men for the wedding. I want you to help me build our dream house."
Dalton's mouth dropped open. "You guys are getting married?"
"Yes. For some reason, she said yes. I have to move fast before she realizes I'm not good enough for her."
"Ain't that the truth," Tristan muttered.
"Well? What do you say? Do we do this together?"
Dalton nodded. "I'm staying."
"So am I," Tristan said.
They grinned at one another.
"This calls for a celebration, boys," Cal said. "My Place?"
"Sounds good. Hopefully Hot Girl will be there," Dalton commented.
"Let's go pick up Morgan so she can join us. Congratulations, buddy. About time someone tamed your asshole ways," Tristan teased.
Cal walked out of the conference room with his brothers at his side and a smile on his face. He knew the road ahead wouldn't be smooth. No, there'd be twisted paths and dead ends. There'd be fighting and messy emotions. But there'd also be loyalty, and trust, and joy. Love.
And home.