“You’re beautiful,” Brock whispered in her ear. His hot kiss had her knees shaking as her body trembled with desire—and he’d only kissed her neck. The man had a mouth on him. She would never get tired of the way he kissed her.
Honestly, he was her family now—well, him, the twins, and Charles. Her sisters had all but disowned her once the house was sold—she’d tried reaching out but they refused to answer her calls. Brock was convinced it was because they couldn’t handle her fame and success.
But she didn’t think of herself that way—even if the world did. The headlines after the ball had been insane: REAL LIFE CINDERELLA FINDS HER PRINCE.
If they only knew what it had taken to get to that place.
She smiled, thinking about the ranch, and all the animals. They were going to spend the next two weeks there.
Charles and the twins were coming by for dinner and then returning to the city. It would be nice to have the family all together.
“You ready?” Brock asked, his eyes dancing with excitement.
“Yup.” She nodded and took his hand as he led her to the waiting limo.
Once they were inside and the car had started toward the ranch, Brock turned to her. He handed her a glass of champagne.
“You left your shoe.”
“Huh?”
Brock grinned. “The first time I saw you, you left a shoe; or actually, you broke a shoe.”
“Like Cinderella.” She grinned.
“Yes.” He held up his hand then reached behind him and pulled something out of a bag.
Jane gasped. “That’s my black shoe!”
“Size eight and a half black pump. Yes, it sure is.”
“You kept it?” Her eyes filled with tears. “Why?”
He smirked. “I’d like to say it’s because I knew this moment was happening and I wanted to get laid in the back of a limo.”
She smacked him in the chest.
“But I was cleaning out the closet, and found it. I’d stashed it there after I’d slept with it like a complete ass and dreamed about your hair.”
Jane sighed happily. “That’s romantic.”
“There is nothing romantic about sleeping with a stiletto.” He grinned. “But maybe this will make up for it.” He handed her the shoe.
Inside was a small pale blue box.
Tears filled her eyes as she grabbed the box and slowly opened it.
A giant, princess-cut diamond shimmered back at her.
It was huge.
Bigger than her fist.
Okay, maybe not that big, but at least a few karats. She swallowed a lump in her throat as Brock pulled the ring from the box and whispered. “You left your shoe, and took my heart with you that night, and you’ve had it ever since… Will you marry me?”
“Yes!” Tears streamed down her face as she threw her arms around his neck and sobbed.
The limo came to a stop and then the doors were opening on all sides.
“Thank God!” Bentley shouted, shoving his way into the limo. He looked like he was already drunk. An expression of pure irritation marred his features before he straightened and said, “If you didn’t hurry I was going to propose.” He licked his lips and winked at Jane. “Someone’s looking good.” His smile looked forced—it didn’t help that his normally perfect features were marred by dark circles under his eyes.
Brock groaned.
Brant piled in next, followed by Charles.
“Champagne for everyone!” Brant shouted while Charles chuckled and kissed her on the cheek.
“You guys all knew?” she said accusingly.
“I wrote his speech,” Bentley claimed, stealing the champagne from Brant.
“He lies,” Brant yawned. “Also, the cock died.”
All talking ceased in the limo.
“Because it crossed the road.” Brant burst out laughing. “Yeah, I may be drunk already.”
Well, that explained things. Somewhat.
No matter what the twins did, they were always still getting into trouble, though Bentley had been worse lately, and constantly in the papers for sleeping with married women.
His last conquest had been a senator’s wife.
Something was going on with Bentley, but every time she asked Brock about it, it just seemed to make him sad, like his brother had finally lost it. And Brock and Bentley were doing anything they could to get Brant out of the house and smiling again.
Which was another problem.
Brant had stopped smiling.
So while one twin was trying to cheer the other up and was most likely in the process of gaining a free first class ticket to the fires of hell—the other shut everyone out.
Jane focused on both of the twins and said softly, “You two should really stop day drinking.”
“Fuck that,” Bentley slurred. His eyes were cold when he glanced at Jane, and it sent a chill down her spine. This wasn’t the Bentley she knew. The Bentley she knew didn’t have a dark or menacing bone in his body. “Sometimes a man just needs to forget, right, Brant?”