Brant clenched his jaw and clinked glasses with his twin while Charles sent Brock a worried look.
“Boys,” Charles said in serious voice. “Don’t be jackasses. Why, look what happened to Brock. You don’t want to force my hand—or Nadine’s.”
“Brock’s the happiest he’s ever been,” Bentley pointed out. “If I thought that my date would end up half as good I’d get my ass out of bed and actually do something worthwhile.”
“Here, here.” Brant laughed and leaned against the door like he needed it to help hold him up.
“Besides, nothing wrong with a little ass!” Bentley shouted. “Damn, I miss that donkey.”
Jane couldn’t hold back her laugh. “You know your family’s insane, right?”
“You love them.”
“I do.”
“And I love you.” He kissed her cheek. “So much.”
* * *
Brock walked around the grounds at the ranch, his thoughts scattered as he welcomed the memories of his parents. For so long he’d refused to deal with them. The ghosts terrified him, haunted him, and rather than deal with his memories, he’d allowed the fear of them to define his life.
But pain demanded to be discussed, memories demanded to be remembered.
Jane, a few feet ahead of him, was smiling up at the sky as she looked over her shoulder and gave him a wink.
God, she was perfect.
So perfect.
His father would have loved her.
His mother as well.
He’d grown up with so much laughter, so much emotion that, until now, he had no idea he’d forsaken.
“Brock!” Jane jogged toward him. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”
He stared into her chocolate brown eyes as the wind around them picked up. Chills ran down his arms as he continued to stare, and on that wind, a whisper called. “Welcome Home.”
“Yeah.” He nodded. “I’m the best I’ve ever been.”
“Even with the twins at the ranch? And your grandfather having an affair with Nadine?”
“Shh, don’t ruin the moment,” he scolded, molding his mouth around hers. “Let’s just kiss and forget about the chaos of my family.”
“Right.” She kissed him back. “Because that’s an easy task.”
Just then a loud voice shouted, “No sex in the pasture!”
“Bentley,” Brock said his name like a curse. “We really need to get him married off.”
She sighed and wrapped her arms around his neck. “Have I told you I adore you?”
“I have a better idea,” he smiled wickedly. “Show me.”
Please keep reading for a preview of the next book in the series
The Playboy Bachelor!
Chapter One
Present Day
Bentley groaned as the woman, whose name he’d already forgotten a few hours ago, spread her toned thighs over his body and rode him. The scent of her vanilla lotion clung to the air as he slid his hands up and down her hips.
She was just another nameless face.
Another willing female in a long list of women who wanted to have a piece of the notorious playboy Bentley Wellington.
Because that’s all he was to her—all he was to anyone. And most of the time? He was completely okay with it—he had to be. A familiar tightening threatened to choke him and completely ruin his morning. He feigned boredom.
And covered his yawn with his hand as she started to increase her speed, her breath coming out in small fake pants that had him sporting a bored grin, as if to say is that the best you can do? She woke him up? For this?
Her seething glare said it all.
He was a jackass.
Then again, it wasn’t like she hadn’t been painfully aware how much of a player he was. With a smug-as-hell smirk, he winked. “That the best you can do, Sarah?”
“It’s Christine!” She smacked his chest and panted as she rode him harder, her skin slapping against his in a way that should have felt good but instead irritated the hell out of him. “You’re a complete asshole!”
He gripped her hips and quickened her movements with deep thrusts. “But…” Another punishing thrust. “I’m a handsome asshole.” Her lips parted on a moan as he leaned up and finished what she’d started. “Right?”
“The last thing you need,” she said in a breathy whisper, “is for me to stroke your ego.”
“Aw.” He made a face and pulled free from her body. Bored. Angry that she was speaking. And maybe a little bit sick of himself, if he was being completely honest. “Play fair. I’m always in the mood for a good stroking.”
Her bright blue eyes flashed before she rolled off his sweaty body and out of the bed. “I’m leaving.”