Billionaire Rancher Stepbrother Read online

  Table of Contents

  Billionaire Rancher Stepbrother

  About the Book

  Billionaire Rancher Stepbrother: A Novel

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Epilogue

  Author's Note

  The Billionaire Rancher She Married

  Acheron's Woman

  Thornton: Her Moody Billionaire Rancher Boss

  I've been in love with my stepbrother for years, and the whole town knows it.

  Heck, even my own stepfather knows it, and he's totally supportive. There's nothing that stands in the way of our love...or make that my love, since it's my stepbrother himself who's trying to pretend there's nothing between us.

  But there is.

  And I thought, if I waited long enough, if I was patient and sincere enough...I just thought if I loved him hard enough, he would eventually realize he loved me back.

  But he just kept hurting me...just over and over until I was the one who realized the truth.

  My stepbrother is never going to love me back.

  Note: This is a steamy insta-love story with lots of cute moments, flirtatious dialogue, and just enough angst to squeeze out a few tears. No cliffhangers, HEA guaranteed - it's that short, sweet escape you're looking for to temporarily forget reality and lose yourself in a modern-day romance.

  About the Book

  "How does it feel, now that Foxtown's about to be unveiled to the world? Are you excited? Nervous?"

  "I'm looking forward to its launch."

  She couldn't help laughing at his matter-of-fact tone. "You so don't sound like it."

  "Not everyone has to squeal and giggle like you used to do," the billionaire retorted, "to show excitement." A pause. "Or are you still like that now?"

  "Mm." She gave him a mysterious look. "That's a secret."

  "Careful, little Sarah," he murmured. "You know how I am with secrets."

  Her heartbeat spiked up. Was it just her imagination or did he sound like he was flirting with her back there?

  The billionaire arched a brow. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

  And there it was again: a rich, velvety tone that was slowly and sinuously working to make her years-dormant body ache and swell back into life.

  "Don't worry," she managed to say. "Everything's different now. I'm not going to jump on you the first chance I get—-"

  "I won't stop you if you would."

  "Ha. Ha. Ha." Oh God, why was he saying these things?

  "It wasn't a joke."

  Billionaire Rancher Stepbrother: A Novel

  by Marian Tee

  Copyright 2020 by Streak Digital Publishing

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  All characters appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental

  Prologue

  My mom liked to say my stepdad and I were kindred spirits: hearts full of eternal sunshine, balls of steel, skin as thick as a rhino's carcass, and an impulsive streak that was more than a few miles wide.

  Those things, Naomi told me, were what made Josiah propose marriage within three days of meeting her, and those same things, my mom shared with a sigh, were why she had asked him to wait and keep their relationship a secret for three months...times ten.

  When she finally said yes, Josiah proved to be just as rash as she predicted. I had only literally known him for hours when he flew Naomi and me to the mountains of Wyoming in his private jet. The next thing we knew, we had arrived at Jackson Hole's county clerk office, and Josiah had a marriage license in his hand. You're going to be Mrs. Fox at 8AM tomorrow, and you, young lady, will have me as your Bonus Dad. Any objections?

  Naomi had rolled her eyes but soon burst into tears when I threw my arms around my stepdad-to-be and told him I was the luckiest girl in the world. The rest of the evening happily continued in the same vein, and it was only when coffee and desserts were being served that Josiah got a little serious and told me his story.

  I had a privileged childhood, but it was gloomy as hell.

  It was then I found out that while Josiah was a fourth-generation Wyomite, he also happened to be the Earl of Daringford, owing to his great-grandfather's noble blood, and with this lofty title came the tradition of the boys in their family being sent off to boarding school on their seventh year.

  While British by blood, Josiah had the heart of a cowboy, and his biggest mistake was flippantly saying yes to an arranged marriage and thinking it would all work out. But of course it did not.

  Josiah and his haughty aristocrat of a wife had nothing in common, and both of them had only waited until Martha had done her "duty" by giving birth to a son before seeking divorce. Emotions did not exist in Martha's vocabulary, and this was made appallingly evident when his wife also offered to waive all her rights to custody...in exchange for a lifetime of receiving alimony, regardless of whether she married someone else or not.

  He had agreed, of course, but Martha's cold-blooded streak had also made him paranoid about the possibility of his son taking after his ex-wife. To prevent this, Josiah had decided to enroll his son at a local public school instead of Eton, and he had his own ranch hands teach his boy how to ride a horse rather than having him attend a fancy riding school.

  He had done everything he could, Josiah had told us wryly, but somehow, his little boy still ended up the frightfully decent sort. He was a stickler for rules and routines, like the best, uncorrupted version of his mother. He's a good boy, but I don't think he's all that happy. I'm hoping, though, now that you two are joining our family, things will start to change...

  And this time, it was Josiah who had tears in his eyes, and the poignant sight had my mom and I instinctively leaving our seats to give the new man in our lives a big, loving hug. It just felt the right thing to do at that moment, and when Josiah had hugged us back, it was like serendepity blowing me another kiss.

  That was how I liked to think of it, you see. Sometimes, I'd have this feeling, and it would often turn out to be heaven blowing kisses to point me to the right direction. I called this feeling serendipity, and I felt it the first time I met Josiah...and I felt it again the first time my stepbrother's lips touched mine.

  One

  It was half past three in the morning, and The Sherrington's library was the only on-site facility that was still open...and happened to welcome minors like me. The wall-lined shelves were fully stocked, and their fiction selection wasn't bad at all. Even better, they also offered round-the-clock drink service, and I ordered myself a cup of coffee to make sure I was up until seven.

  I'm just going to sleep after the wedding, I decided absently. Lack of sleep was better than showing up late on what was one of the most important days in Mom's life.

  I was already a few chapters in with the latest Pendergast novel when I heard the room attendant murmur a greeting. I glanced up, curious to see what kind of person would also prefer hitting the library rather than going clubbing or drinking at this time of the night (day?)—-

  Oh. My. God.

  I quickly raised my book up to hide my face while peeking over it.

  Tall. Dark. Hand
some.

  I watched the stranger unfold his length into one of the leather recliners after picking a book from the bestseller selection, and another three-word-phrase flashed in my mind.

  Hot. Dude. Reading.

  It was the name of one of my favorite Instagram accounts, and as their handle suggested, its feed was populated by photos of beautiful men reading in public.

  Just like Mr. Recliner.

  I quickly abandoned my seat and transferred to the closest vacant table across him, shameless in my need to gawk more at my new favorite "view". His good looks were emphatically rugged: dark, prominent brows, deep-set eyes, and a chiseled jaw. He was very much a man, the way all the guys I had swiped-left on were not, and I especially loved how deeply bronzed his skin was, which made a line from the Ghostbusters theme song suddenly pop up in my head.

  I'm afraid of no ghost...

  But instead, I found myself silently singing, I'm afraid of no sun, and the rephrased line had me giggling out loud.

  Eep!

  I quickly hid my face behind my book while composing myself, hoping that the sound didn't draw his attention and make him think I was this childish idiot he was better off avoiding. What was wrong with me?

  Unlike most girls my age, I could usually handle myself around the opposite sex, but it wasn't because I was frigid or batted for a different team. The guys I knew just didn't meet my ideal, which until this day, ran more along the lines of beautiful, preppy-looking boys who went for slacks rather than jeans and preferred cars over bikes.

  City-sleek and wholesome, that had always been my type, and Mr. Recliner with his cowboy hat, denim jacket, and boots was anything but.

  And yet...

  I just couldn't stop staring at him, and before I knew it, I already had my phone out.

  Just one photo, I promised myself.

  But before I could hit Click, the room attendant had suddenly blocked my view and flashed me a kind smile as he gestured towards a sign on the wall.

  NO PHOTOS ALLOWED

  Oops!

  I returned his smile sheepishly. "Sorry." I obediently dropped my phone back into my jacket's pocket, but as soon as the waiter moved away, I quickly peeked at Mr. Recliner's direction in hopes that he hadn't noticed my stupid little misstep—-

  What?

  I rubbed my eyes, but the leather recliner he had been occupying earlier remained empty.

  Where did he go?

  It had only been mere seconds - less than a minute, tops - since I last saw him.

  How could he have disappeared so fast?

  I turned around without thinking, feeling a strangely frantic urge to look for him, and the moment I looked behind me, I nearly fell out of my chair.

  Mr. Recliner...had turned into Mr. Chair!

  Or rather, he was suddenly seated on the table behind me, muscular arms crossed over his chest, and his gaze narrowed sharply at my direction.

  "Looking for me?"

  His voice was as perfectly rugged as the rest of him and too impossibly sensual to resist. I found myself playing Musical Chairs all by my lonesome as I moved to my third seat for the night, and I noticed Mr. Recliner's dark brows pleating with a surprised frown when I took a seat across him.

  "Hi." I flashed him a dimpled smile and barely managed to resist the urge to bat my lashes at him. "I'm Sarah." This close, I couldn't help but notice how he was even more gorgeous than I thought possible, with extraordinarily long lashes framing eyes that were the dreamiest shade of blue.

  "Damian." His voice was curt, but his blue eyes had turned strangely watchful, almost if he was waiting for me to react, and I tried not to squirm in my seat as a worrying thought occurred to me. Oh no. What if he was a celebrity, and I had just offended him by not recognizing who he was?

  Think, Sarah, think!

  I started mentally running through the list of famous people I knew, which unfortunately wasn't much since I preferred to spend most of my time with fictional 2D ones. Let's start with A to Z for country singers, Sarah. Could he be the one who sang Old Town Road with Billy Ray Cyrus. What was his name again? Lil...Wayne? Or could he be...a bandmade of Nicole Kidman's husband? That guy sang country, didn't he? And his name was...Kevin...Nash? Garnett? No, wait. That guy was blond, and his name wasn't Kevin, but Keith something—-

  "Shouldn't you be in bed by now?"

  Still in the midst of trying to remember Nicole Kidman's baby daddy's surname, the question completely caught me off guard, and I blurted out the first thing in my mind. "Only if you're in it—-"

  Oh my God, if looks could kill, I would be so, so dead by now!

  "I'm kidding," I said quickly. "Just kidding!"

  He was still scowling at me, but....

  Was that...was he...

  My eyes widened, and I rubbed my eyes again, but it was still there, and there was no mistaking the dark flush that had stained the aristocratic panes of his cheeks.

  Oh my God.

  And almost as if he could read my mind, Damian started glaring at me as well.

  "Did I just—-"

  "Don't even think about it," he warned.

  "Make you blush?"

  "The hell you did."

  "But—-" I pointed gingerly to his cheeks.

  "I've been drinking," he said shortly.

  "Um." I couldn't help casting a dubious look at the tea set on his table, which was as classic as it went, with his porcelain cup filled with Earl Grey tea.

  "Believe what you want," he snapped.

  "Then I believe you like me," I teased.

  His lip curled. "You'd like that, don't you?"

  "Very much."

  "Unfortunately...you're wrong."

  Leaning forward, I whispered, "I think you're lying."

  Damian leaned forward as well, but instead of whispering, he replied in a perfectly succinct voice, "I think you're crazy."

  I barely managed to hold my laughter back. "Oh no." I clutched at my chest as I leaned back against my seat. "I think you just made me fall in love with you."

  And this time, I saw it.

  "Aha!"

  It disappeared as soon as I spoke, of course, but by then it was too late.

  "I know what I saw," I told him smugly, "and I totally made you smile."

  "You're imagining things."

  "No, I'm not." My singsong tone had his lips twitching, but this time I knew better than to point it out. "Do you live around here?" Although I genuinely wanted to know more about him, I was also hoping that little twitch would eventually turn into a smile, which I was willing to bet would be heartbreakingly sexy. "You do, right?"

  He grunted.

  "I'll take that as a yes, and since you live around here, you probably work around here, too, so..." I studied the way he was dressed as I tried to guess what his occupation was. "I'm guessing you do some kind of ranch work?"

  Another grunt, but he also reached for his book at the same time and started making a show of reading it. Too bad for him, though, I was too thick-skinned (and crushing on him too hard) to care. "I don't know much about ranching," I told him, "so if I'm wrong about this, don't laugh—-"

  "No."

  "I haven't—-"

  "Being a cowboy isn't a job title."

  Oh my gosh.

  Did he just read my mind?

  The lengthening silence seemed to prompt Damian into looking up, and he let out an exasperated sound when he saw the way I was staring at him.

  "That's it, you know," I told him seriously. "That's the sign we're meant to be. It's serendipity—-"

  "Oh, for fuck's sake."

  "It is—-"

  "Past your bedtime," he cut me off with a pointed look at my wristwatch. "That's what it is."

  "Stop treating me like a kid," I protested with a pout. "I'm eighteen, not eight."

  "There doesn't appear to be any difference," he retorted, "with the way you're—-" He broke off when I shot out of my seat. "Where—-" He stopped speaking again as I slid into the s
eat next to him and pressed close, enough to have my already straining breasts brush against his arm.

  "There." The breathless note of my voice didn't surprise me at all, considering how hard and fast my heart was beating. "Is there a difference—-"

  "Are you like this with every guy?" Damian gritted out.

  I quickly shook my head, wide-eyed and breathless at the heat suddenly blazing from his eyes.

  "Don't lie," he growled.

  I shook my head again, saying vehemently, "I'm not!" And it was the truth. "I promise—-"

  "So why me?" he demanded roughly.

  "I d-don't know—-"

  Damian cursed under his breath, and I jerked in surprise.

  "I can feel your nipples, dammit." The heat in his eyes smoldered into a sensual blaze as he spoke, and oh God...

  A whimper escaped me as I felt my nipples tighten and poke harder against his arm.

  Oooooh.

  The look in his glittering blue eyes was feral now, and he looked like he wanted to eat me alive.

  "This is fucking crazy, damn you."

  I just kept shaking my head. It was the only thing I felt capable of doing, my mind no longer functioning properly. No guy...just no guy had ever made me feel this way before, and I could barely keep myself still on my seat.

  "Goddammit."

  But even as he kept cursing the situation we found ourselves in, he didn't move away, and I didn't fail to notice the way his nostrils flared the moment he saw me nervously licking my lips. Whether he admitted it or not, he wanted this, too, and the realization made me feel heady and ache in places that had never ached before.

  "Serendipity," I whispered. Heaven had blown me another kiss, and it was pointing to Damian's direction.

  "Fuck serendipity."

  And Damian shot out of his seat, leaving me to gape in surprise as he strode away without even looking back.

  "Wait!"

  But he was already out of the lounge room, and I found myself running after him.

  "Will you please wait?"

  He was angry. That was obvious enough, and while I had a feeling I was the one who made him angry, I had no idea how that happened.