by Ember Cole
They say I’m Texas royalty.
Well, this princess needs a damn break.
And an orgasm or ten.
Which is why I’m standing on the doorstep of Broken Creek Ranch in the middle of a thunderstorm, determined to ditch my virginity before my father marries me off to one of his filthy rich business partners.
My plan? Pick one of the Maddox brothers to do the deed.
But that was before I came face to face with seven of the sexiest men I’ve ever seen.
I’m desperately attracted to each of them. Even oldest brother, Vance, who’s dead set against my plan. He says I’m too young. Too innocent.
Whatever.
Fortunately, his brothers invite me to stay and play before choosing who will take my innocence, but how can I pick? More importantly, will I even get the chance? Because there’s no way my father’s going to let me go…
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. References to actual persons, living or dead, is not intended or inferred.
Copyright © 2018 by Ember Cole. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means.
For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact [email protected].
Cover images by
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Geber86/Getty Images
Manufactured in the United States of America
First Edition June 2018
For B. You’re a star.
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1
VANCE
“I can’t believe it’s over,” Memphis grumbles, downing the rest of his whiskey.
My brother’s words are a little slurred, but his complaining is nothing new. He’s been campaigning for months to keep our ranch open to the public. Now that the last tourists have left, the support staff has been let go with generous severance packages, and the seven of us Maddox brothers are back to running a family ranch again, he’s straight-up pissed.
I lean back in my chair and take a pull of my beer. He’ll be back to normal by the time the whiskey wears off, joking and thinking up crazy shit to pull the rest of us into. He’s the life of the party, the comic relief. Something we’ve desperately needed these past five years.
After our parents died, the seven of us found ourselves the owners of a failing cattle ranch and a mountain of bills. The only thing that mattered was keeping our family legacy out of the hands of the bank and shady investors looking to buy land like ours on the cheap. Within weeks, we’d converted our cattle ranch into a family-friendly country experience.
The venture brought in just enough money to pay the bills, but within a few months of opening our doors to the public, it became clear that a lot of wealthy people were willing to pay obscene amounts of money to enjoy the Old West flavor of the ranch…and the privacy we provided.
Memphis plunks his empty glass on the scarred kitchen table. “Why the hell would we want to close up shop now? Fucking insane.”
A couple of my brothers nod in agreement, including Memphis’s twin, Greyson. The decision to close Broken Creek wasn’t unanimous, and the twins were the loudest opposition. At twenty-three, Memphis and Greyson still have plenty of wild oats left to sow, and the steady stream of guests—and pretty women—we’d drawn kept the boys plenty busy.
See, word got out that Broken Creek was the perfect place for a discreet fling. Older men and their much younger mistresses, bachelorettes looking for a good time, spring breakers, postdivorce middle-aged women finding their libidos again… Empty sex, all of it.
We hadn’t been immune. Some less than others. We’re young, red-blooded Maddox men with sex drives to match. The luster wore off pretty quick, though—for me and the older guys, anyway. The twins would’ve been content to keep going on as we have been, and I’m sure there are a healthy number of women who make regular trips to see the twins that are equally disappointed.
When Memphis makes to bitch again, Tanner chucks a wadded-up piece of paper at him. “Shut up, Memphis,” he says, turning back to his sketch pad. “Nobody took away your dick. There are plenty of desperate women willing to settle for you and Greyson.”
Even though he’s only three years older than the twins, Tanner has always been an old man. He’s finishing his freshman year at the local art school, having saved enough money to get his degree. He’s had one foot out of this life for a long time. With his poet’s soul, big Maddox build, and the deep blue eyes we all share, he’d been just as popular with the ladies as the twins. But he, like most of us, preferred not to fuck the guests.
“You and Greyson can do what you want,” Jesse points out, calm and reasonable as always. “There’s nothing preventing you two from screwing as many women as you want. Install a damn revolving door if it’s easier. Just do it at your own place.”
“It’s not the same,” Memphis says, thumping his empty glass and slumping in his chair, shirtless, as usual. The guy has some weird aversion to clothing. “We’re a team, you know? Seven brothers. Has a ring to it.”
Greyson nods. “It’s a thing.”
“Get a new thing,” Jackson says. “We voted. You, Memphis, and Reed lost. Majority rules.”
Jackson has already made peace with things and moved on, having accepted a job in North Carolina. He’s packed and leaving in the morning. The first of us to fly away.
“Because you fuckers are pussies,” Reed says, shoving out of his chair to stalk around the room, his slight limp more prominent tonight. Stormy weather makes his ruined joints ache. “Mom and Dad left the ranch to all of us. I don’t know why some of you get to ruin shit for the rest of us.”
Of all the “no” votes, Reed’s had been the loudest. Even louder than the twins. His fiery, passionate nature always has him running full throttle on everything in his life. In high school when he played ball and made the all-state team, then later when he joined the military and distinguished himself in battle.
It was just dumb luck that he’d been injured while filling in on a routine patrol for one of his buddies and managed to walk into a land mine. After his recovery, he’d come home to join Jesse, Tanner, Jackson, and me and help run the ranch.
I think it saved him. He found a purpose in rescuing the ranch from ruin. It gave him something to focus on other than everything he’d lost—our parents, his military career, the camaraderie he’d shared with this men. His goal of going into Special Forces. And now that the ranch is safe and his mission is at an end, he’s lost again.
“It’s done,” I say from my spot at the head of Mom’s kitchen table where we’ve shared a thousand meals together over the years, a thousand hangovers, a thousand worries after our parents passed. It had fallen on my shoulders as the oldest to set the ship to rights and take care of my brothers. There was no way I was leaving my orphaned brothers to fend for themselves.
Besides, it’s my fault our parents are dead.
Maybe Dad wouldn’t have approved of transforming the ranch into a tourist trap, but the bottom line was that after five years of hard work, all six of my younger brothers are healthy and debt-free, and have a chance to make their lives whatever they want. It was the least I could do for them.
I look around the table at
each of my brothers. Their broad shoulders, high, sharp cheekbones—evidence of our mother’s distant Native American ancestors—and of course the bright Maddox blue eyes, are as familiar as my own reflection in the mirror. Will we ever gather around this table like this again, all seven of us, now that we’ll be going our separate ways? Like all brothers, we fight and swear at one another, laugh, worry, and yell. But it’s all good.
And it’s all ending.
For the first time, a wave of doubt over what had ultimately been my decision tightens my throat, and I swallow hard. I’m losing my family all over again, and it sucks. But I’m thirty years old. The boys are all grown men now and don’t need me. It’s time to pack up my guilt over our parents and figure out what the fuck to do with the rest of my life.
Something is missing. Has been for a long time. I just don’t know what it is.
Lightning flashes outside the kitchen windowpanes, silhouetting copses of trees in our backyard. Thunder rolls low and deep in the distance, shaking the old wooden floorboards beneath my feet and the empty whiskey glasses on the table.
Except for the faint scratching of Tanner’s charcoal pencil on his sketch pad, we are silent, each of us lost in his own thoughts. Probably similar thoughts. Because no matter how each man voted, the truth is, things are about to change in a big way for all of us.
Rain pelts the windows, breaking the temporary truce. I rise from the table, pushing my chair back and stretching. Time to turn the page.
“Turn off the lights when you’re done with your bitching and moaning,” I say to Memphis. “You need a ride to the airport in the morning, Jackson?”
He grins at me. “No, I’ve got it. Thanks, Vance. For everything.”
I nod and head out of the kitchen toward the stairs that wind to the second floor of the old ranch house, where we each have our own bedroom. Dad expanded the homestead after every son his wife delivered…until the twins surprised them both and Mom announced she was done.
I’ll miss this old house, but it’ll be in Jesse’s capable hands from now on. Memphis and Greyson are staying to help with the cattle. Tanner is only sticking around until he finishes school. Jackson’s on a plane first thing tomorrow morning. God only knows where Reed will end up.
Now that I’ve closed down the tourist side of the business, I’m free to go, too. I’m just not sure where I want to go. Nothing I’ve come up with feels right.
Being at loose ends is driving me fucking insane.
The rain is coming down in torrents now, pinging off the metal roof of the front porch. The wind is roaring through the trees that line the walkway to the front door, their boughs sighing and creaking under the pressure. I’m bone weary, but as I mount the first step on the way to my bed, I hear something at the front door. Tapping at first, then pounding.
What kind of damn idiot would be out in a storm like this? And in the middle of the night? I flip on the porch light and open the door to the wind and rain. A drenched bundle of yellow rain slicker blows through, crashing into me. I barely have time to regain my balance before it becomes apparent that the bundle is a woman. A wet, bedraggled woman, half drowned from the storm and dripping all over my front entry.
I disentangle myself from her and slam the door. My shirt and jeans are soaked with rain, as if I’d been out in the storm with her.
“Oh, gosh. I’m so sorry,” she says, pushing the oversize hood of her slicker back.
Bright green eyes framed by wet black lashes steal my breath for a second. Pale, nearly translucent skin, pink lips, plump and begging to be tasted, quicken my pulse. A smatter of light freckles across the bridge of her nose and curling tendrils of red hair, clinging to the sides of her slender face in wet ribbons, make my mouth go dry.
Lust. Deep, thrumming, instantaneous lust hits me in the gut. And in the dick.
She’s young. Early twenties at best. And there’s something about her that’s familiar. Jesus. Thoughts about what I want to do to her slam through my brain. Raw, dirty things that would most likely break someone as young and innocent as her.
She shoves the wet hair back from her face and chews at her lip as she looks up at me. Way up. She barely reaches my shoulders. “Um, I’m looking for the Broken Creek ranch?” Her eyes slide away, inspecting her surroundings.
Even though some of the downstairs areas were open to our guests, we’ve kept it as it always has been: the same entryway table my mother inherited from her mother, the old pictures on the wall of scenes from the ranch’s past, creaky wooden floors polished to a shine, a shelf with ceramic knickknacks collected over decades of my parents’ life together.
Her eyes dart back to mine. “Am I in the right place?”
Still a little stunned, I finally realize she expects an answer.
“Yes,” I say, then correct myself. “Actually, no. The resort is closed.”
Jesse steps into the entryway. “What’s going on?” he asks, his eyes darting back and forth between me and the slip of a girl dripping rainwater all over our floor. “Who’s this?”
The girl turns to him. “Amelie.” She takes a deep breath. “Amelie Carter.”
Fuck. Me.
“You’re Hank Carter’s daughter,” I say flatly.
Jesse’s eyes go wide.
Now I know why she looks familiar. Hank Carter owns the biggest oil field in this part of the state and uses his money and influence to get whatever he wants. He was one of the coyotes who tried to swindle us out of our family ranch after Mom and Dad passed and hadn’t been happy about my telling him to go to hell. Turns out I’d wrecked the deal he had with a developer to turn the ranch into acres of cookie-cutter McMansions. Every time he has an opportunity to make our lives harder by leaning on local officials to perform surprise inspections, or file bullshit lawsuits about anything from our tax classification to water rights, he does it.
And the only thing he loves more than making trouble for us Maddox brothers is his only daughter.
I’ve seen the pictures in the paper of her at society events with the governor’s son and attending the weddings of senators’ daughters as maid of honor.
This girl is fucking Texas royalty.
I make for the door, tugging her along with me. “You need to go home. Wait. Why the hell are you out walking around in this storm?”
She plants her feet and stands her ground, glaring up at me even as those big green eyes of hers glaze over. “My car got stuck about a mile down the road, and I’m not going home.” There’s a stubborn set to her jaw, despite the slight tremble.
“Yes, you are.” The last thing I need is for Hank Carter to find out his barely twenty-year-old daughter is here and make even more trouble for us. He’d probably accuse us of kidnapping her or some bullshit. “C’mon. I’ll drive you into town and you can call your father to come pick you up. Where’s your cell phone?” I ask, looking her over. She’s not carrying much with her.
Her gaze darts from me to Jesse and back again. “I left it in my car. Which is down the road.”
Jesus. “What’s wrong with your car?” I ask, digging through the dusty work jackets hanging by the door to find mine. “Never mind. Don’t answer that.” I shake my head to clear out the chaotic thoughts assaulting my brain. I should not be worried about this girl. “Whatever you did, I’m sure your father will forgive you. And probably buy you a shiny new convertible if you ask real nice.”
Jesse cocks an eyebrow. I’m usually not such a dick, but she doesn’t belong here. He and I both know what kind of hell this could rain down on the ranch. She’s trouble with a capital T, and that’s the last thing we need. I have to get her out of here and back where she belongs immediately.
Reed, Tanner, Jackson, Memphis, and Greyson have gathered behind Jesse, staring at the stranger in our entryway.
“Straggler?” Memphis asks hopefully, his gaze roaming over Amelie. His dark mood is gone, the prospect of a new plaything lighting his eyes. I know what thoughts are running through his mind. Beca
use they’re running through mine, too.
“This is Hank Carter’s daughter, and she’s leaving,” I snap at him.
“No, I’m not.” Her mouth is tight, determined.
Reed shoulders past the crowd to stand directly in front of her. He tips her chin up, like he’s about to fucking kiss her. “Did someone hurt you?” he asks, his voice low, practically a growl. “Is that why you can’t go back?”
A pink blush spreads across her pale cheeks. So innocent. So goddamn innocent. Her eyes skitter over the group of us. We are an intimidating bunch. All well over six feet tall and muscular, big personalities, loud voices.
“No, not exactly,” she says. Not yet, I think I hear her add under her breath. Her eyes flicker to me. “But I can’t go home.”
There’s something there, deep in her wide gaze, that punches me in the gut. She’s looking at me like I’m her white knight or something. And dammit if I don’t want to be that for her in that moment. It doesn’t make sense, especially because of who she is, but I want to protect her. Make sure whatever it is that drove her out into a fucking lightning storm to find us can’t hurt her.
Just as the promise is forming in my stupid, lust-addled brain, she turns to look at my brothers, eyeing them one by one. If the blush spreading across her pale cheeks is any indication, she likes what she sees. Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, and the possessive beast inside me breaks free.
“Amelie,” I bark. I don’t like the way she’s eye-fucking my brothers. And I certainly don’t like the way they’re looking at her. “What the hell are you doing here?”
She squares off with me again, her eyes pleading but resolute. “I need your help.”
“Anything,” Jesse says. His voice is gentle, but there’s steel behind it. She’s the kind of woman a man fights to protect. All she has to do is ask. “What is it?”
She takes a deep, shaky breath, then pins me with that gaze, as if we’re they only two people in the room. “I need you to take my virginity.”
