by Holly Rayner
“What?” he asked again, apparently completely stunned.
“No… way.” London grabbed Leyla’s free hand and stared down at her belly. “Since when?”
“I went to the doctor on Friday. She said about five weeks.”
“You’re pregnant.” Kane laughed in disbelief. “A baby. We’re having a baby?”
“Yeah.” Leyla joined in with her own giggles.
The next thing she knew, she was in the middle of a group hug, Sharkie on the floor between their feet.
“Careful,” London chastised. “She’s delicate.”
“I’m okay,” Leyla said. “Hugs are fine. But I won’t be doing things like drinking at clubs for a while. That’s why I didn’t answer you right away.” She thought on it some. “I’m not sure about horseback riding, either. I want to be careful.”
“Understandable.” London gave her another squeeze, though she was careful of the belly area. “You sit down. We’ll finish breakfast.”
“Nope,” Leyla said. “I can still do normal stuff, and I still want to.”
“But you’re doing everything for two, now.” She pointed a spatula at Leyla.
They finished up breakfast, though no one would let Leyla reach into a high cabinet or lift anything heavier than a mixing bowl. Every few minutes, she caught Kane watching her with a dreamy smile on his face. Without fail, it warmed her heart each time.
Their few talks about kids had always made it a “one day” thing. Well, it looked like that day had arrived.
Leyla wondered if she should feel nervous or overwhelmed with her career and motherhood taking off at the same time. Looking around the kitchen, though, at what was only a fraction of her support group, she felt anything but.
She felt empowered. Loved.
Look at me, Mom. You’d be so happy.
Somehow, she knew that her mother really was happy. From wherever she was in the universe, she looked down on her only daughter with a smile.
At least half of breakfast was spent coming up with baby names, while the other half was spent discussing how life might change after Leyla’s two movies came out.
“It won’t be that different.” Leyla shrugged.
“Please.” London poured herself another cup of coffee. “A year from now, you’ll be a Hollywood star. Just watch.”’
Leyla blushed. All she’d ever wanted was to be a full-time actress working on projects she loved. Fame was never a requisite.
The last year had taught her to take attention in stride, though. She’d managed to get out of the DeHaan contract, but she and Kane were still noticed about half the time they went out in Austin. And then there was the madhouse that was Sharrain…
Breakfast over, they piled the dishes into the dishwasher and got ready to head to the stables. Sharkie spun in circles, excited to check in on his favorite horse friends.
As Leyla pulled on her boots in the mudroom, Kane touched her waist.
“Mm-hmm?” Looking up at him, she swept hair from her face.
“I just wanted a moment alone with my wife.” He wrapped his arms around her. “To celebrate one of the best days ever.”
“I’m not going to complain about that.”
Trick, London, and Sharkie had already gone outside. Since they were so comfortable with the land, Trick having ridden there for years, they didn’t need anyone to hold their hands.
“I can’t believe it.” He put his hand on her belly. His large palm looked gigantic there.
“I know, right? Do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl?”
“I don’t even want to guess. Is it too cliché to say I only want the baby to be healthy?”
“No. Not at all.”
“You know what I do wonder?” He ran his fingers through her hair.
“Mm. What?”
“If they’ll follow in my footsteps, or yours.” Kane chuckled low. “Will they embrace a royal life in Sharrain, or become heir to the oil throne?”
“Maybe neither.” She drew back and locked eyes with him. “Maybe a little of both. Maybe they’ll embrace their heritage but also chart their own path, like their parents. You know, blend the old and the new.”
“I like the sound of that.”
“You ready to go outside?” She took a step toward the door, but kept her hand in Kane’s so that they had to stretch their arms to remain touching.
“Is that where you’re going?” he asked flirtatiously.
“Sure is.” She paused, hand on the doorknob. “Oh, and Kane?”
“Yes?” he asked.
Leyla winked. “Wear the white Stetson, cowboy.”
The End
I hope you’ve enjoyed Kane and Leyla’s story! In case you missed it, keep reading for the first chapter of the previous book in my Billionaire Cowboys series, My Bestie’s Brother
Happy reading!
Holly x
My Bestie's Brother
Chapter 1
Chrissy
I breathed out slowly and intentionally, letting the air pass my lips in a hiss—and thanked the good Lord above me that I was alone in my apartment, rather than in a coffee shop or restaurant.
The letter I was holding in my hand wasn’t the sort you wanted to read when there were other people around to notice the look on your face. Or even the words you were muttering to yourself under your breath. No, those looks—and those words—were definitely better handled when you were by yourself. Especially when you were a well-behaved Southern belle.
Well. When you were supposed to be a well-behaved Southern belle.
“Goddammit,” I muttered, throwing the letter down on my desk.
Hey, I tried to be well-behaved when I was in public. And I never cursed out there in the real world. But here in my own house, I let my guard down. Especially when I’d just finished reading yet another letter where yet another freaking investor had passed up on investing in my current pet project.
“It’s just not our cup of tea, I’m afraid, but we wish you all the best and expect to see big things from you in the future,” I mimicked, tipping my head back and forth in what could only be called snarky, bitter sarcasm.
I wrinkled my nose. I wasn’t normally so snarky. Or so sarcastic. Well… I tried not to be. I wasn’t always successful, there—but at least I tried. But the mail from today was tap-dancing on my last nerve, and I was starting to lose my cool. Okay, that was another lie. I had lost my cool about three letters ago. I was downright hot under the collar at this point.
The problem was the mail had brought me nothing but bad news lately. Really bad news. Investor after investor who wasn’t interested in my newest idea, and even a bank thrown in for good measure, with a polite note that said thanks but no thanks, we’re really not into the idea of loaning you any money for this newest venture.
It wasn’t the venture’s fault. It was a solid idea, and I knew it. One of my more solid ideas, to be honest. Possibly even the best one yet, and definitely the one that had run through the most development.
After a run of not-so-solid ideas—a drive-through salad bar that also delivered, a website that would help you identify the plant you were looking at so you could buy it for your own garden, and even a specialty hobby shop where you could go in and learn to do any of a number of hobbies—this one, I thought, actually had a chance of succeeding.
This was the one I’d been dreaming of my entire life. The one that I’d actually done the most research on. I’d gone into it with the idea that it was my golden egg, the thing that would finally put me on the map, and as such, I’d given it a whole lot more time and effort than I had the other stuff.
I mean how difficult is it, really, to develop the idea for a drive-through salad bar? You prepare the greenery and keep it cold. You wait for people to drive up. You take their order, make their salad, and send them home with their healthier-than-a-hamburger-and-fries dinner. It was every healthy girl’s dream. Every vegetarian’s idea of pure Heaven. But it wasn’t difficult as far as pr
ocess.
But for this idea—the one I was calling Dream Face—I’d known there would be more work involved. Research and development. Labs. Distributors—of both the goods we were going to use and the goods we were going to sell. Marketing and advertising and publicity. Making sure we had the right influencers on our side. Making sure we had the right sorts of social media accounts, and the right people running them.
And the models. Making sure we were on the runways and in the magazines. And in the cities when those models went out in public to get their nonfat soy lattes and green juice something-or-others.
We needed to be seen with—on—all the right people.
A brand-new makeup brand, based on the idea that women didn’t want to put harsh chemicals and substances with unpronounceable names on their faces. Makeup that was all-natural, environmentally friendly, and cruelty-free, not to mention absolutely beautiful. Stuff that was also partially customizable, so people could make their own personal colors.
Yeah, it was going to take a ton of work, but I was positive that it was the wave of the future. Being able to decide on your own perfect color, are you kidding? Being able to finally create the perfect pinky nude lipstick—the one that would sit on your lips like second skin, rather than looking like you’d painted your lips with a popsicle?
It was brilliant. It was the way the industry was going to go.
Look, I’d been wearing makeup since I was thirteen, and at twenty-five, I thought I had a pretty damn good idea of what worked and what didn’t. What women would like and what they wouldn’t. What they’d spend money on.
I was also smart, and had beta-tested the idea with about a hundred women. Every one of them agreed that they would practically sell their soul to be able to design the perfect lipstick color and combine it with an equally perfect blush color. If they weren’t into makeup, they could make the perfect moisturizer instead.
Heck, they could design a lip balm that didn’t smell or taste like any other lip balm out there, and order as many tubes of it as they wanted.
I’m telling you, it was a genius idea. Serious Einstein-level brilliance, right there.
Unfortunately, the angel investors I’d been talking to were of a different opinion. They didn’t think I knew what I was talking about—and they didn’t agree that this was the wave of the future. Or, rather… Well, I guessed it was more that they didn’t agree that it would make them much money. And after all, that was what investors were after, wasn’t it? The money they’d make? The pot of gold at the end of the rainbow?
“Shoot.” I threw myself back in my chair, intentionally taking my eyes away from the stack of rejection letters. I hadn’t felt so down on myself since…
Well, since the last bout of rejection letters, I guessed, which had been over that same salad bar idea. That pile had been twice as big. But if I was being honest with myself, it had only hurt about half as much.
Dream Face was my destiny. It was my dream. I’d put so much time and effort into it that I didn’t know how to handle the idea that it might not work. It felt a whole lot like the world had just fallen out from under my feet, and I’d been left hanging in midair, completely devoid of any sort of parachuting device.
It felt a lot like some part of me had just been ripped away and thrown right into the garbage.
I took a moment to close my eyes and try to center myself, reminding myself of all the good that was out there in the world. All the things I could have, if only I could harness the creative part of myself—which often got out of control—and make it work for me. Bring one of my ideas to fruition, so I could find some stability.
Like any good Southern girl, I’d been raised with a couple of very specific goals. I wanted it all. I wanted to find my Prince Charming, settle down, and have a family. Enjoy the slow, consistent burn that came with finding your one true love and walking through life with him.
But first, I wanted a career. A career that was all my own, and that let me follow my dreams.
And I knew myself well enough to know that until I accomplished the latter, I was never going to be able to find the former.
At the thought of all that stuff, though—the family, the career, the slow burn—I remembered suddenly that I didn’t have time to be sitting here daydreaming. Or mentally writing angry letters to every single investor who had turned me down, which was honestly closer to the truth.
I didn’t even have time to sit here and pout about the pile of rejection letters in front of me.
I had a birthday party to attend. And if I was lucky, that party would do exactly what sitting here moping around would never do: get me over this hump, out of this slump, and away from the jaded, disillusioned feeling that was starting to overpower my usual enthusiasm for life. Away from this latest failure, and the creeping idea that I just wasn’t enough to do what I wanted to do with myself.
My Bestie's Brother is available on Amazon now!
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Also by Holly Rayner
BILLIONAIRE COWBOYS
The Single Dad’s New Twins
The Cowboy’s Surprise Baby
The Billionaire’s Convenient Bride
My Bestie’s Brother
RAVISHING ROYALS
Her Accidental Prince
His Royal Quadruplets
The Prince Next Door
The Royal Treatment
The Prince’s Long Lost Baby
LOVE IS PRICELESS
The Baby Miracle
Most Eligible Single Dad
The Deal With Triplets
Playboy Prince, Single Dad
BILLIONAIRES OF EUROPE
Fake Bride Wanted
Single Dad, Billionaire Boss
Big Greek Baby Secret
His For A Price
First Time Lucky
Dr. Single Dad
Married by Mistake
Fake Fiancée, Bride Forever
Single Dad, Billionaire Heartthrob
SMALL TOWN SHEIKHS
The Sheikh’s Small Town Baby
Seduced by the Sheikh Doctor
Bought by the Sheikh Next Door
Bought by the Sheikh Single Dad
The Sheikh’s Second Chance Lover
YOU CAN’T TURN DOWN A SHEIKH
The Sheikh’s Surrogate Bride
The Sheikh’s Unexpected Twins
The Sheikh’s Secret Princess
The Sheikh’s Bride Bargain
Indebted to the Sheikh
The Sheikh’s Forbidden Baby
MORE THAN HE BARGAINED FOR
The Sheikh’s Twin Baby Surprise
The Sheikh’s Triplet Baby Surprise
The Sheikh’s Quadruplet Baby Surprise
The Sheikh’s Quintuplet Baby Surprise
The Sheikh’s Sextuplet Baby Surprise
The Tycoon’s Triplet Baby Surprise
The Sheikh’s Borrowed Baby
The Prince’s Triplet Baby Surprise
The Tycoon’s Temporary Twins
THE SHEIKH’S NEW BRIDE
The Sheikh’s Priceless Bride
The Sheikh’s Bride Bet
The Sheikh’s ASAP Bride
Sold To The Sheikh Bidder
The Sheikh’s Stolen Lover
The Sheikh’s Bought Ballerina
The Sheikh’s Secret Child
SAN BRAVADO BILLIONAIRES’ CLUB
Second Chance Twins
Nanny For Hire
The Baby Bargain
Accidental Triplets
Take My V-Card
Bought By The Boss
Four Secret Babies
My Brother’s Best Friend
Not Marriage Material
The Single Daddy Situation
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