Back in the Texan's Bed - Naima Simone Page 0,2
reputation and money on the line, hell yes, you’ll make this a success. You have no choice. I want people talking about this festival for months before and after.”
“Oh, they will. Rest assured, Rusty, they will,” Billy murmured, a corner of his mouth lifting in a half smile. “I promise you. This will be an event that no one will ever forget.”
Once more, excitement stirred in Ross’s gut. In just months, vendors, investors, the press and ticketholders would flock to their festival. He sipped from the bubbly wine, savoring the light flavor with a smile. It would be business for him, but not all business. People from all over the world would be visiting the private island where the event would be held. Which meant hordes of beautiful women. Most specifically, women who wouldn’t expect more from him than the temporary, mutually agreed upon use of each other’s bodies for the hottest, dirtiest pleasure.
He knew the reputation he’d earned—they called him a playboy. And admittedly, it was a moniker he deserved. Flings, one-night stands—the filthy hot fun without the messy emotional attachments that could wrap around a man, trap him, strangle him until he couldn’t think, couldn’t function, couldn’t fucking breathe.
His chest tightened, a vise slowly turning until he could practically hear his ribs creak in protest. A face, faded and nebulous, wavered across his mind’s eye like a mirage a dying man glimpsed seconds before his heart and body surrendered. Ross’s grip tautened around the glass, his jaw clenching. He wasn’t a dying man, but he’d beat the shit out of himself if he ever allowed himself to be that humiliatingly weak again. To allow himself to believe fucking was more than that—two people satisfying an itch before going their separate ways. It didn’t have anything to do with emotion...with love.
God, why in the hell did that word keep rebounding in his head today?
He mentally shook his head, dislodging the wayward thoughts—and that damn face—from his head. Focus. He needed to focus.
He and his siblings hovered on the precipice of obtaining their individual and collective purposes. Of achieving those goals that Billy had toasted about mere moments ago.
And nothing would stand in their way.
One
“Charlotte, can I borrow you for a moment?”
Charlotte Jarrett looked up from plating and double-checking the dishes before sending them out for customers to dine on. This was her kitchen, her baby. And her recipes were her soul. If the food wasn’t flawless, she sent it back for another plate to be prepared. Nothing less than perfection went out of here.
“Sure thing,” she said to Faith Grisham, the manager of Sheen, the restaurant where Charlotte had been working as head chef for two weeks now. “Give me just a couple of minutes to finish up here and get these out and served.”
Faith, a beautiful, no-nonsense woman who could’ve passed for actress Zoe Saldana’s younger sister, nodded with a flick of her fingers. “Of course.” Number one rule in this kitchen: the food came first, because the customer did. And though Sheen enjoyed popularity and success, they couldn’t afford to become lax. One negative review, one bad write-up, and their status as Royal’s newest favorite could quickly spin the other way. Nobody wanted that.
Least of all Charlotte.
Not when she’d sacrificed everything to return to the hometown she’d had no intention of ever stepping foot in again.
Not when she had so much riding on this.
Like expanding her clientele to include more exclusive and influential connections. A possible owning partnership in Sheen. Growing her reputation, to take one more step toward becoming a world-renowned chef. Earning her Michelin stars.
And most important, providing a stable, financially secure future for herself and Ben.
Even as she executed the finishing touches on her signature dish of braised beef over Thai noodles with seared tomatoes and asparagus, that warm rush of joy that only thoughts of her beautiful little boy could conjure slid through her like melted sunshine. He’d saved her, blessed her with a reason to keep pushing forward, instead of lying down and fading away. He was her everything, so it seemed only fair that she would be more than willing to give up everything to ensure he had a well-rounded, happy and full life.
Even if it meant swallowing her pride and being the one to try to bridge the divide that had estranged her from her parents after she’d left Royal.
Even if it meant facing the memories—and demons—that continued to plague her three years later.
Smothering a sigh, she refocused on the