Prologue
Marcus
I’d grown up in Florida, so the hustle and bustle of the state shouldn’t have registered still, but it did.
I hated it. I hated how many people there typically were in such close confines with each other, and the amount of them who staggered drunkenly out of bars and clubs, often making shitty decisions that’d last a lifetime for them. I hated the amount of trash that littered the place after it. And I definitely hated the noise.
That’s why I’d bought TR Ranch and started the stud facilities there. It was peaceful and quiet, the only people there were the ones you knew about, and the only trash and bullshit were my own. It was my spot of peace and tranquility in a state where it was often hard to find that.
However, this weekend, my twin, Jackson, was getting married to his fiancée, Sasha, a woman who was amazing from top to toe. Jackson was organized and methodical, he always had been, but Sasha brought a spark of chaos and insanity that colored his world. She was also fucking hilarious and had gone through a lot of shit and come out of it smiling. Strength like that was rare, and I admired it.
“How long do we have to be here for?” my best friend, Remy, mumbled, glancing around at the other patrons of the bar we were in for Jackson’s bachelor party.
Technically it wasn’t a party, more of a gathering, but the term bachelor gathering just sounded dumb, so we didn’t use it. At least, not out loud, we didn’t.
Remy had been my best friend since kindergarten. He was my go-to and sounding board for everything and had become one of the family the first time I’d brought him home. His own family were awesome, but you could never have too much family apparently, and mine had claimed him from day one. He had an outstanding brother who was in the Marines and currently deployed in the Middle East and a sister in the Navy, and I loved his parents.
Placing my beer back on the table, I smiled sympathetically at him. “Not long. Jackson doesn’t want things to get too crazy. He just wants a drink to celebrate and then to get back to Sasha.”
Remy snorted. “There’s a surprise. I’m amazed he could tear himself away from her even to come out.”
This wasn’t an understatement.
“That’s why he’s not staying out for long. She went out with the women to another bar, so we’ll meet up with them at some point.”
A commotion up at the bar got my attention, and I looked over, expecting to see someone doing shots or a fight. Instead, I got caught on a lady who was standing back, watching whatever was happening with a look of irritation on her face.
I don’t think I’d ever seen a more beautiful woman in my life.
From this distance, I couldn’t tell how tall she was, but every detail about her called to me. She was curvy, with light brown skin and dark black, silky hair falling to about mid-back, and bangs that were swept to the side, making her look sophisticated, yet edgy almost.
And then she turned and looked at me, and the second our eyes met, I felt my breath catch, and an almost thud hit me in the chest.
She was so uniquely beautiful, she stood out like a flame in a dark room.
Standing up, I skirted the tables and people swaying and made my way toward her, not losing eye contact with her once. I could only have been about four feet away when the group of guys who’d initially made me look up broke apart, and two of the men who were swinging at each other began moving in her direction.
The bigger of the two pulled his fist back, and the other guy ducked as it swung forward, its trajectory leading it to the woman’s head.
Lunging, I grabbed her and pulled her away, just as his fist went through the air where the chick’s head had just been.
Her eyes were wide as she stared up at me. “Holy shit!”
“Man, I’m sorry. Lady, are you okay?” the man who’d thrown the punch asked, shooting a glare at the other guy. “I almost fucking punched this chick because of you.”
“And that’s my fault? Man, you’re the one acting like an asshole here, not me,” the other guy shot back. “You dropped your drink, shit happens. Move the hell on and stop trying to start a fight.”
“Um,” the woman squeaked, tapping me on the shoulder. “Do you think you could put me down? I feel like a kid.”
It registered then that I was still holding her to my chest, meaning she was suspended in the air with her legs hanging. The answer to my height question was slightly more apparent, given that it looked like there was over a foot of distance between her shoes and the ground.