Back in the Texan's Bed - Naima Simone Page 0,1

Soiree on the Bay moves from dreams to reality.”

“Dreams,” Rusty scoffed. “Dreams are for men who don’t have the balls to get out there and pursue what they want.”

Ross glanced at his sister, Gina, across the table, arching an eyebrow in her direction. She rolled her eyes, but he noted the ever-present frustration there. Even this throwaway comment reflected Rusty’s dismissal of women, especially in regard to business and autonomy. All because they’d had the misfortune of being born with a uterus instead of a penis. Though Gina had become as adept as Ross at masking her emotions, he caught the aggravation in her eyes. The hurt.

“Fortunately, everyone in this room is well equipped with their balls,” Billy drawled, slanting a grin at Ross’s baby sister. “Except for you, Gina. And thank God for it.” His gentle teasing garnered the desired effect, and the shadows in her eyes dimmed, lightening with humor and gratitude. “And once we all sign, no one will ever question the influence and reach of The Edmond Organization.”

Rusty grunted and slid the contract over the table toward him. As he scanned through, Billy glanced at Ross and winked. Ross smothered a snort, shaking his head. His pal had been a charmer in college, and since he arrived in Royal two years ago, he hadn’t changed a bit. With his impeccable appearance and manners, generosity with his time, acumen and money, Billy had everyone from business associates to the often clique-ish members of Royal society wrapped around his finger.

Including Rusty, which was a feat unto itself.

The older man had even vouched for Billy with the Texas Cattleman’s Club, and Ross’s friend had scored a much-coveted membership. Billy shared a camaraderie and closeness with Rusty Edmond that even his kids couldn’t claim.

But that was Billy. The Billionaire Whisperer, they jokingly called him.

All right, maybe not so jokingly.

“This looks good,” Rusty announced, reaching inside his suit coat to remove a thick gold pen. With flourish, he signed his name on the designated line. “You did good, son,” he praised Billy.

Picking up his drink, Ross sipped, waiting for the dark slick of jealousy to slide down his throat to his chest along with the liquor. After all, his father had just called another man son, and Ross was human. So yes, pinpricks of jealousy did sting him. But relief reigned as the most prevalent emotion.

And if that wasn’t a fucked-up indictment on the Edmond family dynamic, he didn’t know what was.

But one quick glance at Gina and at Asher, his stepbrother whom Rusty had adopted after marrying Asher’s mother—wife number two—verified he wasn’t alone in this sentiment. That same relief shone his siblings’ gazes, as well. Anytime Rusty leashed in that infamous mercurial temper was a reason to breathe deep and bask in the peaceful, and probably brief, moment.

A knock on the door reverberated in the room, and Billy waved toward the contract. “That’s my surprise. I’ll get that while you finish up here.”

Ross moved forward first, adding his signature to the contract, followed swiftly by Gina and Asher. By the time they all finished, Billy returned, bearing a silver tray laden with a bottle of champagne and five glass flutes. In moments, Billy had the sparkling wine poured and they’d all lifted their glasses to meet high over the table.

“A toast.” Billy paused, blue eyes gleaming. “To The Edmond Organization stamping its indelible brand on not just the US, but the world. I think we’ve all waited for this day to arrive. So, to achieving long-awaited goals. And finally, to all of you, the Edmond family. May you all get what you so richly deserve.” He smiled. “Emphasis on the rich.”

They clinked glasses and sipped the champagne, celebrating this deal that they’d all put so much time into bringing to fruition.

“Vendors have already been contacting me about the festival, just from rumors alone. They want in. I predict tickets will sell out within hours of going on sale,” Asher said. “Soiree on the Bay is going to be wildly successful. For all of us.”

“It needs to be,” Ross added gruffly. “This is the inaugural launch. The potential to make this a coveted, exclusive and profitable annual event is huge. So the first one needs to go off without a hitch. Besides, vendors and investors are pouring money in with ours, and the charities that will benefit from this are counting on it. On us.”

“We’ll do it,” Gina swore, her tone firm. “I have zero doubts about that.”

“With the Edmond