A Next Door Neighbor For The Cowboy Billionaire (Brookside Ranch Brothers Book 6)

by Hanna Hart

  “Oh, definitely,” he said with a wink, then his smile faded. “I’m sorry about your grandmother, though. That’s tough. But, we’re happy to have you in the neighborhood. If you ever want to hang out or jam or whatever, I’m right next door. Gray house, lots of glass.”

  “Good to know,” she flirted. “I think I may just take you up on that.”

  4

  Madelyn

  Madelyn usually hated moving. She had done it so many times over the years with her father, and otherwise, that it had become more of a chore than an exciting new experience.

  Nothing was appealing to her about carefully packing up her every belonging, sealing it in a box, driving across state lines, and unpacking again.

  But not this time.

  This time, Madelyn was beyond excited about the move. She loved unpacking every box, she loved setting up her new space, and she loved looking out her back window into her forested backyard.

  Why?

  Because it all meant that she was that much closer to finding her son.

  When Madelyn regained her health, she began having regrets over giving her son up for adoption. She would wake up in the night with panic attacks, wondering where he was and how he was doing.

  Since Madelyn opted for a closed adoption, she had no identifying information about the adoptive family, nor did the adoptive family have any information about her as the birthmother.

  After the adoption was finalized, the records between the two were sealed.

  According to state law, these records would only be available to her son when he turns eighteen, but she couldn’t be sure he would ever get them.

  It was the closed adoption that kept her up at night—that made her dubious of whether her private investigator would ever be able to find her son.

  But her private eye, Lennard Crowe, was an incredibly arrogant man who had no intention of giving up on her case until her son was found.

  He had salt and pepper hair that was balding in the front, sharp blue eyes, and Boston accent that came in thick as he announced, “You’re gonna love me when you hear what I have to say.”

  The call came to her late one night while she was in bed. It must have been nearly one in the morning, but she told Crowe to call her anytime—regardless of the hour. And she was glad he did.

  Madelyn sat up in her bed, holding her phone hard against her ear. “What? What is it?”

  “I found him,” Crowe said, sounding proud of himself.

  “You...what?”

  “Your kid,” he clarified. “I think we’ve got him.”

  “You think?” she repeated, her hands trembling. “How sure are you?”

  “Ninety-nine percent.”

  Madelyn’s heart began to pound. This was it. Crowe had actually managed to pull this thing off. “Where is he?” she asked. “Is he alright?”

  “Oh yeah,” he said. “Trust me, if there’s anyone you want your kid to be in the care of, it’s these people.” He paused. “He’s in New York State. A little town called Kerhonkson. He was adopted by a rich couple.”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m talkin’ real rich,” he said, his accent stretching out the words. “I’m talking billionaire. Looks like they own some sort of business. They live in the Mt. Pleasant neighborhood, but I couldn’t find out where.”

  Madelyn fell back down on her pillows. So, Crowe had managed to narrow down her son’s location, but not his actual home. “Who adopted him? What are their names?”

  “I couldn’t find out,” he said, still seemingly immensely pleased with himself. “But that’s for sure their neighborhood. Now, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking, then what difference does it make? Well, let me tell you, little lady...there’s only a few houses in the neighborhood. Twenty, at most. It’s a private area; houses are only grouped in threes. And guess what?”

  “What?”

  “One of them is up for rent,” Crowe said pointedly. “I bet if you head up there for a couple of months, you could cozy up to your neighbors, maybe find out who has an adopted son.”

  “And how am I supposed to do that?” she asked.

  “Start making friends in the neighborhood. ‘Hey, I’m the new girl, how are ya?’ Then, later on, tell one of the wives, ‘I’m thinking about adopting—blah, blah, blah!’ and eventually some dolt will go ‘Hey, you know who went through an adoption and could be of some help to you? Mr. and Mrs. Moneybags!’”

  Madelyn cringed as Crowe laid out the plan for her. It wasn’t a bad plan, but the way he explained it sounded so crass and manipulative. She didn’t want to hurt anyone or disrupt her son’s life. She just wanted to see him, hold him, and make sure he was alright.

  Crowe also suggested that if Madelyn wanted, he would head out to Kerhonkson and find the parents himself, but the price tag that went along with such work wouldn’t be cheap.

  Madelyn felt she had spent enough on Crowe’s investigative work and got great information from him about the whereabouts of her son, so she chose to end her contract with him. She could find her son on her own.

  Which was exactly what she was doing in the ranching town.

  She’d paid six months’ rent at her new home and was ready to make friends with her neighbors, which she seemed to have done quickly with her immediate next-door neighbor, Jaxon Brooks.

  Every time she saw someone out and about in their yard, she wondered if maybe they were the ones who adopted her son, but so far, she hadn’t seen any children playing outside.

  She pored over the paperwork Crowe had given her, sprawling each page carefully out on her living room floor. She read and re-read each note, looked into background checks, and marveled at how quickly her son had been adopted out after she’d given him up.

  Madelyn’s heart quickened as she realized that she was sitting in the same neighborhood as her son, then her spirits quickly dampened, wondering if Crowe was wrong—if the agency had done such a good job of keeping the adoption private that Madelyn had wasted her time and money only to go after the wrong lead.

  She shook her head. That couldn’t have been the case. She knew her son was there. Call it instinct, call it mother’s intuition—she knew he was there. She just had to be patient.

  And what would it be like seeing him for the first time? Would she cry? Would she feel her bond to him rekindle? Would she feel nothing?

  She closed her eyes and imagined the way he looked when he was a baby. He had a shock of dark hair and round blue eyes that looked up at her in wonder. She hoped she would still recognize him.

  Madelyn’s ears perked up as she heard a knock at the door. She quickly shuffled her piles of paper into her backpack and raced to the window beside her front entryway.

  “Hey, you,” she said, greeting Jaxon Brooks as she opened up her front door. She had seen him three out of the five days that she had been living in the neighborhood and couldn’t have been happier for it. “What are you doin’ here?”

  “Hey,” he smiled. “I just got home from work.”

  “Ooh,” she said, opening the door wider to him. “Out on the ranch?”

  “You bet,” he nodded.

  “And what is it you do on the ranch, exactly? Wrangle cattle?”

  “Oh, yeah, I wrangle with the best of them,” he winked. “I do plenty. Host experiences like riding horses, do day trips up to the Catskill Mountains, go fishing, host the winter activities. I mean, if we have it up on the activity board, I’ve probably done it.”

  “Well, look at you; you’re a man of many talents,” she grinned. She didn’t know why, but it felt so good to flirt with the man. “So, what can I help you with?”

  “I’ve been thinking about you lately.”

  She raised a curious brow and couldn’t help but smirk. “Is that right?”

  “See, I was thinking about how it felt to move to town when I was on my own. It kinda sucks, right? You don’t know anybody, you don’t know where the best restaurants are yet, and the list goes on. So,
I was wondering if you wanted to come out with me tomorrow night?”

  “Like a date?” she asked, unsure any other way to phrase the question.

  Jaxon tilted his head from shoulder to shoulder and gave a playful shrug. “More like a welcome to the city tour. What do you think?”

  “Definitely,” she grinned. “What time?”

  “I can pick you up tomorrow around six-thirty? Maybe we’ll grab some dinner.”

  She grinned. “Dinner, eh? And you’re sure this isn’t a date?” she flirted.

  “Positive,” he said, and she felt a small wash of relief.

  Jaxon Brooks had dark brown hair, nearly black, like hers. Only in the light of the sun could she see the hint of his golden-brown highlights. He was tall and had a slim build. Madelyn daresay there was nothing entirely remarkable about him until her eyes caught sight of his strong jaw and bright hazel-brown eyes.

  Dark eyes had always eluded her. She didn’t understand that lure of them. Some were so dark, it was nearly impossible to distinguish the pupil from the iris. But Jaxon Brooks’ eyes were warm, swirling with shades of greens and browns that reminded her of the inside of blown glass or exotic marble. It was only then that she finally understood the meaning of the word “piercing stare.”

  She couldn’t help the attraction she felt for him, but dating was the last thing she wanted to do.

  Madelyn wasn’t in New York to find a new boyfriend; she was there to find her son.

  “Sounds good to me,” she agreed.

  This would be the perfect opportunity to quiz her cute neighbor about anyone in the area who might have an adopted son.

  5

  Jaxon

  Jaxon’s ranch was exploding in popularity. People had traveled from all over the world to come and stay at the luxury cottages.

  The other week, Jaxon had gotten into a deep conversation with a middle-aged couple from Melbourne, Australia. When he asked what brought them to America, they said, “Your ranch!”

  To say Jaxon was taken aback by the response would have been an understatement.

  He’d seen his brothers’ ranches amass wealth and loyal guests. He’d heard about other Brookside locations that booked up years in advance. But never in a million years did he ever think that his ranch would be among them.

  But then again, Jaxon never thought a lot of things.

  He never thought he would be a father.

  He never thought he would be living on the East Coast.

  He never thought Skylar would leave.

  Skylar had been his whole world. He’d done the foolish thing that everyone warns against—putting all of his eggs in one basket.

  Everything Jaxon did revolved around her. Her opinion was the only one that mattered.

  Once she was gone, he felt like he didn’t know who he was anymore.

  He suddenly wondered what Madelyn’s story was. Who had broken her heart, and why would such a beautiful, bright girl come to town all alone?

  “What’s up with you lately, man?” Dylan asked, knocking Jaxon from his thoughts.

  Jaxon blinked, looking across his double-desk at his business partner. “What do you mean?”

  “You’re smiling!” Dylan announced. “I haven’t seen that in a while.”

  “Very funny.”

  Dylan raised his brows and closed the lid of his laptop, giving Jaxon an urging look. “I’m serious. You’ve been on cloud nine for like a week now, so what’s going on? You planning on crashing Skylar’s wedding or something?”

  “Hilarious,” Jaxon cringed inwardly. “No, I’m not. I’d rather get my eyes spooned out with a rusty utensil than ever see Skylar again.”

  Considering how the topic of Skylar’s leaving had dominated their conversation over the last couple of months, Jaxon wasn’t surprised by the skeptical expression that washed over his friend’s face.

  Maybe Dylan was right. Maybe Jaxon was protesting too much. After all, you don’t spend years with someone and then forget they ever existed.

  Unless you were Skylar.

  “You meet someone or...?” Dylan asked, trailing off.

  “I don’t know,” Jaxon said. “Maybe.”

  “Maybe? This is not a maybe kind of question. This is a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ kind of question.”

  Jaxon shrugged.

  Truth be told, he wasn’t exactly sure how to answer his friend. Had he met someone? Technically, he’d met Madelyn, and he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her. She had an interesting energy to her. She was mysterious but friendly, unimpressed by seemingly everything and yet wide-eyed like a child. Plus, she was absolutely stunning.

  But would he qualify her as a romantic interest?

  Maybe one day, but a relationship was the last thing he was looking for. His heart was still shattered, and until he was able to find the scattered pieces, he had no business dragging someone else into his life—even the beautiful girl next door.

  “You met someone!” Dylan happily accused.

  “Sort of,” he repeated, unsure if he wanted to get into it. “My next-door neighbor, Madelyn.”

  “Wow! Good looking?”

  “She’s attractive,” he said, non-committal.

  Dylan leaned into the desk. “What kind of attractive? Cute girl next door? Hottie on the block? Sexy? Quirky and unique?”

  “I don’t know; she’s pretty! What do you want me to say?” Jaxon laughed.

  He knew exactly what type of attractive Madelyn was. She was a sexy girl. Long, dark hair, bright smile. She was the kind of girl you wanted to scoop up in your arms or run your hands from her waist down her legs just to feel the curve of her.

  Not that Jaxon had been thinking about such things...

  “How long have you been seeing her?” Dylan asked.

  “Honestly, we’re not seeing each other. She lives next to me. I started talking to her a couple of days ago and...” he trailed off. “I don’t know. I like talking to her. She speaks her mind; she moved from another state to come here and start over. I can relate to her, I guess.”

  Sensing that Jaxon perhaps didn’t want to talk about a new lady love in his life, Dylan offered a wry smile and summarized, “Well, whatever is going on between the two of you, it looks good on you.”

  Jaxon chuckled. “Thanks.”

  Dylan didn’t bring her up for the rest of the day, but every once in a while Jaxon would look over and his best friend would be giving him a knowing smile.

  After work, Jaxon headed back to his neighborhood and spoke briefly with his nanny about staying late. He spent a couple of minutes talking with Sutton, who was decidedly cranky that evening, before going next door to pick Madelyn up.

  He wasn’t sure why he asked Madelyn out for dinner. He just wanted to get to know her better, he supposed.

  “Hey, you,” he said as he walked up to her front porch. She stood on the bottom stair in blue jeans and a leather jacket with her hair up in a high ponytail.

  “Hey, you’re here,” she said, sounding a bit surprised.

  “What, did you think I was going to bail?” he chuckled.

  “Not a chance. And even if you did, I know where you live,” she winked.

  “Alright, Madelyn. Consider this the official beginning of your welcome tour,” he said excitedly. “There are only a couple things to do in Kerhonkson. One, eat. Two, see a waterfall—because there’s about a million. And three, see the ranch.”

  “You should write guidebooks,” she snorted as she slipped into his car.

  “So, pick your poison. What is your favorite type of food? Barbecue? Middle America classics? Mexican?”

  Madelyn thinned her pink lips and her eyes went skyward as she said, “I’m big on fish.”

  “Fish,” he nodded, considering where he could take her that might live up to the restaurants where she was from. “Hm. Well, I can’t promise anything fresh like you got in Providence. I can’t really promise you seafood that hasn’t been frozen.”

  “Okay,
let’s put a nix on the fish idea,” she laughed.

  “I know! Do you like pierogis?”

  “Pierogis? Like those frozen potato things?” she shrugged. “Yeah, they’re alright.”

  “Have you ever had them fresh?” he asked.

  “I don’t think so.”

  Jaxon shook his head. “Then I know exactly where we’re going.”

  “Okay...” she said skeptically, drawing the word out.

  “This place is a little unconventional, but trust me, it’s delicious. If you’ve only ever had frozen pierogis, then you’ve never really tasted a pierogi. The experience is entirely different.”

  “I guess I’ll have to take your word for it,” she smiled.

  “Yes, you will.”

  He took her to a place called The Darlaks. It was a pierogi restaurant owned by an older Polish couple, the Darlaks.

  Jaxon thought it was a strange restaurant when he first moved to New York, but after Dylan insisted they give the place a try, he was pleasantly surprised.

  And now he hoped that Madelyn would feel the same way.

  The two of them sat in the old leather-bound booths and watched in wonder as the waiter set down plate after plate of pierogis in front of them. They were committed to having a shareable feast of every pierogi flavor under the sun. They ordered classic potato and cheddar cheese, potato and jalapeno, spinach and garlic, broccoli, bacon ranch and onion, and Polish blueberry. On the side, they ordered kielbasa, sauerkraut, a house salad dripping with homemade dressing.

  “It’s like we’re two pierogi obsessed people having a really weird picnic,” Madelyn laughed as the last plate of blueberry pierogis was set down on the table. She pointed to the sweet dumpling and giggled, “We even have dessert pierogis!”

  “And you won’t regret a single bite,” he insisted happily.