by J. S. Scott
ALSO BY J.S. SCOTT
The Sinclairs
The Billionaire’s Christmas (A Sinclair Novella)
No Ordinary Billionaire
The Forbidden Billionaire
The Billionaire’s Touch
The Billionaire’s Voice
The Billionaire’s Obsession
Mine for Tonight
Mine for Now
Mine Forever
Mine Completely
Heart of the Billionaire – Sam
Billionaire Undone – Travis
The Billionaire’s Salvation – Max
The Billionaire’s Game – Kade
Billionaire Unmasked – Jason
Billionaire Untamed – Tate
Billionaire Undaunted – Zane
Billionaire Unknown – Blake
The Walker Brothers
Release!
Player
The Sentinel Demons
A Dangerous Bargain
A Dangerous Hunger
A Dangerous Fury
A Dangerous Demon King
The Sentinel Demons – The Complete Boxed Set
Big Girls and Bad Boys
The Curve Ball
The Beast Loves Curves
Curves by Design
The Pleasure of His Punishment: Stories
The Changeling Encounters
Mate of the Werewolf
The Dangers of Adopting a Werewolf
All I Want for Christmas is a Werewolf
The Vampire Coalition
Ethan’s Mate
Rory’s Mate
Nathan’s Mate
Liam’s Mate
Daric’s Mate
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, organizations, places, events, and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Text copyright © 2017 J.S. Scott
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.
Published by Montlake Romance, Seattle
www.apub.com
Amazon, the Amazon logo, and Montlake Romance are trademarks of Amazon.com, Inc., or its affiliates.
ISBN-13: 9781503941649
ISBN-10: 1503941647
Cover photo and design by Laura Klynstra
This book is dedicated to my siblings: Beth, Sandie, and Terry. It’s been rough since we lost Mom, but I’m so grateful that we’ve been able to push through the sad times together. Thank you for everything you do to support me. I love you all.
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 24
CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 26
EPILOGUE
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
PROLOGUE
A Few Years Ago . . .
“Dude, you’re being a dick.”
Julian Sinclair flipped off his younger brother, Xander, for his negative comment. “Unlike you, I don’t have the luxury of going to see Mom and Dad right now. I’m trying to build a goddamn career!”
Was it so wrong for Julian to want his parents to be proud of their middle son? If that was going to happen, he needed to stay in Los Angeles and work. Julian’s brother Micah already had a successful corporation that he’d built himself. As the eldest, Micah had made his own mark in the world, even though he’d already inherited a billionaire status from their father’s wealth, just as all three of them had when their dad had retired.
Xander, the youngest, was already a music superstar.
All Julian wanted was a chance to prove himself without revealing that he was one of the billionaire Sinclair clan. He’d been busting his ass in Hollywood for years, living the life of a struggling actor to keep himself motivated.
“It’s their anniversary, man,” Xander answered reasonably. “And you haven’t seen them since . . . when? Your college graduation? Five or six years ago? You told them you’d be at the party.”
It had been a long time. And yes, he had told his parents that he’d come to their anniversary celebration, but that was months ago. Before he’d gotten the starring role in a movie that meant everything to him. “I’ll call them. I always do.”
Xander scowled at his older brother from his straddled position on a rickety dining-room chair in Julian’s sparsely furnished apartment. “They miss you. Micah can’t make it, either, but he just visited them for a week before he left for business. You can catch a ride with me. I’m flying there tomorrow. It’s just a couple of days.”
“I’m not fucking going,” Julian answered angrily, glaring at Xander as he tossed his movie script on the old table. He obviously wasn’t going to be able to work on it until he got rid of his pesky younger brother.
This movie could be pivotal to his career. The last thing he needed was to be away for a couple of days.
Once he’d made it in the film industry, Julian would make it up to his mom and dad, visit them every month. He missed them, too. “I want to be somebody when I see them again,” Julian told Xander as he leaned back in his chair and ran a hand through his unruly hair in frustration.
“You don’t get it,” Xander answered sadly. “You are somebody. You’re their son. They’ll love you the same way whether you’re mega-successful or not. It’s what parents do. Dad admires the fact that you aren’t using your money to buy success. He and Mom are both proud of you. All they want is to see you in person.”
“I’m busy,” Julian snapped. “It can wait. This film I’m taking on right now is special to me. Really special. And I finally got a starring role. This could be my big break.” The screenplay was important to him for another reason that he hadn’t yet revealed to any of his family. And he wouldn’t. Not unless he could make the film successful.
Xander had been discovered almost immediately once he’d started his music career. Julian didn’t believe for a moment that it was only because his brother was a Sinclair. Xander was talented. Always had been. But the fact that their family was one of the richest in the world certainly didn’t hurt to open doors and find connections. Stubbornly, Julian refused to use the Sinclair name to try to launch any opportunities for himself.
He’d been damn lucky to get his current break, and he didn’t want to fuck it up.
“Mom and Dad aren’t getting any younger, bro. How long do you think you have?” Xander answered. “They’re both in good health and pretty damn active. But they won’t be around forever.”
“Dad is still playing tennis and golfing like a pro, and Mom can work circles around other women her age and younger. They aren’t going anywhere. I can wait until this movie is done,” Julian insisted.
He was starting to get angry at his little brother for trying to guilt him into going to their parents’ place with him tomorrow.
Considering that he was a music superstar, Xander looked pretty relaxed in a pair of bl
ack boots, jeans, and a black T-shirt underneath his dark leather jacket. He never seemed stressed over concerts, touring schedules, recording, or the rest of his busy life. And Xander always . . . always put family first. Fame hadn’t seemed to change Julian’s younger brother much at all.
Unfortunately, living close to Xander meant that Julian got frequent visits from his younger brother, since they lived only about fifteen miles apart. Micah, who was headquartered on the East Coast, visited when he was in town for business, so Julian’s interaction with his older brother was sporadic.
It wasn’t that Julian didn’t care about his family, but since he lived a completely different lifestyle, he felt like none of them could relate to his struggles. Being reminded by his siblings and parents that he actually had a portfolio worth billions of dollars, which his father had settled on his kids when he’d retired, could tempt Julian to give in and use his money and connections. It would be so much easier. But it wouldn’t feel the same as making it completely on his own.
Xander rose and kicked the chair out from under his butt, easily catching the back of it to return it to its place against the table. “I give up. I promised the folks I’d do what I could to bring you with me, but I can’t make you understand that you’re being a self-centered asshole to parents who love you regardless of what you’ve achieved.”
Julian rose, furious now. “It’s not like I’m sitting on my ass doing nothing. My career matters, dammit!”
“I know that. Mine matters, too. But your priorities are all fucked up, Julian. We’re lucky to have great parents. All of us were raised in a life of privilege, and unlike our cousins, we had a great mom and dad who’ve always been supportive of whatever our personal dreams might be. I’m never too busy to go see them, because I want to spend time with them.”
“Yeah, you were always their precious baby boy,” Julian sneered as he stepped up nose-to-nose with his sibling.
Xander slammed Julian in the chest to push him back. “Bullshit. They never played favorites with any of us and you know it. You just want to justify the fact that you’re a dick. Go ahead. Tell yourself whatever makes you feel better. Just remember, you may regret not seeing them more often someday.”
Julian flinched as Xander walked out of his apartment and slammed the door.
“Fuck him,” he cursed as he strode back to the table and picked up his movie script. “I’ll make it up to Mom and Dad once the movie is done.”
He’d eventually apologize to Xander, too, for his angry words. Honestly, Julian’s parents hadn’t played favorites with their children. But he and his brothers were close in age, and Micah had always been brilliant with business and eventually special because he was skilled with extreme sports. Xander had excelled as a gifted musician from a very young age.
And I’m still trying to find my damn place in the world.
It wasn’t that Julian hadn’t gotten the same amount of attention. It had just been . . . different. He’d been a kid who’d liked books and movies. Pretty boring when one compared his childhood interests with Micah’s and Xander’s talents. But his mom never failed to discuss the books he was reading with him, and his dad took him to movies and shows that he wanted to see, on opening day.
Nothing his parents or brothers had done had caused Julian’s discontent. He just wanted to be extraordinary in his own way, which was why he needed to make it without using the Sinclair connections or money.
He forgot Xander’s words a few moments later as he focused on movie scenes.
The next time he thought about what Xander had said, it was at his parents’ funeral. They were both dead, and Xander was in the hospital clinging to life.
Julian had been wrong. He’d never gotten the chance to make anything up to his parents, and Xander had been right.
Julian had what seemed like a million regrets, and even though he wanted to turn back the clock and do things in his adult life with his parents all over again, he couldn’t.
There were no do-overs, and no second chances sometimes. Life wasn’t like a movie or a Broadway show, where you could have multiple takes, rehearsals, dress rehearsals, and then, hopefully, a perfect opening night, or a polished, finished movie after an incredible amount of preparation.
Life was finite and unpredictable.
Unfortunately, Julian grew up and learned that lesson much too late.
CHAPTER 1
The Present . . .
“Order up!”
Kristin Moore cringed as Ned, the cook at Shamrock’s Bar and Grill, slammed another plate down at the service window. The grumpy old man got the job done, but he made sure everyone knew he didn’t like the fact that he was behind the bar instead of in front of it. Ned was a drinker, and Kristin didn’t know from one day to the next whether he’d show up for work. Today was one of those days she wished Ned, along with his shitty attitude, would have stayed home.
My lucky day! He decided to come to work.
She finished doing two beers on tap, slamming the lever back in place when she had filled both frosty mugs. Shamrock’s had great beer. It was one thing she could say about the bar. They used a lot of local vendors, something her dad had done from the day he opened the place a few decades ago. Small-business owners here in Amesport tried to support each other whenever possible.
After quickly delivering the drinks, she went to snatch the plate Ned had almost broken, looking down at the sad state of the daily special. The Reuben sandwich looked soggy instead of nicely browned on both sides, and the onion rings were overcooked.
Dad has to get rid of Ned before his crappy cooking runs him out of business.
Problem was, her dad was distracted, his brain too full of worry about other things to be bothered with hiring another employee.
Kristin would have done the cooking, but that would leave Ned to handle the bar, and that wasn’t happening. He’d drink more than the customers.
Fighting the unsanitary urge to straighten up the food items on the plate so they at least looked better, Kristin delivered the food to one of the tables. Ned had been cooking badly for months. Today, since Shamrock’s had a lot of business, she hoped his food tasted better than it looked.
Please order dessert.
She smiled at the middle-aged gentleman as she gave him his food, hoping he’d be hungry enough to try the daily special dessert.
Since Kristin had made it herself, using some of her best friend Mara’s incredible products, she knew the wild-blueberry cheesecake was good. It was her mom’s recipe, and she’d been making it for years.
Glancing up at the clock, Kristin noticed it was only five p.m.
Four more hours!
She was already dragging, having put in a full day at Dr. Sarah Sinclair’s office as a medical assistant. The time between now and closing seemed like an eternity.
She was tired.
Her feet were killing her.
She was stuck with a grouchy burger slinger until the dinner hour ended.
And, for once, Shamrock’s was actually slammed with customers. It was a Friday night, and the whole weekend would be busy since Amesport was hosting a local art festival. Main Street was closed to traffic, and artists and vendors would be setting up their booths to showcase their art early in the morning.
Apparently, all of the artists decided to show up early.
Getting the locale for the event was an attempt to keep the tourists coming, even though summer was long over in the Maine coastal town. Luckily, it was looking like the snow would hold off, so it might be chilly, but the festival should be a success. The town had a backup plan to set up at the Amesport Youth Center if the weather was bad, but it had been an unseasonably warm fall and early winter.
Amesport really needed some off-season winter events because so much of the town counted on summer tourism. Grady Sinclair, one of several of the billionaire Sinclairs who had settled in Amesport, was doing everything he could to help his wife, Emily, liven up the slow seasons.
“Order up!”
Kristin flinched as the plates hit the steel counter. Jesus! She should be used to Ned’s crotchety, loud voice and his preference to try to break the plates rather than get them to the customers, but she still startled with every noisy, disruptive bellow the man let out before he whacked the food down. Probably because his declaration was shouted loud enough to hear next door, and she was right in front of him at the bar.
It wasn’t like he had to shout. She was only five feet away from the mean-tempered cook.
Be patient. Be patient. Be patient.
She tried to rein in her redheaded Irish temper, just like her father did. Her mother was nearly a saint in Kristin’s eyes, and she knew she was much more like her dad: slow to anger, but when she finally reached her melting point, she went off like fireworks on the Fourth of July.
At the moment, with the place so busy and her body so weary, Ned was pushing her closer and closer to Independence Day.
“You don’t need to call out the order so loud,” Kristin told the ornery cook as she lifted up the plates and balanced them on her arm.
Ned looked up and glared at her. “Yes, I do. It’s the only way I can get through the night. Hate this job. In Boston, at least I had some pretty waitresses in short skirts to look at. Don’t have that here in this miserable bar.”
Kristin gaped at him, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. What in the hell could she say to that? Her temper flared, not really because he was insinuating that she was nothing to look at, but because her father had given Ned a chance, even though he had very few references.
No doubt, the obstinate jerk had been fired from previous jobs for his drinking problems. Her dad had trusted that Ned would straighten himself out.
He hadn’t.
Kristin knew he’d already been arrested for drunk driving in Amesport, and it was obvious he had no desire to quit drinking.
Studying him from a medical perspective, he had the red nose and bloodshot eyes of a longtime alcoholic, that bleary-eyed stare of a man who couldn’t get on the wagon.
She felt sorry for Ned, but she was also angry at him.
Alcoholism was a disease, but her dad had taken Ned at his word that he’d work to straighten himself out, and he hadn’t put in a single bit of effort. Her father and the present cook were old Navy buddies, and when Ned had called, her dad had helped . . . as usual. Dale Moore had assisted his friend by finding him a reasonably inexpensive place to live and giving him a job without too many questions. In return, Ned had taken advantage of her dad’s friendship and kindness, never even attempting to get help or to attend one single AA meeting.