Brand (The Donovan Dynasty)

by Sierra Cartwright

  After shaking her head, she went to check that everything was perfect for the cocktail hour in the other room.

  The quartet was in place on a platform, and they were tuning up. Two servers stood behind an open bar. The banquet manager confirmed that hors d’oeuvres would be served at ten minutes after the hour. All the centerpieces and decorations were perfect.

  Finally, she went outside to check the patio.

  Right now, it was too hot and humid to be pleasant. The overhead beams had pendant fans hanging from them, their blades seeming to slog through the thick air.

  Later, though, the lights off the bayou and the view of downtown Houston, combined with cooler temperatures, would make this an ideal spot.

  She ordered a sparkling water from the bartender, enjoying the last few minutes of peace that she was likely to get for the next couple of hours.

  “Lemon? Lime?”

  “Lime, thanks.” After she had the drink in hand, Sofia walked around the patio. She found a gate that led to the side of the building. There was gravel there, with pavers. That could be the best way to get Julien into the party with as little disruption to the festivities as possible.

  She paused at the back of the patio near a massive potted palm. If she could get some workers to move the plants around, they could block part of the area from view.

  Cade emerged from inside. Without hesitating, he headed directly toward the bar.

  Sofia told herself that he hadn’t followed her, but she couldn’t be sure.

  The woman wrapped a napkin around a beer bottle and handed it to him.

  Sofia watched as he dropped a bill into the tip jar. Judging by the bartender’s wide-eyed expression, it had been a good one. If she hadn’t already liked him, she would have changed her mind in that instant.

  Then he turned toward her.

  If she’d had any doubt that he’d followed her, it was erased.

  He remained where he was.

  Heat and feminine response chased through her. She shouldn’t be attracted to him, but damn it, she was.

  Maybe she should have handled the Oilman’s Ball and left Cade to Avery. Even as the thought flashed through her mind, she banished it. No matter how badly he unnerved her, he ensnared her. Intuition told her to run before she couldn’t. Yet her body refused obey her mind’s orders.

  She curved both hands around her glass as he approached.

  “I would have gotten that for you,” he said, indicating her drink.

  “I think as the event planner, it’s my job to make sure you’re taken care of.”

  “Always the duty of a man to make sure a woman’s needs are met.”

  He hadn’t said anything provocative, so why was she responding as if he had? “Thank you. But I’m pretty accustomed to taking care of myself.”

  She noticed him glance toward her left hand.

  “By choice?” he asked.

  “That’s nosy, Mr. Donovan.”

  “It is,” he agreed.

  But Cade didn’t relent. Instead, he seemed genuinely interested in learning more about her. How long had it been since that had happened? Months? Maybe years? Then the truth hit her. She’d never had a man be so inquisitive and not back down when she called him out on it. He was unique among the men she’d known. That, more than anything, was what encouraged her to respond. “My mother was abandoned by my alcoholic father when I was very young.”

  He winced.

  “I had to take care of my little sister. As soon I was able, I was helping my mother bake cakes and pies for local restaurants. Sometimes she’d stay up all night. I really don’t know how she did it. She remarried a wonderful man a number of years later, but I learned some important lessons early, and I’ve never forgotten them. I went to school on a scholarship. And I worked my ass off to buy my mom’s business and expand it.” Traces of irritation buzzed through her. “So it’s hard to say that anything was by choice. I’ve done what I needed to from necessity.”

  “It appears you’ve done a fine job.” He never looked away. Instead, he tipped his beer bottle toward her in silent salute.

  “I grew up in Corpus Christi,” she admitted. “I know of your reputation.”

  “Yet you’re still talking to me.”

  “Some of it was good,” she replied.

  “That surprises me.”

  “We come from very different backgrounds.”

  “Do we indeed?”

  There was something in his voice, an ache maybe. Pain, perhaps.

  Because of his approval, the expression of his own angst, something went out of her. The fight? The need to explain, justify, defend the way she’d grown up? It hadn’t taken long for Cade Donovan to have an impact on her.

  Her text message alert sounded, and she put her drink on the waist-high adobe wall while she took her phone from her jacket pocket. It was the country club manager, as she’d guessed.

  “Duty calls?” Cade asked.

  “Afraid so.”

  “I hope to see you again later.”

  She didn’t reply. The words sounded more like a promise than a statement, and a secret part of her hoped he was serious. She wanted more time with the darkly mysterious Donovan brother.

  He went inside. After collecting her wits, she asked the manager to meet her on the patio.

  She offered her suggestions, and the manager nodded and summoned a few members of the banquet crew. They brought out a hand truck to move around the big pots, creating a secluded area not far from the gate.

  Once she was satisfied with the result, she informed Julien’s team of the plan then found Connor to update him.

  The only part she disliked was the fact that once again she wouldn’t get to meet the elusive Julien Bonds and get his autograph on her cell phone case. What could be better than his signature right below the Bonds logo?

  * * * *

  Shortly before nine o’clock, she received news that Julien’s car had arrived.

  After signaling the DJ and receiving Marvin’s nod in reply, she went outside to the gate to greet the party.

  A beefy-looking man—security if the earpiece was anything to judge by—had a quick look around before nodding at her and speaking into a microphone on his lapel.

  A moment later, Lara and Connor joined them in the makeshift meeting area.

  The security guard positioned himself between the bar and the plants. She couldn’t have been more pleased with how the plan worked.

  Sofia ordered another soda water. The sound of Lara’s laugh drew her attention, and Sofia couldn’t resist taking a peek.

  Julien wore a loose-fitting jacket, a white shirt and a skinny little tie that was knotted loosely. His trademark athletic shoes were an obnoxious magenta color, and the yellow laces quite literally glowed. He’d taken his tacky footwear to a whole new level yet he still pulled off the casual style that he’d become known for.

  A woman, tall and willowy, with blonde hair cascading halfway down her back, stood next to him. She wore an electric-blue dress that flared around her in a style Sofia associated with Marilyn Monroe.

  Sofia hadn’t heard that he was dating anyone, but the way his arm was draped around the woman’s shoulders and the way she leaned into him hinted that this was something more than casual.

  The bartender handed Sofia the drink, and she turned to see Erin heading toward the private area.

  Since she was the groom’s sister, Sofia didn’t try to stop her, and she nodded to the security guard to let him know that Erin should be allowed to pass.

  “Let me know if you need anything,” she said to the security guy.

  He nodded curtly but didn’t respond.

  Sofia went inside and stood near the back wall, surveying the festivities. More people than normal were on the floor, showing off their moves, and some were even snapping selfies. How they managed that, she wasn’t sure.

  It was less than two minutes later when Erin returned, a pained smile on her face, her shoulders slumped a lit
tle.

  Sofia thought about seeing if there was anything she could do for Erin, but the woman headed straight out of the front door.

  Other than that, Julien and his date’s visit went smoother than she’d anticipated, but she still breathed a sigh of relief when the country club manager let her know that a limousine had whisked away the Bonds party.

  Several times during the next couple of hours, she caught Cade watching her, and she had to force herself to concentrate on her job and not the wild, crazy things he did to her insides.

  * * * *

  “When is it your turn?”

  In the waning hour of the reception, with strains of music spilling from inside the country club, Cade thumbed back his cowboy hat and turned to face his younger sister. Half-sister, really. But the fierce and loyal Erin Donovan would protest that distinction. In her mind, as well as those of his half-brothers Connor and Nathan, they were family, no arguments.

  Cade loved all of his siblings, but Erin most of all. Ever since she’d been a toddler, she’d been a pest, smothering him with adoration and love even when he didn’t want it or deserve it. “My turn?” he repeated, stalling.

  “Don’t play dumb. When is it your turn to get married?”

  “Not happening,” he replied, even though he knew she would push the point. Erin worried about him living all alone on the ranch. As far as she was concerned, there was nothing but cattle, deer, horses and wilderness in South Texas. It didn’t matter to her that he employed dozens of people, many of whom he interacted with on a daily basis. He also traveled more often than he would like. He drove to Corpus Christi at least once a week, flew to Houston almost every month for family business meetings, and he spent more time in the nearby town of Waltham than he cared to.

  “Are you at least finally seeing someone?” she pressed.

  “You know the answer to that,” he responded.

  “I keep hoping.”

  His father’s death had devastated him, shattering his sense of self in ways he was still trying to comprehend. It was almost as if that event had divided the old Cade from the new Cade. In his late teens and early twenties, he’d been a bit reckless. The whispers about him, the way he didn’t deserve the life of privilege he’d ended up with, had gnawed at him. He’d set out to banish the voices as well as to prove himself. He’d lived hard, tried to make his mark on the world, taken unnecessary chances bull riding, racing motorcycles then eventually, cars.

  When Jeffrey Donovan had been buried, Cade had resolved to be a better man, to live up to the expectations placed on him. He’d thrown himself into his responsibilities and obligations, letting them consume him as he attempted to redeem himself.

  He’d shut himself off from distractions, including dating. At one time he’d been active in the local BDSM community. Until this evening, when he’d walked through the door and met the curvy, sexy Sofia McBride, he hadn’t had much interest in women lately. His attraction to her had jolted him and he wasn’t sure he liked it. Hell, it had been at least three months since he’d attended a leather party, even longer since he’d hosted a submissive at the ranch.

  Penance was a bitch.

  Realizing that Erin had rested her fingers consolingly on his wrist, he shook off the melancholy. Tonight was supposed to be a celebration of love, of marriage, of the future. He wouldn’t be the one to bring it down. “How about you?” he asked, redirecting the conversation.

  “Me? Seeing someone? Are you kidding me?” She dropped her hand. “I’m too busy helping Julie get the corset shop going in Kemah. And trying to find someone to run the foundation. I’m pinch-hitting for now, but…”

  “You’re exhausted,” he guessed.

  She shrugged. “It’s a lot of hours.”

  As head of HR for Donovan Worldwide, Erin didn’t have an easy job. Filling high-level vacancies was difficult at best, and their aunt’s decision to spend more and more time with her younger beau complicated matters. The Donovan Foundation had always been run by a member of the family, but now they would have to look to an outsider to fill her position.

  And, in spite of their youngest brother’s objections, Erin had gone ahead with plans to assist a friend in opening a fancy lingerie shop. When the woman had admitted she didn’t have the funds to open the store, Erin had supplied that, as well. No matter the challenge, she accepted it.

  “How are plans coming for the centennial celebration?” she asked, changing topics to one Cade hated only slightly less than the subject of his non-existent love life.

  The Running Wind Ranch, which had been in the family for five generations, was going to be celebrating its centennial in early fall. He would have pretended it wasn’t happening, but his grandfather, the Colonel, had recently announced that he wanted the family to host a gala, inviting neighbors, friends, vendors and business associates. Many of them had never been to the ranch. Others remembered a time the Colonel and Miss Libby had hosted grand events, the last one about twenty-five years ago. It was a headache Cade didn’t want, but a duty he knew he’d fulfill. “My mother said I personally have to check out the caterers.”

  Erin grinned. “Excellent idea.”

  “Not sure why she couldn’t do it.”

  “You really expect Stormy to take the blame if the food is awful?”

  “Well said.” Around Erin, he freely spoke about his mother. Neither Connor nor Nathan had ever said a negative word about her. On the other hand, none of them had ever discussed her involvement in the business, either. The Colonel had spoken fewer than a hundred words to her in over thirty years, and Stormy said she preferred it that way. When Cade’s father had gotten her pregnant, she’d been offered a significant amount of money to go away quietly. If she’d been the type to do that, no doubt his father wouldn’t have fallen in love in the first place.

  “Do you have anyone lined up yet?”

  “A new bakery opened in town, a couple of doors down from the pharmacy. So I stopped in.”

  “And?”

  He’d never felt more helpless. Give him a complex piece of machinery to repair or a steer to brand and he had complete confidence. But when two women had started smiling and shoving food at him, flipping through pictures of weddings and birthdays, offering him tiny plates filled with bizarre concoctions, he’d been overwhelmed and speechless. “Buffalo chicken wing cupcakes?”

  “Were they good?”

  “I don’t know. I couldn’t bring myself to pull it out of the frosting. How the hell do you eat something like that?”

  “I see your point. I guess she was going for something sweet and savory in the same bite.”

  “Cupcakes should be sweet,” he said.

  “The whole world isn’t black and white, big brother.”

  “I have rules, Erin.”

  She grinned. “Got it. Cupcakes are sweet. Women are spicy?”

  “Don’t you have someone else you can bother?” he asked pointedly.

  “Seriously, Cade, you don’t have time to put an event together. You need a company to manage it, invitations, decorations—”

  “Decorations?”

  “Absolutely. Flags. Bunting. Maybe a take-home memento, like a Christmas ornament or something.”

  He blinked.

  “Flowers,” she continued. “And entertainment. Perhaps a band. Live music is always good. People will come just for that. Oh, and a bounce house for kids. Margarita machines, for sure. You’ve only got a few months.”

  Until now, he’d figured he’d need about ten minutes to put it together. Throw some burgers on the barbecue, smoke some brisket, maybe get some of the ranch hands to roast a pig… But with the scowl on Erin’s face, he saw he’d made a huge miscalculation.

  “Have you sent out a save-the-date announcement?”

  “To whom?”

  “Seriously?” She rolled her eyes. “Ask Granddaddy and Grandmother for their guest lists, and Connor. Better yet, ask Connor and Thompson. Thompson has Connor pretty well organized. He’ll kno
w who’s who. Don’t forget Nathan. My mother may want to invite a few of her friends.”

  He hadn’t considered that. But it made sense. Though he’d never spent much time with Angela, she had been married to his father.

  “Do you want me to ask her?”

  “That’s thoughtful of you. But no. I’ll do it.” Or find someone else to do it.

  “I have a few people I’ll want to invite. And we’ll need to contact the cousins. Granddaddy’s the best person for that, too.”

  “Are you sure all of these people have to come?”

  “You’ll be haunted to the grave if you forget anyone. No matter what you say, who you apologize to, it will be taken as a personal affront. You’re welcome to run the whole thing by me. We probably do need to limit it at some point.”

  “To a hundred?” he asked hopefully.

  She scowled. “I was thinking a thousand.”

  “People?”

  “And horses.”

  A cold frisson of panic clutched him. “What?”

  “People, Cade. A thousand people. I was joking about the horses. Tell me you’ve at least decided on a date?” she persisted.

  “I was thinking about October, maybe November. I don’t suppose you—”

  “Oh, hell and no. No chance. I can help you find someone, but I can’t handle everything from a distance.”

  “What about Miss Libby?” He’d heard rumors that their grandmother used to host some of the best parties in South Texas. And she’d hosted many of them at the ranch.

  “It’s been too many years. She can give you pointers, but she doesn’t know the companies down in that area any longer.”

  “Your mother?” he asked desperately.

  “Again, too far away. You’re welcome to meet with both of them, but your event person may want to do that.”

  “I see.”

  “I’ll try to have some people for you to interview by the first part of the week.”