Her Country Star Billionaire Grooms

by Taylor Hart

  Her Country Star Billionaire Groom

  Bachelor Second Chance Cowboy Romances

  Taylor Hart

  Contents

  Copyright

  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

  Epilogue

  Sneak Peak Her Quiet Billionaire Groom by Jackie Castle

  Also by Taylor Hart

  About the Author

  Copyright

  All rights reserved.

  © 2019 ArchStone Ink

  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior permission of the publisher. The only exception is brief quotations in printed reviews. The reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form whether electronic, mechanical or other means, known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written consent of the publisher and/or author. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author. This edition is published by ArchStone Ink LLC.

  First eBook Edition: 2019

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are either the creation of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Prologue

  JJ Kelly shivered on the hopper plane that was flying him from Denver out to the Kelly Brother Ranch. A half-hour flight was much better than a three-hour drive, but neither settled his annoyance at his dashed plans.

  He’d played at a sold-out concert yesterday evening in L.A. The tour wasn’t over, and JJ had planned to stay in California and spend Christmas day relaxing on the beach. In fact, Ryan, the third brother of the Kelly clan, was going to meet him, and they were going to chill together. Eat sushi. Surf. Catch up.

  But no. His father had changed everyone’s plans last week when he’d guilted them into coming home, using as leverage the memory of how their mother had always liked to have a quiet dinner by the Christmas tree. He’d also texted that he had an important announcement.

  Announcement. Right.

  The snow beat down like a machine gun, and the plane dipped to the right. Fear pricked JJ’s heart. He’d never been afraid of flying until they’d lost their mother to a plane crash five years ago.

  He picked up the Patron Saint of Travel, St. Christopher, who hung around his neck, crossed himself, and whispered, “In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.”

  The plane jolted to the other side.

  “Tom?” JJ called out to the pilot.

  “It’s fine, JJ. The landing grid is lit up and we’re headed in. No worries, I got ya.”

  JJ held his breath. After the crash four years ago, Tom had taken over as their pilot and he was a pro, too. JJ’s father hadn’t been about to hire an amateur.

  True to Tom’s word, the descent was fine. The plane landed with a slight bump, then slowed and came to an abrupt stop next to the large barn on the south side of the house.

  Through the glass, JJ saw Ryan straddling his horse, Steve the Steed. Ryan had given the horse that stupid name when he was fifteen, and the name had stuck. Ryan’s face lit up as their eyes met. He pumped his eyebrows and held up the reins to JJ’s horse, Sasquatch. A much more distinguished name, if JJ said so himself.

  JJ laughed. Wasn’t it just like Ryan to come out on horseback in the middle of a storm? Of course Ryan would make it a competition to see who could get back to the main house the quickest. He imagined that the road between the barn and the house was paved. One of his brothers had probably taken care of that earlier.

  JJ unlatched the plane door and pushed it back, ignoring the pain in his leg. There was always pain where the flesh and the prosthetic intersected above his right knee. “Thanks, Tom.”

  “You got it, man,” Tom said, switching controls off. Tom’s family lived in a home a mile away from the landing strip. That was part of the deal when he was hired; he got his own patch of land and a home.

  It worked because the property was huge—boasting 220,000 acres. Two different major rivers ran through it, and several lakes, ponds, and reservoirs were scattered throughout. The place could be a mini country. There were oil reserves, of course, but his dad didn’t drill on his own property. Nope, he’d left it to the ranchers, the farmers, and the various projects for universities and other philanthropic endeavors.

  JJ’s father, Jack Kelly, was a larger-than-life man. He’d become a billionaire by his own hard work, genius, and luck. He’d also insisted that his boys wouldn’t get a dime until they were forty, because he wanted them to learn the business and make something out of themselves, not be pampered and entitled.

  JJ jumped down to the ground and slung a bag over his shoulder. “Bro?”

  “You’re late,” Ryan grunted. He held out Sasquatch’s reins.

  JJ took the reins, and adrenaline spiked through him. He slid the strap of his duffel-type bag over his shoulder and across his chest to stabilize it. “I suppose you think you can beat me because I haven’t ridden in a while?”

  Ryan grinned. “No, I’m going to beat you because you’re fat and out of shape and I’m fast—it’s a job requirement.”

  JJ snorted and quickly mounted, relishing the feel of the old saddle beneath him. He clicked his tongue to get Sasquatch moving. “Being fat is all relative when you’re talking to a professional football player.”

  Ryan’s grin widened. He played running back for the Boston Bruisers and wasn’t one to hold back from a well-deserved opportunity to gloat.

  JJ and Ryan were six years apart, but they were close.

  Ryan pricked the horse in the sides with the heels of his boots. “Giddy-up!”

  JJ cursed, then clicked his tongue. Sasquatch dove into action, quickly gaining speed and staying on the heels of Steve the Steed. The cold air hit JJ hard, but he ignored all physical discomfort and rose a bit on the saddle, clicking louder in his horse’s ear. “Come on, boy, can’t get beat today.”

  As he’d expected, the lane had been cleared. Sasquatch kicked it up a notch, gaining on Ryan.

  Ryan turned, and their eyes met. He laughed.

  It was the perfect opportunity to gain on him, and JJ leaned forward. “You should never look back when you’re ahead, bro. It slows you down!” he called out as Sasquatch passed Ryan, finishing the jaunt by galloping into the big barn next to the house.

  JJ yanked hard on the reins and Sasquatch came to an almost instant stop, his head turning and his whole body being yanked to the side.

  “Sorry, boy.” JJ patted the horse. “You did good. I’ll bring ya carrots later.”

  The older groomsman, Hans, appeared. He shook his head. “You boys and the constant racing.”

  “Hey, Hans,” JJ said. Hans was a nice man. Older now. He’d been with his father for as long as JJ could remember, but so had most of the staff there at KB Ranch. JJ slipped off the horse and hugged Hans.

  Hans smiled.
The man was solid, and anything he had originally lacked in communication when he’d come to the ranch forever ago, he’d made up for in skills with horses. Hans had taught the boys to be top-of-the-line riders. He’d even helped Clark get into thoroughbred racing at one point until he’d grown too big to be an effective jockey. Hans was like a second father to all of them. “It’s good to see you. You don’t come home enough.”

  JJ nodded. “Probably right.”

  Ryan had already dismounted and was shaking his head. “You cheater!”

  JJ turned all of his attention to his little brother, giving him a play punch in the arm. “Hey,” he said, putting a hand to his gut. “I may have a few extra pounds, but Sasquatch is in shape. Remember, you can’t ever take down a SEAL, even a retired SEAL with half of a leg.”

  Ryan grunted, staring at the lower part of JJ’s right leg. “How does it feel?”

  He handed the reins to Hans and winked. “Better than you look. Thanks, man.” As he and Ryan headed toward the house, JJ snickered. “Still can’t beat your big brother.”

  Ryan put an arm around JJ. “So many reasons to hate you.”

  JJ threw his head back and laughed even harder. “Don’t worry about it. If your football career doesn’t work out, you can work the male model scene.”

  Ryan scowled. “I didn’t ask to be in the magazine.” JJ’s assistant had made sure to let JJ know that Ryan had been plastered on the cover of a national magazine—much to Ryan’s dismay.

  “Don’t worry. I won’t tell the others I beat you.”

  “I’m sure they already know ’cause of Dad’s cameras.”

  “I won’t try to beat you in a footrace, so your ego will likely recover.”

  Ryan nudged him. “Maybe, but I don’t think any of our egos can compare to the old man’s right now.”

  JJ paused next to the kitchen door, looking around to make sure they didn’t have a camera trained on them. “What’s going on? I’ve been…” He broke off, hating to admit this. “Something hasn’t felt right lately with Dad.”

  “I don’t know.” Ryan shrugged. “Old man won’t tell us the announcement.”

  JJ thought about the increasing texts he’d been getting lately from his father. It wasn’t like his dad to bother him so much about inane details like what everyone wanted for Christmas Eve dinner. “It’s weird.”

  “Dad’s been different lately. Something’s off.”

  Ryan would know. For the last couple of years, JJ’s brothers had all been in closer proximity to their dad. Granted, it could be said that JJ and his dad had shared the closest relationship. After all, JJ was the oldest, and he’d been groomed to take over. Regret stabbed through him. After his mother had passed five years ago, JJ had finally decided to quit dabbling in music and make it a reality.

  As if reading JJ’s thoughts, Ryan sighed. “Don’t feel bad, JJ. I left him, too.”

  That only magnified the guilt JJ had let lay hidden beneath the smoldering coals. “Seth has been here.”

  Seth was close, living on the ten acres of ranch land he’d purchased from Dad to run his animal rehabilitation center.

  Ryan scoffed. “That’s a lot on Seth.”

  JJ knew that. JJ rubbed his eyes. His father had taken his mother’s death hard, and four of his five sons weren’t available most of the time. Plus the fact they had demanding careers.

  JJ was on the road a lot with his music tours, but he had an apartment in Nashville to record the other times of the year.

  Parker was an FBI agent, with apartments in several different cities.

  Ryan played football half of the year in Boston, and he spent the off-season in California. Even though he hopped on a plane and visited the ranch quite a bit, it wasn’t like being here full time.

  Clark, the youngest of the brothers, had recently graduated from college with a master’s degree in marketing and settled in Chicago. He was a clear workaholic and JJ knew the relationship between he and his father had been a bit fractured since their mother passed.

  It wasn’t like their father needed them close by every second, but recently JJ could feel a shift happening. Of course, he’d pushed his intuition to the side, because there wasn’t time for those kinds of feelings when he was in the middle of opening for Sloane Kent’s country tour. It was like living a dream come true, and he was loving every minute of it.

  As they got to the kitchen door, Ryan held the door open for JJ. He sucked in a long breath. “Ya ready to face the bros?”

  Standing straighter, JJ put a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “You know what they say about the Kelly brothers, don’t you?”

  The corners of Ryan’s mouth tugged up. “Born ready, baby.”

  “That’s right.” JJ laughed and walked in.

  Martha, his father’s permanent cook and housekeeper, rushed toward him. “Mr. JJ, you’re home.”

  He opened his arms and held the petite woman from Costa Rica. She and her husband, Robert, had permanently relocated to KB Ranch when JJ was around eight, and he remembered a definite shift in cooking for the better—even though he’d never tell his mama. “So great to see you, Martha.”

  The kind, elderly woman pulled back, dabbing at her eyes. “Hurry in. Your father is waiting.”

  They walked through the kitchen and out into the main hallway, then toward the dining room. JJ heard murmurs mingling with classical Christmas music—his mother’s favorite kind.

  Ryan took the handles of the French doors that led into the dining room and flung them open wide, exposing the huge room, the fireplace, the tree, and the sparkly red and green table decorations. Everyone stopped talking and turned to them.

  “Glad you could finally make it.” Parker, the second Kelly brother, stepped forward and smirked.

  JJ didn’t appreciate the comment. “Guess when you work for the government, you get more time off.”

  Parker stood. “Right, tell me how lazy I am.”

  “Really?” Seth, the third Kelly brother, stood from his seat next to the fire. Anger etched lines into his face. “You’re really starting up crap the moment you walk in?” he growled at JJ.

  “I didn’t start it.” Even as JJ said the words, he knew it sounded immature, like he was in junior high. Plus, Parker was an FBI agent, there wasn’t any amount of lazy in that.

  “Boys.” His father’s tone warned them to knock it off. He was decked out in relatively fancy clothes: a nice dinner jacket, a red turtleneck, a shiny gold belt buckle that had KB engraved on it, his white ten-gallon hat, and his nice boots. It was just what their mother would have wanted him to wear for Christmas dinner.

  Ryan nudged JJ. “Just chillax, bro.”

  JJ met eyes with Clark. His lip twitched up. “Yeah, chill-ax.” Clark enunciated the word. “If a famous football player says the word, it must be a real word, right?”

  Ryan paused on his way toward the eggnog and glowered at Clark. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  JJ winced. Ryan and Clark fought in the same manner that JJ and Parker fought.

  Clark shrugged and stared at his eggnog. “Nothing. Never mind.” He sat in the chair next to his father, but unlike the rest of them, who were wearing cowboy garb, Clark wore a blue sweater. With his glasses and neatly parted hair, he looked like a professor.

  “Please, not tonight,” his father whispered, and looked to JJ.

  His father had always told JJ that for good or bad, JJ could set a tone. JJ was the oldest, so his brothers looked up to him. Before he’d left the ranch, he had been in charge. JJ steeled the pride inside him and opted to plaster on a fake smile; he’d perfected it in front of crowds of people as he’d toured night after night. He swallowed his pride and crossed the distance to his father, opening his arms. Even though the man had used leverage to get them here, he was an amazing father. “You’re looking good, old man.”

  His father hugged him back. “Don’t lie.”

  They were both roughly six feet, one inch tall, and his father wa
s still strong at the age of fifty-eight; he didn’t show any signs of slowing down.

  Pulling back, JJ inspected his father’s face and grinned for real. “I don’t think you age.”

  His father blinked. “Thanks.”

  JJ felt emotion scrape the back of his throat. Was his father emotional? That wasn’t like him.

  “I guess you and Sasquatch still got it.” His father coughed and looked at Ryan. “We saw.”

  Ryan had moved to the glasses to pour himself some eggnog. “Pfft, he cheated.”

  The brothers all laughed, even Parker.

  JJ felt himself loosen up.

  “Sit,” his father commanded, still smiling and gesturing to the table. He glanced at JJ. “Martha put the food on the table the minute you landed, and I don’t want it getting cold.”

  All the brothers found their way to their seats at the square table—the seats weren’t assigned, but they chose the same ones each time they sat together. There would have been a tidy two on each side of the square table, but their mother’s spot was empty.

  Before they could get settled, their father’s hat was off and his head was bowed. “Dear Father, we come before thee as the men of the KB Ranch.”

  JJ had always thought it was funny, as he got older, that his father introduced them that way in prayer to God.

  “We come before thee on the night of thy Son’s birth and express our gratitude for His light. For …” His voice cracked. “For this country and the freedoms we enjoy.”

  JJ’s eyes flashed open, and he stared at his father. He’d never heard his father’s voice crack before; his father had always sounded certain. When his eyes met Parker’s, Parker looked concerned, too.