Trust Fund Fiancé (Texas Cattleman's Club: Rags to Riches 4)

He snapped his lips shut, hating that he’d let that last part escape. But now that it had, he couldn’t stop the images of those he’d lost and the people they’d left behind from careening through his head.

Uncle Trent. His parents. Melissa.

“Besides,” he ground out, “my reasons for divorcing Reagan stand. I’m doing her more harm than good remaining married to her. This way she won’t be ostracized by polite Royal society or separated from her family. She’ll have the chance to obtain her inheritance.”

“Bullshit.”

Ezekiel glared at his brother, who aimed one right back at him.

“I call bullshit,” Luke repeated through clenched teeth. “You’re running scared. Like you have for the last eight years. You speak of Melissa and Mom and Dad like they were cautionary tales. Mom and Dad’s marriage is a goal, not a warning. Their love was the epitome of courage, of sacrifice and love. And you shit all over that when you use them to justify your fears. Zeke.” Luke clapped a hand over Ezekiel’s shoulder and squeezed. “You’re about to throw your future away over something that you have no control over. You’re so worried about what could possibly happen. Yes, God forbid, Reagan could possibly die in a tragic accident like Melissa and Mom and Dad. But you could also possibly have a wife and family and be complete in a way you’ve never known or could dream of. She’s worth the risk. You’re worth the risk.”

Ezekiel stared at his brother, but it was Reagan’s words echoing in his ears.

You don’t get to use me as an excuse for running scared and not owning your own shit.

I threaten that pain and guilt that you’ve become so comfortable carrying around it’s now a part of you. Because to admit that I’m more than a charity case to you means you would have to deal with the reality that you stand in your own way of finding acceptance and love.

Jesus. Ezekiel closed his eyes, and Luke gripped his other shoulder, holding him steady.

He loved her.

He loved Reagan Sinclair Holloway with his heart. His whole being.

Because if he didn’t, he wouldn’t be so damn terrified of being with her. She was right. She threatened his resolve, his beliefs about himself, his determination to forbid anyone from getting too close. From loving too hard.

Yes, he’d failed.

But not by marrying Reagan.

He’d failed in keeping her out of his carefully guarded heart.

At some point, she’d infiltrated his soul so completely that she owned it. He couldn’t evict her. And...he didn’t want to.

Did he suddenly believe he was worthy of her? No, but her strength, her warrior spirit made him want to strive to be worthy.

Was he suddenly not afraid? No. He’d believed a man should be brave enough to love her without fear, and that man wasn’t him. But he’d been wrong. A man should just be brave enough to love. The fear of losing her might not ever go away, but he couldn’t let it rule his life.

That man, he could be.

Starting now.

“You’re going after her, aren’t you?” Luke asked, a smile spreading across his face.

“Yes,” Ezekiel said, as a weight he hadn’t even been aware of bearing lifted from his chest. “And if she’ll have me, I’m bringing her home.”

Eighteen

Reagan stood in the back of the long line that bellied up to the funky but trendy food truck Street Eats. Of all the trucks hawking their fare, this one had a constant stream of people, ready and eager to grab the upscale street food. The sign next to the menu proudly declared the owner Lauren Roberts’s focus on organic and farm-to-table produce.

Lauren herself helped serve the food, and even through the serving window, Reagan could easily see the businesswoman’s loveliness. The Cinderella Sweepstakes included a makeover for the charity ball along with the free ticket, but she didn’t need one. Smooth, glowing skin, pretty brown eyes, dark hair that was pulled back into a ponytail at the moment, and curves that Reagan envied completed the picture of a beautiful, confident and successful woman.

Reagan waited until the line had dwindled to a couple of people before joining it. Once she reached the window, Lauren smiled at her.

“Hey there. How can I help you?”

Reagan returned the smile. “Actually, I was wondering if I could have a couple of minutes, Lauren? My name is Reagan Sinclair,” she introduced herself. “I’m on the planning committee for this year’s Texas Cattleman’s Club masquerade ball. And it’s my pleasure to tell you that you’re the winner of the Cinderella Sweepstakes radio contest.”

Surprise widened Lauren’s eyes. “You’re kidding?”