Page 23 of The Billionaire Who Saved My Cat From The Mafia

“Your wedding’s more than a month away,” Finn says.

“That’s what I’m saying!Time’s running out and I still can’t decide between the classic black mulberry silk or the pleated paisley—also in mulberry silk, of course.”

“Of course,” Cal says.

Declan stays quiet, which is never a good sign.He only turns off the comedy routine when knows he’s hit paydirt and is preparing to go in for the kill.In those cases, his silence is far worse than any of his nonstop bitching and moaning and joking around.

I sense him walking up to stand behind me, next to Finn.

“Is there something you’d like to tell us, Kevin?”Declan asks.

“Let’s go,” Cal says in his oldest brother voice, ending the ambush.“We’ll check back with you later, K.”

I catch Cal’s eye as he herds our brothers from the shed.I lift my chin in acknowledgment.He had my back growing up, always protecting me from the three brothers between us in age.Cal had my back when I was at my lowest point and could see no way out.He continues to have my back.When Cal MacLaine says, “No man left behind,” he means it.

He's kept my secret for three years, as promised.

I’ll never forget the sight of him the day I was released.He stood outside the Jacksonville brig in his civilian clothes, hands in pockets.I didn’t know it at the time, but Cal had just resigned his Naval officer’s commission at the peak of his career.He was already turning the idea Declan and Finn scrawled on a napkin into the money-making juggernaut that StellaR Tech is today.

And the whole time I was in jail, Cal assured my brothers that the reason I couldn’t be reached was because I was on deployment, working as an intelligence analyst, off-grid and in country until further notice.

Cal’s the eldest MacLaine brother, the backbone of our generation.And the finest man I’ll ever know.No question about it.

“Lean back, little brother,” he tells me before he walks away from the shed.

I can’t help but smile at that.Cal’s got a hundred SEAL slogans, one for every occasion.And I’ve heard him use this one many times before.He’s advising me to take a step back, take a deep breath, and detach from whatever it is I’m doing.The reasoning is that a little bit of distance just might be enough to keep a man from making a huge mistake.

It’s wise advice.I’ll lean back from my plans to load up the trailer again.

I’ll saddle up DG instead.I think he likes Boots as much as I do.

CHAPTER 12

Frankie

Really?

MacLaine crests the trail and rides into the clearing on his gorgeous red roan.But he’s also got another saddled horse in tow.Smaller.Gentler.A mare.

I walk out the cabin door.My arms fly up at my sides in exasperation.What’s this man’s problem?Why won’t he just leave me the hell alone?

“Go away!”

He dismounts and opens a saddle bag.The rancher pulls out what looks like a large, rolled-up map.He walks right up to me, and I get the barest whiff of his cologne.

I was right.That’s his sweater and he wears Bulgari—just a hint, nothing overpowering.He must know that when it comes to women’s reactions to men’s fragrances, less is always more.

Every woman I know would rather lean in and inhale than run away coughing.Myself included.

So, I’m right.MacLaine isn’t dull and he’s not dumb.Not anywhere near.And he has some pretty refined taste for a Nevada rancher.

“Let’s sit a minute.”He lowers himself to one of the large logs situated in front of the cabin.It’s obvious that there used to be a fire ring here, and the logs were brought in for seating.But it’s probably been many decades since anyone’s enjoyed a nice night around the campfire on this mountaintop.

I cross my arms over my chest and walk over to him, looking down at the crown of his cowboy hat.I don’t appreciate how he never requests that I do something—he just makes statements and expects compliance.I don’t like that in a man.

Pussy starts hollering from inside the cabin.

“Just a sec,” I tell MacLaine.I go inside, then bring Pussy out.