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“Sleep well, Taylor.”
When Lane slowly released her and took a step back, it took a moment for her to realize he was looking at her expectantly. “Um … good night … Lane,” she finally managed.
Forcing herself to move, she opened the screen door and didn’t stop until she was upstairs with her bedroom door shut firmly behind her. As she leaned back against it, she had to remind herself to breathe. Lane had more raw sensuality in his little finger than most men had in their entire bodies.
Her heart suddenly began to pound against her ribs. When had she started thinking of him by his first name? It had been much easier and a lot less personal to keep him compartmentalized as Donaldson, her adversary—the very man who stood between her and her goal of owning all of the Lucky Ace.
* * *
Your Ranch … Or Mine? is part of The Good, the Bad and the Texan series: Running with these billionaires will be one wild ride.
Your Ranch…
Or Mine?
Kathie DeNosky
KATHIE DENOSKY lives in her native southern Illinois on the land her family settled in 1839. She writes highly sensual stories with a generous amount of humor; her books have appeared on the USA TODAY bestseller list and received numerous awards, including two National Reader’s Choice Awards. Kathie enjoys going to rodeos, traveling to research settings for her books and listening to country music. Readers may contact her by e-mailing [email protected]. They can also visit her website, www.kathiedenosky.com, or find her on Facebook, www.facebook.com/Kathie-DeNosky-Author/278166445536145.
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This book is dedicated to my poker playing friends Chris Doss, Jeremy Miller and Michele Hudson. Over the years I’ve had a ton of fun playing poker with you and hope we get to play again soon.
Contents
One
Lane Donaldson couldn’t help but laugh as he watched the five men he called brothers acting like a bunch of damned fools.
It was funny how a baby could do that to otherwise intelligent grown men. And whether he wanted to admit it or not, he was no different. He had done his fair share of making faces and odd noises to try to get a smile out of the kid, as well.
He had invited his family and friends to the barbecue to celebrate his winning half of the Lucky Ace Ranch in a poker game last fall. But because of the birth of his nephew a few months back, the celebration had turned into a party to welcome the new baby to the family as well as to commemorate his big win.
“Y’all are going to scare the pudding out of little Hank,” Nate Rafferty complained as he made another face at the infant in his brother Sam’s arms.
Nate and Sam were as different as night and day, even though they were the only two biological siblings out of the band of foster brothers who had spent their adolescence together on the Last Chance Ranch. While Sam was happily married with a three-month-old son, Nate was too busy trying to date the entire female population of the southwest to settle down. In fact, of the four remaining confirmed bachelors, Lane included, Nate was hands down the wildest of the bunch.
“And I suppose you think you’re not scaring the kid with that sappy grin of yours, Nate?” Ryder McClain asked, laughing. “I play chicken with two thousand pounds of pissed-off beef every weekend and you’re still enough to scare the hell out of me.” A rodeo bull fighter, Ryder was without question one of the bravest men Lane had ever had the privilege of knowing—and Ryder was also the most laid-back, easygoing of his foster brothers.
“How much longer before you become a daddy, Ryder?” T. J. Malloy asked, taking a swig from the beer bottle in his hand. A highly successful saddle bronc rider, T.J. had retired at the ripe old age of twenty-eight and in the ensuing years had started raising and training champion reining horses.
“The doctor told us the other day that it could be just about any time,” Ryder answered, glancing uneasily over to where his wife, Summer, sat talking to Sam’s wife, Bria, and Bria’s sister, Mariah. “And the closer it gets, the more I feel like a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs.”
“Getting a little nervous, are you?” Lane asked, grinning.
“More like a lot,” Ryder said, glancing again at his wife as if to assure himself she was still doing all right.
“I
