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Forever a Stallion
Deborah Fletcher Mello
All he wants is forever—in her arms Phaedra Parrish’s life takes a sudden turn when she discovers she’s a member of the legendary Stallion clan.In Dallas to meet her newly-found half-brothers, the worldly photographer isn’t looking for romance—or commitment. But self-made hotel tycoon Mason Boudreaux III won’t take no for an answer. Under starry Texas skies, the dashing and debonair CEO is showing Phaedra what men in the west are really like. Mason’s got everything riding on his make-or-break business deal with the Stallions.Now the corporate playboy has an even stronger reason to merge with them: his desire for their exquisite, free-spirited sister. But Mason wants more. He wants to get to know the woman behind the camera. From a sprawling western ranch to an exotic private island, Mason woos Phaedra…but will she say I do to a lifetime of forever in his arms? The Stallions


All he wants is forever—in her arms
Phaedra Parrish’s life takes a sudden turn when she discovers she’s a member of the legendary Stallion clan. In Dallas to meet her newly found half brothers, the worldly photographer isn’t looking for romance—or commitment. But self-made hotel tycoon Mason Boudreaux III won’t take no for an answer. Under starry Texas skies, the dashing and debonair CEO is showing Phaedra what men in the West are really like.
Mason’s got everything riding on his make-or-break business deal with the Stallions. Now the corporate playboy has an even stronger reason to merge with them: his desire for their exquisite, free-spirited sister. But Mason wants more than just a business deal. He wants to get to know the woman behind the camera. From a sprawling Western ranch to an exotic private island, Mason woos Phaedra…but will she say I do to a lifetime of forever in his arms?
She nodded her head as she
eased around him, treading gently
to keep from falling into the water.
As she stepped into his space, Mason inhaled the scent of her perfume, a light floral fragrance wafting beneath his nose. Before he realized what he was doing, he clutched her arm, pulling her to him. He hesitated for only a moment, Phaedra meeting his intense stare with a look of her own. Her breath caught deep in her chest, and her heart raced unexpectedly.
Without a second thought, Mason leaned in to kiss her, allowing his lips to lightly graze hers. His breath was hot with wanting, his full lips quivering in anticipation. He pulled away and stared into her eyes a second time and then he dropped his mouth to hers, meeting Phaedra’s lips in a deep, soul-searing kiss.
Time seemed to come to a standstill. Phaedra felt as if the world had rotated her into the stratosphere, with everything spinning around her. Mason held her tightly, his hands burning hot against the bare skin of her arms and shoulders. His body melded tight to hers and both were in awe of the sensations, feeling as if they were melting one into the other. When he finally pulled back, both of them gasping for air, he knew beyond any doubt that he had absolutely fallen in love with Phaedra, and Phaedra was falling in love with him.
DEBORAH FLETCHER MELLO
Writing since she was thirteen years old, Deborah Fletcher Mello can’t imagine herself doing anything else. Her first romance novel, Take Me to Heart, earned her a 2004 Romance Slam Jam nomination for Best New Author. In 2005 she received Book of the Year and Favorite Heroine nominations for her novel The Right Side of Love, and in 2009 won an RT Book Reviews Reviewer’s Choice Award for her ninth novel, Tame a Wild Stallion. Most recently, Deborah’s eleventh novel, Promises to a Stallion, has earned her a 2011 Romance Slam Jam nomination for Hero of the Year.
For Deborah, writing is as necessary as breathing and she firmly believes that if she could not write she would cease to exist. Weaving a story that leaves her audience feeling full and complete, as if they’ve just enjoyed an incredible meal, is an ultimate thrill for her. Born and raised in Connecticut, Deborah now maintains base camp in North Carolina but considers home to be wherever the moment moves her.
Forever a Stallion
Deborah Fletcher Mello






www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
Dear Reader,
I have absolutely loved my four billionaire brothers, Matthew, Mark, Luke and John Stallion. With their individual stories finished, I was ready to move on. But something kept pulling at my creative spirit, demanding that I continue what I’d started, and it soon became clear that the Stallion family’s story was far from over.
Discovering the illustrious Phaedra Parrish, the one and only Stallion sister, came as a complete and total surprise to me. But as the details of her story unraveled, I found myself completely enthralled. I loved introducing Phaedra to her brothers and watching the new family dynamics unfold.
Forever a Stallion also introduces the Boudreaux family out of New Orleans, opening the door to much, much more to come.
As always, I appreciate the love and support that you continue to show me. I love to hear what you think, so please don’t hesitate to contact me at DeborahMello@aol.com.
Until the next time, take care and God bless.
With much love,
Deborah Fletcher Mello (http://DeborahFletcherMello)
www.deborahmello.blogspot.com (http://www.deborahmello.blogspot.com)
To Wes “Third” Woody,
You are a source of sheer inspiration.
Your bright smile absolutely moves my spirit.
Please know that you are much loved.
Contents
Chapter 1 (#u2550c052-658c-50fa-96c7-5614c477422e)
Chapter 2 (#uecb7cfd0-8a23-511d-a508-a05aa9e07878)
Chapter 3 (#ueeaacdbb-6f29-509e-aebd-5038563741d5)
Chapter 4 (#u43bbd292-3ac3-5b9c-84ab-5e6b7729e556)
Chapter 5 (#ucc63f722-dc56-5e52-922e-6e9450bf2c4f)
Chapter 6 (#u491c4fe3-8e78-5990-915c-9692b0b2b611)
Chapter 7 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 8 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 9 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 10 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 11 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 12 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 13 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 14 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 15 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 16 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 17 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 18 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 19 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 20 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 21 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 22 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 23 (#litres_trial_promo)
Chapter 1
Mason Boudreaux extended a large hand toward the president and chief executive officer of Stallion Enterprises. John Stallion shook it heartily, cementing his company’s five-billion-dollar acquisition of the Boudreaux hotel chain.
“Congratulations!” Mason intoned as John’s brother, Matthew Stallion, popped the cork on a vintage bottle of Veuve Clicquot Brut champagne.
John nodded. “And congratulations to you, as well, sir. I’m sure this means that you will be wearing retirement quite well.”
“I don’t know about retirement.” Mason let out a deep chuckle. “But I imagine I’m going to have a hell of a time with whatever my next business venture might be.”
Matthew passed each man a crystal flute filled with drink. “Well, Mason, if your next adventure is as profitable as this one was, you’ll be doing exceptionally well for yourself, my friend.”
Mason nodded his agreement as he lifted his champagne glass in salute, celebrating the sale of his hotel-owning company to the Stallion family. At his age of thirty-seven, selling the forty-five hundred hotels that constituted Boudreaux International Hotels and Resorts was a testament to his hard work and dedication. The multibillion-dollar payment was an acknowledgment of his success.
“And now that Boudreaux International is under the Stallion umbrella, I can only hope and pray that we will continue to build on all of your accomplishments,” John said, grinning broadly, “which is why I’m happy that we could convince you to stay on board in a consulting capacity. I’m certain that we’ll need to draw on your knowledge and experience.”
Mason took a sip of his drink. “It’s going to be a great partnership and I’m glad we’re keeping it in the family,” he said as he gestured in Matthew’s direction.
Matthew laughed. “I appreciate that, brother-in-law. More than you know.”
“Oh, I know!” Mason said, laughing with him. “I know my sister. I’m sure Katrina has just about worked your last nerve offering her advice about this deal. I’ve lost count of the number of times she’s wrangled me to give her opinion.”
“You know it!” Matthew said, thinking of his beautiful new wife. Mason’s sister Katrina and he had married a few weeks earlier. His whirlwind relationship with the district court judge had taken them both by surprise and now the couple was anxiously awaiting the arrival of their first child together. “And those pregnancy hormones have not helped.”
The third oldest Stallion brother, Mark, chimed in as he stepped through the conference room door. His baby daughter was clutched to his chest, the six-month-old little girl looking around in wide-eyed wonder. “Well, the wives are headed upstairs. Good news traveled fast.”
“I swear, it’s like they all have radar.” John laughed and shook his head. He leaned to nuzzle his niece’s chubby cheek.
“I heard that, John Stallion,” his wife, Marah, said as she led the way into the oversize room.
John laughed as the beautiful woman moved to his side. He leaned to kiss her lips, wrapping his arms tightly around her small frame. “I didn’t say anything, baby!”
Marah rolled her eyes as she kissed him back. “Uh-huh. Sure you didn’t!”
Mark’s wife, Michelle Stallion, waved her hand in greeting as she brought up the rear. “Hey, everyone,” she said brightly as she reached to take her daughter from her husband’s arms. Mark wrapped them both in a deep bear hug.
“Congratulations!” Katrina shouted. She moved to kiss her brother’s cheek first and then her husband’s. “This is so exciting!” she said as she nestled close against Matthew’s chest.
Matthew caressed the bulge of new baby that protruded from her abdomen, his fingers lingering where the baby kicked once, and then a second time. “Yes, it is!”
With the arrival of the women, the chatter in the room rose exponentially. Mason was feeling right at home as he looked around at the gleaming faces. Family—the best cheerleaders any man could wish for. He and his sister Katrina came from a large family, so this felt very much like home to them both. He grinned widely as he noted the endearing gestures she and her husband exchanged.
He couldn’t help being in awe of the wealth of love that filled the room. With Matthew and Katrina; John and his wife, Marah; and Mark, his wife, Michelle, and their new baby girl, Irene, the room overflowed with love.
Mason was suddenly introspective as he imagined what it might be like to have someone of his own to love. He had mastered professional success to the detriment of his personal life. Although he’d enjoyed the many beautiful women who had gone hand in hand with his lifestyle, he’d grown weary of the endless workweeks and his playboy lifestyle. Mason found himself not only ready for a change, but actively searching for the comforts family and stability would afford him. Selling his business could not have come at a more opportune time. He could feel himself grinning at the prospects.
His thoughts were interrupted by the persistent chatter. He shifted forward in his seat as he drew his focus back to the conversation.
“Where’s Luke?” Katrina was asking. “And Joanne? I thought they’d be here.”
John shook his head. “Last-minute wedding chores. They had to have their final session of couple’s counseling with Reverend Barnes, and this was the only time he could fit them in. They’ll catch up with us all later.”
“Speaking of chores,” Marah interjected. “We ladies have a very long list of things to get done. Between the rodeo and the wedding, we’ll be running from one event to the next through the end of the month, and that takes some preparing for. Each one of us is going to need a few new outfits to wear. Isn’t that right?” she said as Michelle and Katrina nodded in agreement.
Mark winked toward his brothers, shaking his head. “I told Luke to elope but no, you women had to throw in your two cents. He and Joanne could have been married by now. Done and finished. Then none of you would need to do any shopping at all!”
John laughed. “Do not get these women started, please.”
Marah tapped John against the chest. “You’ve got some nerve.”
“Don’t pay either one of them any attention,” Katrina said, rolling her eyes skyward. “Matthew will tell you that he enjoyed every second of our wedding. Didn’t you, honey?”
Matthew leaned to kiss her cheek. “That’s right, my darling! Walking down the aisle with you was the best thing I ever did,” he said, winking at the men.
Mason chuckled. “It sounds to me like you guys have your hands full.”
Matthew’s head bobbed up and down. “Oh, no, not at all,” he said, his eyes widening mischievously as Katrina punched him playfully in the arm.
Mason grinned broadly as he watched his sister and brother-in-law, the two teasing each other playfully. It had been a long time since he’d seen Katrina so happy. Joy shimmered out of her dark eyes, everything between her and her husband exemplifying the dynamic relationship they shared. An unexpected hint of jealousy flooded Mason’s spirit. As if reading his mind, Katrina moved to her big brother’s side, wrapping her arm around his broad shoulders.
“There will be a lot of beautiful, successful women for you to meet while you’re here in Dallas, Mason,” she said casually.
Mason smiled. “Really?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his chest.
Katrina nodded. “You might even find us a new sister-in-law if you play your cards right, big brother!”
Tossing his head back, Mason laughed heartily. Saying nothing aloud, he leaned to kiss his sister’s cheek. From your mouth to God’s ears, he thought to himself, his smile brightening even more. From your mouth to God’s ears!
Chapter 2
Phaedra Parrish closed and locked the front door of her family home after bidding a member from her mother’s church goodbye. People had been popping in to check on her since the funeral, and with the day being her twenty-eighth birthday, there had been a revolving door of family and friends coming to give her support. It had been a long day and an even longer month, and she was glad for the wealth of silence that quickly enveloped the room. She sighed deeply as she dropped down onto the cushioned sofa that sat opposite her mother’s favorite rocking chair.
As she stared at the empty seat, Phaedra’s tears clouded her dark eyes. It didn’t feel as if a whole month had passed since her mother, Arneta Parrish, had last rocked in that chair, everything seemingly well. Then without warning, a pulmonary embolism had taken her away. Their family doctor had reasoned that she’d probably been experiencing symptoms days earlier, the blood clot traveling from her leg to her lung. But Phaedra had not been there to know, and now her mother was gone from her.
Swiping at the tears that fell down her cheeks, Phaedra closed her eyes and inhaled, filling her lungs with a deep breath. She couldn’t help wishing that she’d come home as originally scheduled instead of extending her photography assignment those additional days. Had she been home, then just maybe her beloved mother would still be there with her.
Even as the thought crossed her mind, Phaedra could hear her mother admonishing her, the woman’s deep alto voice echoing in her thoughts. “You’re wasting time, little girl! Focus on what you need to do and get your narrow behind to doin’ somethin’ worthwhile.” And just as the thought crossed her mind, she felt a warm breeze blow through the room and a gust of wind gently caressing her cheeks.
Phaedra rose to her feet, wrapping her arms tightly around her torso. Across the room she imagined that her mother’s chair was rocking, the movement ever so slight, and she couldn’t help smiling, sensing that Miss Arneta was still there, still watching over her, still intent on keeping her on the straight and narrow. She shook her head from side to side as she laughed. “Yes, ma’am,” she said out loud, chuckling softly.
Moving through the modest home, Phaedra checked that the lower level was secure, ensuring that all the doors and windows were locked. Leaving the one light on in the hallway, she headed up the stairs, hesitating for a brief moment in front of her mother’s bedroom door. She’d known that at some point she would have to sort through her mother’s things, and although it wasn’t a task Phaedra had looked forward to, she knew it had to be done.
Pushing the door open, Phaedra flicked the light switch on the wall as she moved inside the small room. Dropping down against the full-size mattress, she drew her hands across the handmade quilt that decorated the bed. She missed her mother with a vengeance. Her grief was so consuming that she couldn’t imagine how she was going to survive. She let out a deep sigh.
As she moved to stand back up, Phaedra’s heel brushed against a large shoe box protruding from beneath the bed. Reaching down, she drew her hand against the exterior surface, pausing as she thought about its contents. She’d found the container while searching for her mother’s favorite black heels to take to the undertaker. As she’d scanned the documents inside, none of it had made any sense to her. Refusing to acknowledge what she’d discovered, she’d tossed it to the floor, kicking it back beneath the bed. She’d known that she would eventually have to revisit it all and she’d chosen to ignore it until there was nothing else on her plate to deal with.
Slipping her tank top over her head and stepping out of her shorts, she dropped the garments to the floor. Pulling back the covers, she crawled into her mother’s bed, drawing the comforter around her small frame. The box rested against the bed beside her, and her hand shook ever so slightly as she tossed the container’s cover to the floor. Pulling the documents into her lap, Phaedra took a deep breath and then a second.
If anyone had asked her about her mother having secrets, Phaedra would have sworn on her own life that there wasn’t anything about Arneta Parrish that she didn’t know. But Arneta had carried the biggest secret of her life to her grave, never disclosing the bombshell that would soon be her only daughter’s life.
Arneta’s collection of diaries rested on top. Pulling the leather-bound journals into her hands, Phaedra pulled at a black-and-white photo that served as a page holder for the most recent entry. The image was of her mother and a man Phaedra didn’t know, the couple caught in a deep embrace. Her mother was smiling, joy shining in her expression. The handsome man’s smile was not as bright, something in his eyes telling a very different story. But he had a kind face and it was obvious that his presence was making her mother very happy.
Flipping the photo over, Phaedra read the name on the back side. James David Stallion. The photo was dated a year before Phaedra was born. Resting the photo back inside the book, she continued to flip through other papers on James Stallion’s life.
There was a letter dated just a few short months after the photo, Mr. Stallion apologizing for a quick departure, wishing his dear friend Arneta a bright and successful future. The ink had faded in spots, drops of moisture having dampened the paper. It was obvious her mother had cried over that letter, remnants of her tearstains having marred some of the words.
Tucked in the envelope with that single letter was a yellowed newspaper article that had been folded closed. It was the obituary that carried the news of James Stallion’s death. The man had died in a fiery car accident with his beloved wife, Irene, the couple leaving behind four young sons.
Four sons. Four boys who’d grown to be four very successful men. Phaedra’s mother had kept tabs on the Stallion kin, collecting articles of their many accomplishments. Flipping through the articles, Phaedra couldn’t help being impressed. But she didn’t understand her mother’s reasons for caring, the woman having never mentioned the family to her daughter. Phaedra had to wonder why.
Adjusting the pillows beneath her head, Phaedra flipped through the diaries until she found the one dated the year before her birth. She opened the journal to the first page, pulling her knees upright as she rested the book against her thighs. She was suddenly anxious to know her mother’s secret and the story that she’d never been told. And she was anxious to read them in her mother’s own words.
* * *
One week later flight number 1267 from New Orleans, Louisiana, to Dallas, Texas, departed, leaving Phaedra with one hour and thirty-five minutes to rethink what she was planning to do before touching down. Her stomach knotted, feeling as if her sugared beignet and chicory coffee breakfast was not going to sit well. Phaedra knew it was only nerves, anxiety pretending to be her new best friend since she’d read her mother’s journals, opening a chapter into her own life that she’d not been prepared for.
Phaedra drew her manicured fingers against her Coach bag, two of her mother’s journals and some supporting documents secured in a side pocket. It hadn’t taken any time at all for her to go through her mother’s papers and discover that there had been much about the woman that she hadn’t known. The writings had read like a bestselling romance novel, detailing the highs of her mother’s relationship with James David Stallion. And then the lows, James David Stallion disappearing from Arneta’s life like a dream lost too soon to a morning sunrise. James leaving before ever learning about the child Arneta would eventually raise alone.
James David Stallion. Phaedra’s biological father. The secret her mother had never wanted her to know. Phaedra shook her head for the umpteenth time since finding out, her eyes lifting to stare out the airplane window. An endless bright blue sky marred by an occasional tuft of cloud brought a slight smile to her face. The view was magical, soothing the inner turmoil that threatened Phaedra’s peace of mind.
All of her life Phaedra had believed that Daniel Parrish had been her father. Daniel Parrish had only been married to her mother for short two years before disappearing into the Louisiana penal system. Reading her mother’s story, Phaedra discovered Arneta had already been pregnant when she’d met and married Daniel.
After many years of therapy Phaedra had come to terms with having an absentee father who preferred a life of crime over his loving wife and daughter. Her mother had often used her own life as an example of what happened when a woman made bad choices over men who were not deserving of her. She’d been apologetic for not having served Phaedra better.
When Daniel had died, still locked behind prison walls, Phaedra had mourned the loving father she had wanted him to be, not the apathetic parent he had actually been. And through it all, her mother had never once considered that Phaedra needed to know the truth of her paternity. But reading her mother’s words, Phaedra had come to understand that her mother had wanted only to protect both her daughter and James Stallion, the only man she’d apparently ever loved. Holding the truth close to her heart had been Arneta’s way of shielding all of them from heartbreak. But Arneta had been wrong because her heart had been broken, and now Phaedra’s heart was broken, too.
Heading to Dallas, Phaedra was now hoping for an opportunity to meet the siblings who shared her bloodline. Hoping against all odds to connect with her father’s family, the family that was also her own.
Chapter 3
“Wow!” Mason called out, his eyes widening as they settled down against the bleachers to watch the annual Wild West rodeo show that was about to begin. The entire morning had been a whirlwind of events, one happening right after the other. Mason would never have imagined the magnitude of the Briscoe-Stallion Annual Rodeo, it being the most attended community event in Dallas each year.
Briscoe Ranch was well over eight hundred acres of working cattle ranch, an equestrian center and an entertainment complex that specialized in corporate and private client services. With the property being central to Austin, Houston, Dallas and Fort Worth, Briscoe Ranch had made quite a name for itself.
Back in the day, Edward Briscoe, the ranch’s original owner, had been one of the original black cowboys. Not long after the birth of his three daughters, Eden and the twins, Marla and Marah, he and his first wife had expanded their Texas longhorn operation, adding two twenty-thousand-square-feet event barns and a country bed-and-breakfast.
After Marah Briscoe’s marriage to business tycoon John Stallion, Edward had given the property to his daughter and new son-in-law, her love for a Stallion ending the conflict that had brought the couple together in the first place. Under the Stallion family umbrella, Briscoe Ranch was growing steadily and now a point of consideration for a number of government programs to assist children and families in need. The ranch was home to them all, and the pride and joy of both families.
“This is something!” Mason said, tipping his head toward John and Matthew, who’d settled down beside him.
John laughed. “Marah’s father, Edward, has been hosting this event since forever. Every year we’re amazed at just how big it’s gotten.”
Matthew nodded his concurrence. “At the rate we’re growing, I’m afraid we might run out of land to accommodate everyone,” he said jokingly.
John and Mason both laughed with him.
“So, what then?” Mason queried. “Will you buy the state of Texas?”
John grinned broadly. “Maybe Mexico, too, especially if we keep allowing these women to be in charge!” he mused.
Laughter rang out among them, the three men clearly having a good time.
From a safe distance across the way, Phaedra adjusted the lens on her camera, focusing her sight on the two brothers seated beside each other. She snapped a photo and then a second one before letting the camera rest back against her chest, hanging from a secure leather strap around her neck.
The rodeo event had been a stroke of luck for her. Access to the ranch and the Stallion men had come with minimal difficulty. From the moment Phaedra had stepped onto the property, the brothers had been front and center, taking their hosting responsibilities seriously. Without needing to ask, Phaedra had been able to identify the four of them almost instantly.
From the back pocket of her denim jeans, Phaedra pulled out the photograph she’d found in her mother’s possessions, glancing from them to it and back again. There was no mistaking the Stallion lineage detailed in their facial features, each son the spitting image of his father, and hers. Their resemblance to her was even more startling. From the warm coloration of their black-coffee complexions, chiseled jawlines, plush pillows for lips and warm, endearing smiles, Phaedra saw hints of her own reflection. She had their eyes, the same nose, high cheekbones and mouth. Had she inherited her father’s dark complexion instead of her mother’s milk-chocolate tone, she would easily have passed for a Stallion twin. Phaedra took a deep breath as she suddenly fought not to cry.
Lifting her camera back to her eyes, she peered through the lens, once again pointing it toward where the brothers sat. She focused her gaze on one and then the other. She watched as the brother on the end leaned over to exchange conversation with a man who sat on his sibling’s other side. Phaedra shifted her camera and refocused it, zooming in on the stranger. There was something about the handsome man that suddenly had her curious. She couldn’t help wondering who he was, his brilliant smile warm and magnanimous.
Whoever the man was, he was quite good-looking, Phaedra thought as she spun the lens into focus, snapping a quick shot and then a second. The trio seemed quite friendly with one another, clearly enjoying the events playing out in the center of the arena. And then, as if his radar had sounded an alarm, the man suddenly looked up, his gaze shifting directly toward her as if he knew she was staring at him. Phaedra lowered her camera abruptly, feeling as if she’d gotten caught with both hands in the cookie jar, her palms overflowing with her favorite oatmeal-raisin treats. She pulled her hands through the length of her hair. The moment was slightly unnerving.
From the ground below, Phaedra suddenly heard her name being called, the sound of it startling her from her thoughts.
“Phaedra? Is that you? Phaedra Parrish!”
Glancing below, she caught sight of the red-haired white man waving wildly for her attention. His own cameras hung down against his side as he struggled not to drop them. Phaedra’s eyes widened brightly, the familiar face warming her spirit.
“Hooper!” Phaedra squealed, waving back. She eased her way down from the bleachers to move to the man’s side.
With his mane of fire-engine-red hair and the pipe that hung from his mouth like an appendage, Hooper Mars was a welcome sight, looking more like a lumberjack right out of the thick of a deep forest than the award-winning photographer that he was. Hooper’s brilliant smile put Phaedra instantly at ease. As she stepped off the last plank, the man wrapped her in a deep bear hug.
Her mentor in art school, Hooper was single-
handedly responsible for Phaedra changing her major from creative writing to photography. The two had become fast friends, he challenging her creative spirit and she excelling beyond his expectations. Phaedra’s successful career had only been rivaled by his.
“Watch the camera!” Phaedra laughed, lifting the device above her head as she hugged him tightly.
“Nice equipment,” Hooper responded, eyeing her Canon 5D Mark II full-frame camera with its long telephoto lens.
Phaedra adjusted her Lowepro camera backpack against her shoulder. “Thanks. What are you doing here?” she asked, surprise still ringing in her tone.
“Working. You?”
“Not working!” Phaedra said with a smile.
“So, what brings you all the way to Dallas and to here of all places?”
Phaedra hesitated, her shoulders shrugging skyward. “I was just passing through town before I head to my next gig in Thailand and I heard about the rodeo. Thought I’d stop by to check it out. See what I might be able to shoot,” she said, hoping she sounded believable.
Her friend nodded his understanding. “I was really sorry to hear about your mother, Phaedra. She was a really sweet lady.”
Phaedra took a deep breath and forced her mouth into a slight smile. “Thanks, Hooper. And thank you for the flowers! I really appreciated you thinking of me.”
“Hey, what are friends for?” the man said. There was a sudden rush of noise behind them as the audience cheered something going on in the center of the arena. Both Phaedra and Hooper both turned to stare as a horse and rider went through their paces.
“I should be shooting this,” Phaedra said absently, her gaze shifting for a split second toward the stands and the men who were still sitting in observation.
“Speaking of shoot, I loved that LeBron James layout you did for Sports Illustrated. Creative, challenging, technically proficient. That was some nice work, woman. That shot where you had him hanging upside down from the basketball hoop was seriously dope!”
Phaedra turned her attention back to her friend. “Thank you! It was fun to do and LeBron was a dream client. So, what are you working on here?”
“I’m here to shoot the wedding.”
Phaedra eyed him curiously. “What wedding?”
“The Stallion wedding. I’m the wedding photographer.”
Phaedra laughed. “I didn’t know you did weddings.”
Hooper shrugged. “I usually don’t, not in a good long time, but I bend the rules for my very special friends. The bride,” he said, lifting his eyebrows, “is Joanne Lake. We were roomies for a short time back in Cali when she was going to art school and I was aspiring to make movies.”
“I didn’t know you made movies.”
Hooper laughed. “It was a very short porn career because I was very short.”
Phaedra shook her head, laughing with him. “So, this Joanne Lake is getting married to one of the Stallions?”
“Yep!” Hooper nodded. “The youngest brother, Luke Stallion. Great guy! They make a nice couple.”
Phaedra felt her heart skip a quick beat. Knowing where she fell in the lineup of Stallion offspring had been a point of angst for her mother. During their short tryst, James Stallion had been married, the truth of that coming as a complete surprise. Although he’d been separated from his wife during the time they were together, the revelation of his marital connection had not sat well with the matriarch. James returning to his wife and three older sons had been earth-shattering, completely devastating Arneta’s world. Now here Phaedra was, discovering that her younger brother was about to be married. She took a deep breath, holding it for a brief moment before blowing the air out slowly.
“Hey,” Hooper said suddenly. “What are you doing tonight? You interested in working?”
Phaedra lifted her eyebrows questioningly. “What do you need?”
“I have an assistant who will be helping me, but I could always use another photographer. You interested in working? I mean, since you already have your equipment with you.”
“At the wedding?”
“The wedding and the reception. You game?”
Taking another quick glance toward where the Stallion men were seated, Phaedra suddenly saw opportunity where none had existed before. Unable to resist, she took note of the handsome stranger one last time, then without a second thought nodded, her answer emphatic. “Yes!”
* * *
Joanne Lake stood in the center of the room, a hand fanning in front of her face as she tried to catch her breath.
“I swear,” she said, breathing heavily, “I’m so nervous that I can’t breathe!”
Marah laughed, moving to the young woman’s side. “I felt the same way when John and I were married,” she said, remembering the moment as if it had just happened. “Just take a deep breath, hold it and relax. Everything is going to be perfect.”
“Absolutely,” Joanne’s mother, Lillian Taylor, echoed as she slowly laced the back of her only daughter’s wedding gown. “Everything will be beautiful, ma fille chéri,” the woman said, the warm lilt of her deep French accent comforting.
Tears misted in Joanne’s eyes as she took in her image in the mirror. The gown she’d designed for herself accentuated every ounce of her curvaceous frame. She was an absolutely stunning bride in the silk-and-organza creation and she couldn’t wait for Luke to see her coming down the aisle that very first time. She took in a deep breath, fighting to ease the rise of nervous energy.
There was a low knock at the door and Marah’s older sister, Eden, moved to see who was waiting on the other side. When Eden pulled the entrance open, Phaedra was smiling brightly, waving her camera in greeting.
“Hi, I’ve come to take some preliminary shots of the bride, if that’s okay?” Phaedra said, meeting Eden’s questioning gaze.
“Oh, yes, definitely,” the woman responded as she reached for Phaedra’s hand and pulled her into the room. “Your timing is perfect.”
Phaedra nodded as she entered the space, the women inside all turning to stare in her direction. Joanne’s bright smile eased the moment.
“Hi, I’m Joanne. Hooper said you’d be coming. It’s such a pleasure to meet you,” she said excitedly.
“It’s nice to meet you, too. My name’s Phaedra. Phaedra Parrish,” she said, pausing momentarily as if she hoped there might be some recognition that she was family, too. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you,” Joanne intoned. “Thank you so much. Well, just tell us where you want us.”
Phaedra smiled back. “I just want you to finish getting dressed. Just interact the way you were doing before I arrived and pretend I’m not even here. The best shots are those where you’re most natural, so just be yourself.”
Joanne nodded as her mother moved back to lacing the last few ties on her gown. As she did, Phaedra lifted her camera and took a quick shot. She began to slowly move around the room, snapping photo after photo of Joanne and her bridal party as they completed the finishing touches on their makeup and hair. It was an extravaganza of ivory-colored lace, chocolate charmeuse and tan chiffon.
“This is so exciting!” Katrina commented, smoothing the front of her own gown across her pregnant belly.
“This family has definitely had its fair share of weddings and baby showers!” an elderly woman intoned. “It’s been a blessing!” She swiped at a tear that pressed anxiously at the edge of her eye.
Phaedra paused to look where the voice had come from. Seated on the couch was a woman close to her mother’s age. She looked quite smart in a two-piece dress suit the color of sweet tea. She smiled when she saw Phaedra staring. Phaedra smiled back as she lifted her camera and took a snapshot of the woman’s smiling face.
“Don’t you start crying, Aunt Juanita,” someone scolded. “If you start you’ll have us all crying up in here.”
The women all laughed, the warmth of it echoing around the room.
“Y’all know I’m gonna cry,” the woman named Juanita said. “The last of my babies is getting married,” she said with a loud sniffle. A blanket of silence dropped down against the room as they all stopped to take in her comment.
Phaedra’s gaze danced from face to face as she took them all in. Juanita caught her staring and Phaedra fiddled with her camera as the woman stared back.
“Are you from around here?” Juanita asked, her question directed at Phaedra.
The young woman met the matriarch’s curious gaze. “No, ma’am. I’m from New Orleans,” she said softly.
Juanita smiled, still staring. “You look like you could be related to the family,” she said, “like one of the cousins. Doesn’t she?” Juanita queried, moving the rest of them to turn and stare a second time.
Joanne glanced in Phaedra’s direction. “You really do,” she said with a slight giggle.
Phaedra only smiled, resuming her picture-taking.
Marah interrupted the moment. “It’s time, ladies. This wedding will start on time,” she said, her tone commanding as she shifted into wedding planner mode.
There were nods of agreement as each woman paused to take one last look at her reflection in the wall of mirrors that decorated the space.
The woman they called Aunt Juanita stood up, moving to the center of the room toward the bride, who suddenly looked as if she’d turned two shades of green.
“Everyone join hands,” Juanita said as she gestured for them to move into a circle around Joanne.
Phaedra moved back against the wall, mindful not to intrude upon the moment. She listened intently as the woman began to speak, her camera at eye level as she captured the moment on film.
“This family is a beautiful thing to behold,” Juanita said. “I have watched John, Matthew, Mark and Luke grow into wonderful men. I know that if their parents were here today they would be very proud. Each of them has chosen an amazing, wonderful woman to carry the Stallion name and be with them by their sides. They got that from their daddy because their mother, Irene, was an amazing woman and the best friend I could ever have had.”
Juanita paused to press a lace hankie to her eye. Her gaze paused on each face as she called out their names. “Marah, Michelle, Katrina and now Joanne, each of you is the most important thing in your husband’s life and the lifelines that will continue this family. Don’t you ever forget it and don’t ever let anyone tell you otherwise.
“Marah, business is important to John, but it will never be more important than you are. Mitch,” she said, calling Michelle by her family nickname, “I never thought there would be anyone who could tame that wild Stallion, but you did, and Mark’s love for you and that baby girl of yours has no limits.
“Katrina, you told me on your wedding day that Matthew seduced you, but you’re the one who actually swept Matthew off his feet. I have never seen him happier.” Juanita reached for Joanne’s hand, squeezing the woman’s fingers beneath her own. “And now our baby boy is getting married. Joanne, you and Luke were both lost until you found each other’s arms for support. He is a better man because of you and I couldn’t be more proud.
“So, baby girl, you enjoy every minute of this very special day. May you and Luke grow in your love for each other and may you both find joy and happiness for the rest of your days. Welcome to our family. We love you and we couldn’t be happier for you both.”
“Amen to that,” Marah chimed, everyone echoing those sentiments.
Joanne fanned her hands in front of her face, fighting not to bawl like a newborn baby. “Thank you,” she said, fighting back the tears. “I love you all so much,” she said as her mother wrapped her in a warm embrace.
Juanita moved toward the door. “Well, let’s go get you married!” she said, the rest of them following behind her.
And as they moved out of the room, in the direction of the family chapel, Phaedra swiped the tears from her own eyes, snapping one more photo for the Stallion wedding album.
Chapter 4
Mason Boudreaux was all partied out as he moved from the tented reception area back toward the Stallion family home. Guests were still enjoying the Stallion hospitality as they moved from the banquet tables laden with a surplus of food to the dance floor and back again.
Outside, the sun was in the final moments of its descent, the backdrop of a darkening sky heightening the rise of an almost full moon. Small white lights twinkled from the trees that lined the property, casting a seductive glow over the landscape. Looking out over the magnificent view, he couldn’t help being touched by the magnitude of it all. He took a deep breath, filling his lungs with the warm evening air.
As he slowly strolled in the direction of the family’s home he couldn’t help noticing the beautiful woman who stood with her camera in hand snapping photographs. He had noticed her earlier in the day as she’d taken photographs of the crowd at the rodeo and he’d noticed her during the wedding ceremony and again at the reception. In fact, so in awe of her, he’d spent a good deal of time noticing her, almost forgetting why he was there in the first place.
The exquisite woman was casually dressed in black slacks, a white button-down dress shirt and red Durango cowboy boots. The slacks were cut low against the curve of her round hips and she had the tiniest waist of any woman he had ever seen. Having more leg than torso, she appeared model-tall despite her petite stature. The lengthy appendages gave her the lean, lanky look of a gazelle, and the curvature of her full bustline showed that she clearly had more than a handful. Her flawless complexion was milk chocolate, so rich and decadent that with her distinct features he could easily see her posing on the other side of any camera.
He wasn’t quite sure what she was focused on as she stared out in the distance, but with the large telephoto lens and the light that flashed with each snap he was intrigued, curious to discover who she was and what she might be up to.
He casually strolled to her side, his movements so stealthlike that Phaedra didn’t notice him until he was standing directly behind her. She jumped, suddenly taken by surprise as the man stepped into her space.
“Good evening,” Mason said, a bright smile warming the curvature of his face.
“You scared me,” Phaedra gasped, pressing a hand to her chest.
Mason’s smile brightened. “My apologies! I didn’t mean to frighten you.”
“That’s what usually happens when you sneak up on a person,” she said, her heart still racing.
“I wasn’t sneaking,” Mason said casually. “You were just distracted. What are you photographing?” he asked as he looked off toward where she’d been staring.
Phaedra was still eyeing him with reservation. When he cut his eye at her and back toward the landscape, a wave of heat suddenly coursed up the length of her spine. He cut his eye at her a second time, a wry smile pulling at his full lips as he waited for her reply.
Phaedra tilted her camera so that he could see the LCD display, depressing the display button so that he could view the images she’d just taken. “Foxes,” she said nonchalantly. “There was a family of red foxes scurrying along the fence line.”
The man nodded as he met her gaze. “Interesting,” he said, his deep voice echoing through the evening air. He extended his hand. “I’m Mason Boudreaux,” he said as he wrapped Phaedra’s fingers beneath his own.
“Phaedra,” she answered, the heat he radiated causing her to take a swift breath. “Phaedra Parrish.”
“It’s very nice to meet you, Phaedra Parrish.”
Phaedra smiled, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush that heated her cheeks. “The pleasure is all mine, Mason Boudreaux.”
“You have a very distinct accent,” Mason said, noting her deep Southern dialect with its hint of French Creole syntax. “Where are you from in Louisiana?”
“Good ear,” she said, smiling sweetly. “New Orleans. Born and raised.”
He chuckled softly. “Me, too, although I live in Arizona now.”
“I don’t hear any accent,” Phaedra said, eyeing him with a raised brow.
Mason laughed, shifting into the familiar phonology. “Y’all headed up da house o’ ova back da fields?”
Phaedra laughed with him, the warmth of the sound teasing. “So, why Arizona?”
Mason became pensive, hesitating in reflection for a brief moment. “My family was displaced after Hurricane Katrina,” he finally said, noting the 2005 category-five storm that had been one of the worst natural disasters on record. “I’d already had a house there and my parents decided to stay when their home was destroyed.”
“They didn’t want to go back?” Phaedra questioned.
Mason shrugged. “They did and actually, they’re back and forth as it suits them. We’re still rebuilding the family home, but it’s been slow going. That storm really broke their spirits for a bit. And it didn’t help that my sister shared its name,” he said with slight chuckle. “For whatever reasons, they haven’t been in any rush.”
Phaedra nodded her understanding. “My mother refused to leave. I was traveling so much for business that she couldn’t imagine herself being able to adjust anywhere else. It took everything we both had to repair the damage after the storm, but it was worth it. New Orleans was her home and she was determined to live out the rest of her life where she was happiest. She passed away a few weeks ago,” Phaedra said, her voice catching in her throat as she thought about her mother.
“My condolences,” Mason said, taking a step in her direction. He drew his hand against the length of her arm. “I’m very sorry for your loss.”
Phaedra nodded ever so slightly. His touch was so powerful that her mind suddenly turned to mush. Phaedra couldn’t begin to fathom why she was reacting so intensely. She took a deep breath as she took a step back, suddenly needing to put some distance between them.
Feeling the same thing, Mason crossed his arms over his broad chest, locking his hands beneath his armpits. He hadn’t meant to be so forward. There was a brief pause as both pondered how to move past the awkwardness of the moment.
“So, did you enjoy the wedding?” Phaedra asked, wanting to move the conversation in another direction.
“I did. How about you?”
She nodded. “They throw quite a shindig around here.”
Mason laughed. “Yes, they do.”
“Are you family?” Phaedra asked, curiosity tinting her words.
“By marriage. My sister Katrina is married to Matthew Stallion.”
Phaedra’s head bobbed against her thin neck a second time. “Your sister, she’s pregnant.”
“You’ve met?”
“Not formally. She was with the bride when I took photographs earlier and I noticed.”
The man nodded. “This will be her second child, their first baby together. We’re all very excited. So, are you related to the Stallions?” Mason asked, having noted a resemblance between Phaedra and the brothers.
There was an awkward pause as Phaedra turned to stare out into the distance. She suddenly wished there was someone with whom she could share her story. Mason appeared to have a compassionate spirit, the breadth of it tempting Phaedra to drop her guard and spill her secret. But Mason’s connection to the Stallions made him a highly unlikely ally. After a pause, Phaedra gave a deep sigh and said nothing at all, pretending as though she’d not even heard the question. She lifted her camera, aimed it directly at Mason and snapped the shot, once, twice and then a third time.
Mason found himself smiling, not expecting to suddenly be the center of attention. He shook his head as Phaedra smiled back at him. After a quick moment of silence, Mason spoke. “Well, you look busy, so I’ll get out of your way. This was fun, Phaedra Parrish,” he concluded, moving as if to leave her side.
Phaedra smiled, meeting his gaze. “Perhaps we’ll run into each other again in N’Orleans,” she said brightly.
Mason grinned as he lifted his hand in a slight wave. Then as if a lightbulb had gone off in his head, he spun back toward her. “Phaedra, are you doing anything tomorrow?” he questioned.
Phaedra met his gaze. “What did you have in mind?”
“I was thinking breakfast, sightseeing, lunch, maybe even dinner. I haven’t had an opportunity to explore Dallas yet, so we can make a day of it if you don’t have any plans.”
She hesitated only briefly, then nodded, excitement painting her expression. “That sounds like it would be a lot of fun. I’d like that a lot.”
“Where are you staying?” Mason asked.
“The Four Seasons.”
“I’ll pick you up in the morning. Will eight o’clock work for you?”
“I’ll be ready at eight,” Phaedra answered.
Mason tossed her a quick wink of his eye. “See you tomorrow, Phaedra Parrish!”
Her eyes widening in delight, Phaedra watched as Mason eased his way in the direction of the large homestead. He paused briefly on the front porch to toss her one last wave before he disappeared inside. Lifting her eyes to stare at the moon, Phaedra bubbled with excitement. She suddenly couldn’t wait for tomorrow to happen.
Chapter 5
Phaedra was only slightly taken aback when the luxury limousine pulled up in front of the Four Seasons Hotel, the driver beckoning for her attention. She was a bit perturbed when there was no sign of Mason Boudreaux, only instructions for her to be delivered to where he was. Granted, she didn’t date often, but when she did she was accustomed to the man actually picking her up. She considered casting one strike against him but hesitated, deciding to at least wait to see where he was waiting for her before she put him on her short list.
When the vehicle pulled into the circular drive of Briscoe Ranch, Phaedra’s stomach suddenly did backflips. She hadn’t anticipated returning to the Stallion family home so soon and definitely not as the guest of a man she’d just met. Nervous tension creased the lines of her forehead. Since the wedding and the close proximity of the brothers, Phaedra had been in turmoil trying to decide if, when and how she might be able to tell them who she was and what she’d recently learned about her paternity.
* * *
As the driver came to a halt in front of the family home, Mason stood at the foot of the stairwell, anxiously awaiting Phaedra’s arrival. He’d tossed and turned most of the night thinking about the beautiful woman who’d captured his attention, and he’d been overly anxious to see Phaedra again. He brushed the driver aside as he leaned to open the limo door.
“Good morning,” Mason said eagerly, reaching for her hand.
“Good morning to you,” Phaedra answered as she stepped out of the vehicle, clasping Mason’s hand for support. She gave him a hesitant smile. “I wasn’t expecting all this,” she said, gesturing at the car, the driver and their surroundings.
Mason laughed warmly, a chuckle rising from deep in his midsection. “Neither was I. But it seems I was expected at the family breakfast this morning and although I tried to get out of it, the family wouldn’t let me. So it just made sense for me to send the car for you to join us while my sister lectured me on what I should and shouldn’t do on our date today.”
Phaedra laughed with him. “Instructions! So you don’t date often, I take it.”
“Apparently, to hear my sister tell it, not the right way!” the man answered as he cupped his hand beneath her elbow and guided her up the deep steps to the front door.
“Are you sure I won’t be intruding?” Phaedra asked, anxiety spinning in the air around her.
Mason shook his head. “Not at all. In fact—” he started just as the front door was thrown open, Marah and Katrina stepping outside to interrupt.
“Good morning!” both women said simultaneously.
“Good morning,” Phaedra answered, her eyes widening.
Katrina leaned to give her a warm hug. “Welcome! I’m Katrina Stallion, Mason’s sister, and I’m so excited to see you. We didn’t get a chance to officially meet yesterday.”
“I’m Phaedra,” she responded, tossing Mason a quick glance.
The man shook his head. “Be careful,” he cautioned, his tone suddenly serious. “If you stand still too long, I’m told, these two will have you married and pregnant before you realize it.”
Katrina rolled her eyes skyward. “Ignore my brother, please. Not that it would hurt him to be married and pregnant,” she said as she cradled her bulging belly. “We’re just excited to see him with a woman our parents would approve of.”
Marah laughed. “And Phaedra’s not running yet, so there’s still hope we haven’t scared her off!” she said teasingly.
Phaedra laughed with them. “I don’t scare that easily,” she quipped as they welcomed her inside the large home.
“That’s good,” Katrina said, “because we enjoy giving Mason a hard time. But really, we’re delighted you could join us for breakfast, although I admit it’s not like we gave you much of a choice.”
Mason shook his head as he instinctively reached for Phaedra’s hand, clasping her fingers between his own. Her comfort level rose exponentially.
“I appreciate you including me,” Phaedra said, squeezing his fingers ever so slightly.
Both Katrina and Marah were grinning broadly as they led the way into the oversize kitchen and family room. There was a crowd of family who greeted them as they made their way inside.
“Let me introduce you to everyone,” Marah said as she pulled Phaedra from Mason’s grasp. “Everyone, this is Mason’s new friend, Phaedra Parrish,” she said. “Phaedra, this is the family.” Marah gestured around the large oak table. “This is my father, Edward Briscoe, and his wife, Juanita. And that handsome guy right there is my husband, John Stallion.”
Phaedra stared as John came to his feet and shook her hand, his smile warm and inviting. Marah continued down the line.
“That woman over there who looks like me, but not as cute, is my twin sister, Marla, her husband, Michael, and that cutie pie in her lap is their son, Michael Jr.”
“Hi,” the toddler said, eagerly waving both hands in Phaedra’s direction.
“Hi,” Phaedra said, grinning brightly as she waved back at him. “Aren’t you an absolute doll!”
The little boy laughed happily.
Marah chuckled softly. “And this is John’s brother Matthew.”
“He’s mine,” Katrina said as she eased her pregnant body into the seat beside her husband, reaching to kiss his lips as she did.
Marah shook her head as she went on. “The big guy holding that baby girl there is Mark, and his daughter’s name is Irene.”
Mark lifted a hand and gave Phaedra a slight wave. “Nice to meet you!”
“And you probably remember Mark’s wife, Michelle, from the wedding yesterday.”
“Everyone calls me Mitch,” Michelle said as she adjusted a spit towel over her husband’s shoulder, moving him to lift their baby to his shoulder to burp the air from her tummy.
“Hi,” Phaedra said softly. “She’s a beautiful baby!”
Mark grinned. “Thank you. Takes after her daddy!” he said with a wink of his eye.
Everyone shook their head. Marah continued down the line. “And of course, you remember the bride and groom from yesterday, Luke and Joanne.”
“Thank you again for everything,” Joanne said as she looped her arm through her new husband’s, leaning her head against his shoulder. “You and Hooper did a great job!”
Phaedra nodded. “Hooper’s a thrill to work with. I’m glad I was available to assist him.”
“Well, he certainly speaks very highly of you,” Luke added. “Your reputation preceded you.”
“Thank you,” Phaedra said.
“And last but definitely not least,” Marah concluded, gesturing toward the end of the table, “this is Vanessa Long, a dear family friend, and her baby boy, Vaughan.”
“Hey, hey, hey!” Vanessa said, her baby boy clutched awkwardly beneath her arm as she maneuvered a plate in one hand and a bottle in the other.
“I declare,” Juanita intoned, moving swiftly to take the baby from Vanessa’s hold. “Girl, you gon’ drop that baby holding him like that!”
The family laughed, heads shaking.
“Y’all gon’ make my boy soft the way you keep coddling him,” Vanessa said. “I need to keep him on his toes. If he bounces once or twice, it’ll toughen him up.”
Juanita gave the woman a swift slap to the back of her head.
“Ouch, Aunt Juanita!” Vanessa yelled. “That hurt.”
“Love tap!” the brothers chorused, everyone breaking out into laughter.
Wide-eyed, Phaedra was suddenly aware of the large hand pressing gently against her lower back, Mason standing comfortably beside her.
“You look overwhelmed!” he said teasingly. “You don’t have any siblings, do you?”
She hesitated, her gaze moving along the row of eyes that were staring back at her. Stammering slightly, she shrugged. “I was raised as an only child,” she said, “so this is very different for me.”
Michelle nodded. “You get used to it,” she said. “I was an only child, too.”
“So was I,” Joanne echoed.
“Please, have a seat,” John said, gesturing toward the two empty place settings across from him and Matthew.
“Thank you,” Phaedra said as Mason guided her to a chair, pulling it out as she took a seat. He dropped into the chair beside her.
“Ignore this bunch,” John said, meeting Phaedra’s gaze. “They always get out of hand at family breakfast.” His smile was warm and welcoming.
“You all do this often?” Phaedra questioned, her curiosity piqued.
“Every Sunday,” John answered. “Once our business went public, Aunt Juanita insisted on it. She felt like we were losing touch with each other.”
“It was the only way to get them to relax over a meal,” Juanita said, still rocking Vanessa’s baby in the cradle of her arms.
“We have two rules for family breakfast,” Marah said. “Everyone must show up unless they’re out of town. And there is no business discussed. Ever.”
“Wow,” Phaedra said, impressed. “And everyone always complies?”
John nodded. “It’s kept us grounded. Spending a few hours together just being brothers with our families has kept us from taking ourselves too seriously.”
“So, where are you from, Phaedra?” Luke asked, resting his chin in his hands as he leaned on the table.
“N’Orleans,” Phaedra answered. She twisted a napkin nervously in her lap.
“So are we!” Katrina said excitedly. “Or at least that’s where our parents are from. Our father was active army, so we were military brats and traveled around, but the older kids, Mason, Donovan, Kendrick and Kamaya, were all born in New Orleans. I was born in Germany but I can’t tell you where the rest of them were born.”
Phaedra glanced toward Mason. “How many brothers and sisters do you have?”
Mason laughed. “There are nine of us.” He cut an eye at his sister. “Our family meals are quite a bit bigger,” he said, his sister nodding her agreement.
Phaedra shook her head and laughed, totally in awe of it all.
Food suddenly appeared out of nowhere, platters of every breakfast item imaginable being passed around the table. Between the food and the fellowship, it was an overabundance of everything. So much so that Phaedra felt as if she were on sensory overload.
She pushed at the eggs on her plate, her stomach still doing flips as she realized she was actually having breakfast with her brothers. Her brothers. John, Matthew, Mark and Luke. The only family she had left. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath and then a second before opening them to find John staring at her curiously. She gave him a slight smile, unnerved by the look he was giving her.
A lanky teenager suddenly entered the room, waving his hand sheepishly at everyone around the table. “Good morning,” he said as he reached for an empty plate. Greetings rang back in his direction.
“Collin Broomes, you’re late,” Katrina chastised, her eyebrows raised as she massaged a hand over her swollen stomach.
“Sorry, Mom,” the man-child named Collin answered. “I was helping them muck the stables. It took longer than I expected.”
“I hope you took a shower,” his mother said, her tone questioning.
Collin rolled his eyes. “Yes, ma’am. That’s why I’m late.” He moved to an empty chair at the kitchen counter, his plate now filled with bacon and toast.
Matthew chuckled. “I wasn’t expecting you to do that before breakfast, son,” he said, pride gleaming from his eyes.
The teen nodded. “I know, sir, but I wanted to get it out of the way so that I could ride after breakfast. If that’s okay?”
“That’s definitely okay,” Matthew said. He nodded in Phaedra’s direction. “Phaedra, this is our son, Collin. Collin, this is Miss Parrish, your uncle Mason’s friend.”
Collin tossed his hand hello, his mouth stuffed with food.
“Please, call me Phaedra,” she said, waving back.
“Nice to meet you, Miss Phaedra,” Collin answered after swallowing. He pointed a finger in Mason’s direction, winked at his uncle and grinned.
Mason shook his head as he cut a quick glance at Phaedra.
“Y’all are funny,” Phaedra said, lifting her eyes to meet his gaze. She laughed, dropping her manicured hand against his thigh as she leaned her shoulder into his. A jolt of electricity shot through his body and he felt himself quiver from the sensation.
Mason was enjoying every ounce of the moment, conversation flowing with ease. Phaedra didn’t seem at all bothered by the family gathering. He understood that this was not at all what she’d been expecting and he was impressed by her sportsmanship, his charming companion seeming very much at ease with their additional breakfast companions.
“So, Phaedra, do you have family in New Orleans?” John suddenly asked.
Phaedra shook her head. “No,” she said, her voice catching deep in her throat.
Mason noticed her discomfort at the question. He intervened on her behalf. “Phaedra’s mother just passed away a few weeks ago,” he said softly.
“Oh, we’re so sorry,” Marah interjected, everyone turning to stare at the young woman.
“We’re very sorry for your loss,” Matthew added.
Phaedra nodded, biting down against her bottom lip. She suddenly missed her mother more than she had imagined possible.
“We lost our parents many years ago,” John said as he reached a large hand across the table to brush his fingers against the back of her hand. “I know it’s not easy.”
Phaedra met his stare, holding it ever so briefly, before she pulled her hand from his, clutching her palms together in her lap. She turned to meet Mason’s intense gaze, then dropped her stare into her lap with her hands. Tears suddenly pressed hot behind her eyelids. She felt her body begin to shake and she was grateful for the chair beneath her bottom, which kept her from falling to the floor. She swiped at her eyes with the backs of her hands, heat rising to her cheeks as she fought to contain the rise of emotion that was threatening to spill out of her.
“What about your father?” Katrina asked softly. “Is he still alive?”
Everyone in the room was suddenly taken aback when Phaedra suddenly began to sob, her body quivering out of control. Concern wafted thickly around the space.
“Phaedra? What’s wrong?” Mason questioned, wrapping an arm around the back of her chair as he leaned in to whisper in her ear. He pressed a napkin to her cheek to stall the flow of saline that rained over her cheeks.
“I’m sorry,” Phaedra apologized. “I am so sorry. I didn’t mean…” she gasped, trying to catch her breath as the sobs racked her body.
Mason gently caressed her back, his large hands stroking the width of her shoulders. He was without words, not having a clue what he could say to soothe her. His gaze met John’s, the man’s stare acknowledging the same sentiment, both lost when it came to a woman’s tears.
Juanita was suddenly at her side, a box of tissues in hand. The older woman brushed a warm hand against Phaedra’s shoulder. “It’s okay, baby. You cry if you want to,” she said as she lifted Phaedra’s chin with her fingers, brushing the young woman’s tears away. She suddenly hesitated, staring deeply. “I declare, child, you look just like Luke when you cry. He gets the ugly face, too,” she said, shaking her head.
John laughed. “I was just thinking the same thing,” he said, hoping to diffuse the seriousness of the moment. “But your ugly face is definitely prettier than Luke’s is,” he added.
Luke rolled his eyes. “First off, I don’t cry, and when I do, I don’t get the ugly face.”
“Yeah, you do,” Mark chimed in. “And you used to boo-hoo like a baby back in the day. Right up to your sixteenth birthday you’d cry if someone looked at you funny.”
Sixteen years old himself, Collin laughed heartily at the thought.
“That is so not true,” Luke said.
Phaedra suddenly came to her feet, the napkin in her lap dropping to the floor. She turned her attention to Juanita, who was still trying to console her, something in the woman’s stare seeming to acknowledge more than she’d spoken. “Did you by chance know my mother, Miss Juanita? Her name was Arneta Parrish.”
Juanita paused, the name spinning through her thoughts. Her eyes suddenly widened, her body tensing. She took a swift breath. “Your mother was Arneta Parrish?”
Phaedra nodded, her gaze still locked with Juanita’s.
“Why don’t you and I go fix your face?” Juanita said, her hand pressing against Phaedra’s arm. “We can talk where it’s quiet.”
“You know, don’t you?” Phaedra questioned suddenly.
“Know what?” John asked curiously, noting the rise of tension that had suddenly filled the space between the two women.
Both turned to stare in his direction. Juanita’s gaze moved back to Phaedra, her body starting to shake with nervousness. Phaedra was still staring at John, her gaze moving from his face, to Matthew’s, then to Mark and Luke before she locked eyes with him one last time, his stare still questioning.
Phaedra’s next words came like lead weights dropping heavily against a wooden floor. “Your father, James David Stallion, was my father, too.”
Chapter 6
Phaedra was visibly shaken as she maneuvered her way down the front steps of the family home. Not having a clue how to access the driver and car who’d brought her there, she began to walk as fast as she could, wanting to be as far from all of them as she could possibly manage.
Nothing that had happened in the past ten minutes had been as she’d imagined. After dropping the bombshell that she was James Stallion’s only daughter, she’d spewed every detail of what she knew, the words spilling out of her mouth like water from a faucet. She couldn’t even remember taking a breath as she’d told them all how James and her mother had had an affair resulting in her conception.
Phaedra hadn’t known what to expect, but she’d not been at all prepared for the wave of hostility that had suddenly engulfed her. Mark had been the most vocal, insisting there was no way possible for them to share a bloodline. But it was John and his wealth of silence that had been the most unnerving. And when she’d been done, having no other information to share, John had stormed out of the room, brushing past her with a rage that left her feeling completely annihilated, his anguished stare cutting through her like ice.
* * *
“She’s lying,” Mark said as he paced the floor in the home’s library. “There is no way she’s our sister. We don’t have a sister. We can’t have a sister.”
John stood staring out the large picture window to the fields in the distance. Matthew stared where he stared as Luke drummed his fingers against the oak-topped desk.
“Would Dad have cheated on our mom?” Luke questioned, looking from one brother to the other. He’d only been two years old when his parents had died, and the thought discredited everything he’d ever been told about them.
“No,” Mark answered, still pacing, his footsteps heavy against the polished wood floors. “Never!” he said emphatically.
“We really don’t know that,” Matthew stated, meeting Mark’s intense glare. “We would hope not, but anything is possible. Besides, she looks just like us,” he noted, turning to face his brothers. “Maybe Dad did step outside of his marriage.”
“I know you’re not buying that load of horse crap,” Mark scoffed. “Are you, John?”
They all turned to John for a reaction, the man still staring out into space. Their big brother hadn’t said anything at all since Phaedra’s pronouncement. The sting of her words had stunned him into silence and all he had been able to do in that moment was leave the room before he said something he would later regret. He’d left and Matthew, Mark and Luke had followed closely on his heels.
Now he was thinking about their father and their mother, having idolized the two since forever. Their father had always called their mother “Sug,” short for “Sugar,” his sweet and honey, he used to say. John remembered wanting what his mom and dad had when he grew up and found a wife, their love so magnanimous that he and his brothers use to look on them with awe. He’d wanted to love his woman as hard as he remembered James having loved Irene, and he did, his heart so full for his wife, Marah, that he couldn’t ever imagine life without the phenomenal woman.
John also couldn’t fathom the thought of being unfaithful to Marah and he couldn’t begin to rationalize his father having committed such a crime against his mother. There had been little the couple hadn’t shared or done together. John had vivid memories of the two bowling together, camping together and just enjoying the beauty of each other’s company. They’d been the perfect complement to each other. His father had been stern and commanding, with only one weakness, his wife. Irene Stallion had been the epitome of virtue, a woman with a huge heart of pure gold. She’d been the most giving person John had ever known, devoting her time and energy to more causes than any of them could ever begin to count. But not once did she sacrifice her children or her family, the Stallion boys always front and center in her mind and her heart.
John smiled as he remembered the many kisses and hugs and secret touches of affection that had passed between his parents when neither thought anyone was paying attention. The two had shown so much love for each other that to now discover that maybe their relationship hadn’t been so perfect was truly challenging his spirit.
Hearing his name being called pulled him back to the moment.
“John, what do you think?” Matthew was questioning, echoing Mark’s query.
John turned to face them, his dejected expression causing each of them concern. He shrugged his shoulders, one teardrop escaping past his thick lashes. “I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore. Right now Aunt Juanita seems to know more than any one of us ever did.”

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