Who would have thought Club Tahoe could have survived under Bran and his brothers’ ownership for an entire year? Certainly not Bran, but here he was, making his way toward the anniversary party in a room at the back of the resort.

He strode through the hallway and shook his head, looking down—and nearly ran into Ireland, Cali’s cousin.

“Oh, Bran… I’m so sorry. I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

Unless she’d been looking down as well, no one was that blind.

Against his will, Bran’s gaze dipped. Ireland’s flame-red hair fell in waves across her forehead and neck, and grazed the edges of her breasts. Breasts that must have filled a push-up bra to maximum capacity, and currently threatened to fall out of her dress.

His brothers liked to call him a monk, but Bran was a guy—he looked. He also knew fake boobs when he saw them.

Ireland was the type of woman Bran had avoided for nearly ten years. Fast, seductive—and shallow. He could spot her kind a mile away.

“No problem.” He moved to walk past her, and her hand fell lightly on his arm. Which was exactly his point—she’d been sending him looks ever since they’d met a few months ago, and now she was making her move. He jerked away.

“Have I done something to offend you?”

Typical seduction tactic. She’d sounded hurt.

Sure he’d hurt her—her pride, that was.

“No.” He strode away and entered the party, sighing in relief. Another catastrophe averted.

Bran’s brothers thought he didn’t date. They were wrong. He liked women as much as his hound-dog brothers; he simply chose different women. He didn’t date the ladies who came on to him at bars. And he didn’t date flashy, beautiful women. The end.

Beautiful women were trouble, and deep down, he was still weak where they were concerned. Which was why he did everything he could to avoid them and live by the rules he’d set.

Inside, the party was in full effect, and Jaeg and his fiancée stood near the entrance.

Jaeg shook Bran’s hand. “Congratulations on the achievement. I figured you guys would have thrown in the towel six months ago and hired new management to take over.”

“You and everyone else,” Bran said. “But we’re rolling with it. For now. We’ll see how the next year goes.” He leaned over and gave Jaeg’s fiancée a hug in greeting.

Cali congratulated him, then looked past his shoulder. “Have you seen my cousin?”

Bran’s eye twitched. “We ran into each other in the hallway.”

Jaeg chuckled. “Her vision isn’t the—”

Cali elbowed Jaeg in the ribs, and he flinched. Goddamn funny to see these two together. Jaeg was the tallest of his friends, at six foot six, and his girlfriend was short. Or average height, but she looked short next to Jaeg. And yet Jaeg was a pile of dough in her hands.

Jaeg sent Cali a look, and she returned it with one of her own. “Ireland is a little clumsy, that’s all,” she said. “She’s staying with us in the spare bedroom for a while, and I want to make sure she’s having a nice time. She seemed off when she left for the restroom.”

Bran looked out at the friends who’d come to celebrate. “Ireland appears capable.” That woman knew what she was doing, running into him like that in the hallway. And shooting him interested looks the few times they’d all hung out.

Yeah, she was one to avoid.

“Oh good,” Cali said brightly. “I’m schooling her.”

“Schooling her?”

Jaeg groaned. “Cali thinks Ireland needs more excitement in her life.”

“Well, she does,” Cali said.

“Babe, do you remember how this worked out the last time you helped a friend meet men?”

“This is totally different. Ireland is somewhat shy, and she’s been working multiple jobs finishing her degrees; she’s not had the opportunity to meet many people. Not fun people, anyway. That’s what we’re working on.”

Bran caught the eye of the waitress he’d been casually talking to for months. She quickly glanced away. Now that woman was shy. And just his type. He didn’t need or want aggressive women. “Will you excuse me? I see someone I want to say hello to.”

“We’ll catch you later,” Jaeg said, as Cali continued to talk about Ireland.

Bran tuned it out and made his way to the kind waitress. He’d not wanted to hear anymore about Ireland the “clumsy” redhead. The waitress he’d been talking to was sweet. And simple. Of course, Bran hadn’t made a move there yet. Hadn’t mustered up the energy to ask her out. Which was how he knew she was safe. His brain didn’t cloud over when he saw her, and his libido was never in control.

His desires would never rule over him again. Bran made damn sure of that.

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