Ours to Love

Javier hoped that the second his brother walked through the door, he’d feel a violent need to puke on Xander’s designer shoes.



A few minutes and a change of clothes later, he and Tyler stretched, then hit the street at a slow jog. House after house rolled by, each little cottage looking much like the last, except the color of the trim. Some boasted long porches that shaded his-and-hers rocking chairs. Despite the early hour, the heat and humidity were already oppressive.



“I’d forgotten how much I hate coming to the South,” he grumbled, already starting to sweat.



Tyler looked perfectly happy and flashed Javier a grin. “I’m from L.A., too. Here takes getting used to . . . but it grows on you.”



He refused to stay here long enough for that.



“If you don’t like Xander, why are you helping him?” Javier asked Tyler as they rounded a corner, off a quiet residential street and onto a busier main road. Cars buzzed past in the morning rush. A few bleary-eyed professionals walked by with their steaming caffeination. A few other people jogged in the opposite direction, happily sweating. Javier scowled and turned to Tyler, who still wore that goddamn smile.



“He did me a great favor I can never repay.”



Money was easy for Xander since he didn’t personally have to earn it. Javier snorted cynically. “I’m sure he didn’t expect you to repay him. My brother likes to give money away. I think it makes him feel better about his poor-little-rich-boy life.”



Now huffing and puffing as Tyler picked up the speed, Javier’s own words rolled around in his head. Shit, he sounded bitter and cynical. Maybe because he was. He hated the fact that Francesca had come between them—and still did—but he couldn’t seem to get past the fact that she would be alive today if Xander had just said yes when Javier had needed him.



“It wasn’t money.” Tyler’s grin finally fell. “He saved my wife’s life and helped me put a completely evil fucker behind bars. He could have sat on his charming ass and used his time to pick up women. I know he does that.”



“Since he was thirteen.” Javier smiled tightly.



Tyler frowned. “I get the feeling you don’t like your brother much.”



Since the big guy was already in Xander’s court, Javier didn’t feel the need to explain. “Do you love your siblings all the time?”



“Don’t have any, but I know if I had a brother I trusted to have my back, I’d be pretty damn happy about it.”



“I’d like one of those too, but I don’t have one.” When Tyler opened his mouth, Javier shook his head, wishing like hell he could return to Kata’s house and crawl back in bed. This three-mile jog made his lungs feel as if they were about to burst. “I’m glad he helped you and your wife. Xander can be a great guy.” When it suits him.



“He’s on your side, dude. He’s worried about you.”



Javier kept his more skeptical thoughts to himself. “Touching, isn’t it?”



Tyler scowled but kept thankfully silent for the rest of the torturous run. Javier focused on the pounding of the pavement beneath his feet, the heavy pull of oxygen into his lungs, the mad beating of his heart. He was not enjoying this . . . but for the first time in a long time, his thoughts felt sharp and focused, his head clear. Fresh air filled him. By the time they arrived back at Kata’s house, he didn’t have the energy to feel angry, but he did feel oddly calm.



Until he and Tyler stepped into the kitchen, and Xander sat there with a gorgeous redhead, both nursing cups of coffee and sharing a joke. The unruffled bastard looked like he didn’t have a care in the world. How nice to shed all sense of responsibility like a cheap coat.



“You son of a bitch!” He charged across the kitchen.



Tyler jerked him back by grabbing a handful of his sweaty tank and holding tight.



His brother nodded at him, then turned to the redhead. “Morning, Javier. This is Tara Edgington.”



Logan’s wife? Seemed like a safe bet.



“Hi,” he barked, then winced at his own rudeness. His anger was for Xander, not this lovely woman deluded enough to help him. Stiffly, he held out his hand to Tara.



She smiled kindly and shook his outstretched hand. “Hope you’re feeling okay this morning and that Tyler didn’t break you.” She sent the big blond guy a mock glare.



“I’ll save that for weight lifting tomorrow.” He winked.



“No more torture with Tyler.” Javier shook his head. “This morning was enough. I appreciate your hospitality, but I need to be getting back to Dallas now. If I could impose upon you for a shower, then I’ll get out of your way.”



Tara didn’t answer, just sent Xander a look that told him the ball was in his brother’s court. Kata eased back into the room, wearing a pair of black capri pants and a floral halter top that hugged her generous tits. She propped one hip against the cabinet and sent him an apologetic smile.



“It’s been fun.” Tyler slapped him on the back. “See you tomorrow at six a.m. We’ll beat some of this heat and get in a bit of lifting, too.”



“Don’t bother. I won’t—” Javier didn’t get to finish his sentence before Tyler shut the door, cutting him off.



Fuck, little brother had brought him deep into his territory, and everyone here would take his side every single time. As soon as he had a shower, he’d find this town’s little airport or rent a damn car to drive himself back to Dallas.



“Sit down,” Xander demanded.



Javier raised an angry brow at his brother’s high-handed tactics. He could feel a fresh rage brimming and tried like hell to hold it in check. “I told you to fuck off, so you decided to drug me and bring me here? You can’t force me to stay, so I’m not sitting down. If you didn’t want me for an enemy . . .” He shrugged. “You should have thought of that when I actually needed your help. Now I don’t and I’m leaving.”



He turned toward Kata, intending to slip through the door and head to the bathroom for a much-needed shower.



“I can’t keep you here.” Xander said to his back. “But I think once you’re done listening to me that you’ll want to stay.”



“What part of ‘fuck off’ doesn’t translate for you?” he scowled back at Xander.



If the words bothered him, his brother didn’t show it. “I understand. I just don’t care. So here’s the deal: You’ve got a few choices to make. You either stay here for six weeks, follow my instructions, and get your shit together, or I go to the press with all your problems. The drinking, the ‘episodes,’ and the fact that, right now, you’re incompetent to run the business.”



Shock slammed Javier, and anger followed fast on its heels. “Are you out of your fucking mind? If you tell them everything . . . The business is already in a downward spiral. You said yourself the board of directors is nervous. If you air my laundry publicly, you’ll kill what’s left. You’ll not only destroy me, but— Oh, is this some power play? You think you want to take the reins, little brother?”



Xander wouldn’t last a week in the pressure cooker of the CEO’s seat. The fifteen-hour days and lost weekends would really interfere with his party schedule. He’d never shown interest in responsibility of any kind. Why would he start now?



“I will if I have to,” Xander vowed. “You step one foot out of Lafayette, you deviate one minute from the schedule I’m laying out for you for the next six weeks, and I will go to the press, the business be damned. I have enough money saved to last three lifetimes. But I only have one brother, and I’m not going to watch you kill yourself over that bitch.”



The words stunned Javier. Xander would burn down everything just to try to save him? He wasn’t sure if he should charge across the kitchen and strangle Xander where he sat . . . or give him a really big bear hug. His brother watched him with resolute hazel eyes that held a faint hint of regret. This was Xander’s way of showing him that he cared. But Javier knew damn well that his brother had him by the balls. Xander bluffed often, but never with him. Of course, Javier could run to the press with stories of Xander’s exploits, but they already knew. Damn!



“It’s my life to end. I know you’re trying to help me, and you can do that by getting the hell out of it,” he snapped.



“Not gonna happen.” Xander shook his head.



His temper surged. “What the hell? You can’t force me to stay here.”



“I think I am. Because what you’re doing now, burying all your stress and grief and letting it eat you up inside, is destroying you.”



Javier hated to admit that his brother was right. And if he risked getting the press involved in his personal struggles, S.I. Industries would crash fast. He owed more to the board of directors, the hardworking employees, and his parents, God rest them.



“Fine. I’ll stay,” he growled. “So . . . you think you’re my life coach now? Or are you trying to be my Dom?”



Tara and Kata both snickered at that. Xander cut the redhead a stare of displeasure that didn’t faze her in the least. With a sigh, he faced Javier.



“I’ll be whatever you need, do whatever you need, until you’re able to pick up and move on. But I draw the line at spanking you.”



At his brother’s teasing, more anger spread through him, but it was tempered by a grudging acceptance. Xander meant well, even if his methods thoroughly annoyed Javier. “Fuck off.”



“You’ve said that before. Didn’t work. I’m also giving you six weeks to start turning the business around. You’ve shown up every day, even the day of Francesca’s funeral. I give you a lot of credit for that. But you’re not focused. It’s time to start making good decisions again. Want help? I’ll work hand-in-hand with you to rebuild the business.”



Though Xander was extending the olive branch, Javier couldn’t make himself take it. He had to stand on his own two feet. If he fell, he couldn’t take Xander with him. Besides, his pride rankled. He was already being forced to stay in this little town against his will. Javier liked things he could control, and the business was one of them. His father had entrusted him with his legacy. He’d gotten S.I. Industries into trouble. He would dig it out. After all, what did Xander know about running a high-tech conglomerate?



“I’ll take care of S.I. Industries. I always have.”



His little brother shrugged, then tossed a set of keys across the table. “These open your new offices. I’ll take you over there in a bit. It’s not much, but the best I could do on short notice. It’s not furnished, but most of what you need will be delivered tomorrow. I called back to the offices in L.A. to have your assistant transfer your work here. She quit. Friday was her last day.”



And he’d drunk his way through it. Fuck.



Javier sighed heavily, shoulders sagging. Janice had been his fourth executive assistant in the last ten months. “I’ll call Henner and get him to send whatever we need.”



“After all, what are VPs and right hands for?” Xander quipped.



No way he could miss the jibe there. Javier shook his head. For years, Xander had wanted nothing to do with the business except to cash the checks that came his way so he could buy new cars and pretty trinkets for his whores. Xander’s sudden interest in the business wouldn’t last.



“Exactly,” he bit back.



Xander had dragged him to this pissant town, forced him to change his whole life for six weeks, then shoved him into this power struggle. And wanted him to . . . what? Be happy? Trust him as a business advisor? Not get angry?



He turned to Kata. “It looks like I’ll be pressing on your hospitality a bit longer. Would you mind very much if I had a shower before I go to my new offices?”



Kata shook her head and led him to the bathroom, fetching him a clean towel. “He really does want what’s best for you.”



Javier smiled, but it was hollow and false. If his brother had wanted what was best for him, he would have said yes a year ago to helping him with Francesca. If this latest scheme of Xander’s was his way of helping, Javier wanted nothing to do with it—or him.



Chapter Three



A week later



XANDER groaned as the light shafted through the window of his bedroom in the rented house. He grimaced and tried to open his eyes, peering through the slits at the dark, heavy beams crisscrossing the white ceiling. He’d been too busy last night to close the shutters or pull the thick drapes. And the reason for his haste curled up against his side, her long hair draped over his chest in mahogany tangles, her ass pressing into his hip.



Megan, he vaguely recalled, but who knew for sure? This wasn’t the only time this week he’d picked women up and spent all night trying to lose himself inside them. Their names and faces were running together.



Something tugged on his rigid cock, and he frowned at the woman beside him. Both of Megan’s hands were tucked under her face, so Xander lifted the sheet to see what the hell had him by the balls���literally. A pretty face with smeared mascara and swollen lips peeked up, her red hair mussed, her green eyes dancing with mischief as she lowered her tongue to the head of his stiff shaft. Shelby? Yeah, that sounded right.

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