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Chapter Two
“These boots cost me five thousand dollars!”
Nash turned to see his older brother storming into the lavish living room in his Nashville mansion, waving one of his black leather alligator boots in the air. The whole side of the boot had been chewed into pieces.
Typical West, blaming him for something that his inherited “trophy dog” had done. Things had been rocky between them since his older brother had convinced him to leave Harvest Ranch to come to Nashville with him two months ago. There was money to be made in the public relations business if he just found the right clients and networked at the right parties.
What money?
What opportunity?
What future was he forging for himself?
Nash had become his brother’s overpaid dog sitter. As far as he could see, West was the only one benefitting from their deal. Nash saw plenty of money being thrown around, but nothing for himself. He squinted at the ruined alligator boots. “You paid five thousand for those? You got robbed. What do you want me to do about it?”
“You let Lizardman into my room while I was taking a shower.”
Nash chuckled. Of course he let the puppy get away from him. He had to fight back.
“You trying to get your revenge on me for switching out your boots?” West asked. He chucked the ruined boot on his pristine white couch. Their ongoing war had started months ago when Nash had the nerve to insult West’s boots. As payback, his brother had planted the wrong sized boots for Nash to take out onto the ranch. Nash had to nurse the blister he’d gotten from that for weeks.
“Hey,” Nash said, raising a brow at his brother, “just making sure that you bond with yourowndog.”
“I have staff for that.” West struggled with his cufflinks next. He was getting ready for yet another grueling party that night. They were running late.
Nash never thought he’d think it, but he was tired of going out constantly. He hated to admit it, but maybe his family was right. Working for his brother was trouble… and lucrative—that was the problem. Nash wouldn’t have come here if it wasn’t for the money. He wanted to make something of himself. It was no secret that his brother was raking in the cash in Nashville with his mansion, his private jet, and a garage full of fast cars.
West was good at what he did, and Nash wanted a piece of that life, but how far was he willing to go to do it?
Lizardman bounded out behind West’s legs. The puppy had become his brother’s loyal shadow ever since West, on his way to a family barbecue in Harvest Ranch, had adopted the dog from a neighboring farmhouse on a whim. The chocolate and cream-tipped puppy was a mini labradoodle mixed with an Australian Shepherd. His brother had intended to drop the adorable fur ball into his children’s grateful arms in his lame attempt to make up for being almost completely AWOL for the entirety of their lives.
The attempted bribery didn’t end well.
West’s ex-wife, Liv Mackenzie, put a stop to that. No way was she going to take care of the cute little rascal, probably more so because the puppy came from West. The threads of their rocky relationship had never healed after their divorce.
Lizardman leaped onto the couch after the boot. The puppy growled and whipped the expensive waste of money around like he’d caught a snake. West winced at the sight. With those big button eyes, the puppy didn’t look like he’d do anything wrong. Nash smirked—that was half the women they knew. The Slade men should all know better than to fall for the puppy’s tricks.
Nash had his own pair of eyes to forget about—they were hazel, fringed with thick, dark lashes and danced with happiness, though when they turned on him, they usually flashed with a fiery spark. She’d never take him seriously. Rumor had it that she was here in Nashville, trying to work on her big break in the music industry. It was doubtful their paths would ever cross. They ran in very… different circles.
She was an angel. He was a devil. Plain as that.
He tried to shrug the memories of that enticing face away as he wrestled the boot from the puppy. He didn’t stand a chance with River Mackenzie’s little sister. Her brother had married his ex-sister-in-law, and the blood was pretty bad between Liv and West.
Ironically, West used to manage her new husband’s musical career at one time. The famous country star had made West very rich, before the big fallout when Nash’s brother had taken his client to Harvest Ranch for his comeback tour—that’s where River met West’s lovely ex. The two star-crossed lovers hit it off almost immediately.
West didn’t take it well, no, not at all. He’d almost started World War III with his nasty temper, turning everyone against him, including his own brothers. After the dust settled, West had such a black mark on his name that he’d been “unofficially” barred from the music industry, which was why he’d turned to managing these lowlifes.
Yeah, that was their strange reality. Nash couldn’t have come up with a better plot if he was producing a sleazy online reality show. And to make it stranger, Nash had it bad for River’s sister. The trouble was that he was dreaming if he thought Emily would ever take a chance on him, especially after she witnessed how much Nash played the field… but that was before he’d realized how he felt about her.
Nash had messed up bad.
He flinched and then again when the puppy caught his hand in his teeth. “C’mon, Lizardman!” As soon as Nash had freed the boot from the puppy’s jaws, the wild teddy bear went after his arms and hands next, biting and growling like the tiny scrapper had something to prove.
Maybe Lizardman had a point—he was the size of a baby raccoon, after all.
Nash pinned down the feisty, writhing puppy. The dog thought they were playing. Nash let out a laugh, trying to find a nearby toy to stuff up the snapping jaws. “Lizardman nothing! You should’ve named him Godzilla. Look at those teeth!”
“Tell that to Charlie,” West said, moving to a long mirror above the fireplace to smooth out his dress jacket. West had given his seven-year-old son the honor of naming him, and all the Slade brothers had laughed heartily after hearing that the normally smooth West would have to shout out “Lizardman” in public every time his puppy misbehaved.
