Brock: An Insta Love Short Romance (Bolton Billionaire Brothers Book 4) Read online

  BROCK

  BOLTON BROTHER BILLIONAIRES: BOOK 4

  FLORA MADISON

  Copyright © 2020 by Flora Madison

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  —————————————————————

  **Edited by: Geeky Girl Author Services

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  CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Epilogue

  What to Read Next?

  Also by Flora Madison

  1

  BROCK

  Going into town for groceries and beer is about as social as I like to get. I pay the cashier, a gum-popping teen who barely looks up from her phone, and gather my bags. The automatic door swooshes as I step out into the summer heat. I moved to the mountains to escape this kind of weather, but I have to take the good with the bad. Every other season besides summer is pure heaven on earth. Add that to the fact that I live alone with no one bothering me about fitting into societal norms, you really can’t beat this tiny little mountain town. No one’s ever recognized me as billionaire tycoon Harrison Bolton’s son. I’d like to keep it that way.

  My car’s parked a little further away than normal. The closer spots are full. Must be something going on in town I don’t know about. Not that I’d care either way. My dance card tonight is full, ice cold beer and a baseball game on television with my Golden Retriever, Hawkeye.

  “Dammit!” I say out loud as I approach my SUV. I forgot to pick up dog food. I throw the paper grocery bags into the trunk and head back toward the store’s front door with a frustrated sigh. I’d planned just enough time to get my stuff and be back by the first pitch, but what kind of jerk would I be if I came home with food for myself and nothing for my dog?

  I don’t make it three feet when a muffled scream pierces the night air, stopping me dead in my tracks. My head swivels in the direction of the alley behind the market. Unmistakably, the noise came from a woman’s mouth.

  I don’t have time to think about it. My inner GPS has already rerouted as I sidestep the front door and head straight toward the scream. I shove my keys in my pocket, my pace quickening. The streetlights overhead do little to light the path toward the dark alley, but what I see as I approach is unmistakable, a woman pressed against a wall at the hands of a man.

  Flames flare behind my eyes. My fists ball at my side. This woman is being attacked. I open my mouth to yell, announcing my presence and warning this coward of a man that I’m about to kick his sorry ass when the woman drives her knee straight into his crotch. Immediately, the man’s grip loosens as he leans over, writhing in pain. But it’s short lived. The man stands up straight, just as the woman finds the wherewithal to run.

  The lowlife doesn’t have the chance. He reaches for her hair, but he’s not fast enough. I creep up behind him and put him in a chokehold. He grunts beneath the pressure of my inner forearm against his throat.

  “Shhh!” I whisper, tightening my grip. He struggles, but soon his body goes limp. When I release the pressure, he falls into a pile at my feet.

  “Is he dead?” The woman’s soft voice pulls my attention from the scumbag lying on the ground. When I look up to answer her, my breath catches in my throat.

  As she steps closer to me, the streetlight illuminates her face like a spotlight. Her chestnut hair hangs at her shoulders, highlighting high cheekbones and a pair of wide set bright green eyes. The t-shirt and jean shorts she’s wearing hug her curves in just the right places. Her body, strong and soft at the same time. Her delicate fingers shake when she brings them to her full, ruby lips.

  “No,” I say, and lean down to check his pulse. “He’s just sleeping.”

  “Thank God.” She runs her hand through her hair, as she paces in a circle.

  “Do you know this guy?” I ask, praying he’s not her boyfriend, or worse, her husband. She nods her head, top teeth sinking into her bottom lip as she continues pacing. “What the hell was going on? Are you hurt?”The woman shakes her head no.

  I move to her, placing my hands on her shoulders so she’ll stop moving. “What’s your name?”

  Her green eyes sparkle as they flicker up to meet mine. “Shaina,” she says, “My name is Shaina Gold.”

  The air thickens between us. It’s like I’ve seen her before, but that’s not possible. Looking into her eyes is like looking into a piece of myself. I shake the strange thought away.

  “I’m Brock. I need you to tell me what the hell happened here before he wakes up.”

  “I can’t.” Her face scrunches up like she’s about to cry.

  “You don’t have a choice. I’m involved in this now. I need information.”

  “You don’t know who that is?” She asks me. “Oh God. He’s going to kill me.”

  I give her shoulder a gentle shake before the hysterics set in. “Shaina, take a breath.” I stare into her eyes and breathe with her. “He’s not going to kill you.”

  “How do you know?”

  I lean down so that we’re on the same level, noting the tiny birthmark under her right eye. I bare my teeth at the thought of this creep laying a hand on such a beautiful, innocent woman. “Because I won’t let him.”

  When I sense she’s calm, I remove my hands from the sides of her arms. To my surprise she flings her arms around my waist, pressing her soft curves up against me. “Thank you so much.” Her voice reverberates against my chest. For a moment I don’t know what to do with my hands, but instinct draws her closer to me. “If you wouldn’t have been here, I don’t know what would’ve happened.” Her tears soak the front of my shirt, and as much as I want to press her for answers, I just stand here and hold her.

  It’s been ages since I’ve had a hug in any form. A wave of emotion washes over me, and before I get swept out to sea I gently remove her from my embrace.

  “Can I drive you somewhere?” She gnashes at her lower lip. “Somewhere safe?”

  “He knows where I live. They all do.”

  They?

  “Do you have a friend you can stay with?”

  Shaina lowers her chin, and shakes her head. “Not really. Not anymore.”

  “Well then it’s settled, you’re staying with me.” She opens her mouth to object, but I don’t give her the chance. I take a step forward, taking in the intoxicating scent of her white amber musk. “I have plenty of room and plenty of food.” I stare hard into her eyes to let her know that I’m dead serious.

  “Do I have a choice?” She says, a half smile playing on her delicious lips.

  “I’ll throw you over my shoulder if I have to.”

  She stretches her palms out in front of her, and nods. “Fine.”

  It’s not until we’re both in my SUV and heading toward my house that I realize I forgot poor Hawkeye’s food. Hopefully he’ll forgive me. Sometimes the damndest things pop up when you go to the market.

  2

  SHAINA

  A tall, dark, and handsome stranger popping out of the shadows and saving my life was not on the agenda. Then again, neit
her was the thought of my life being threatened in the first place. I peer out of my periphery and take in the hulking beast of a man driving me to God only knows where.

  Brock’s square jaw remains clenched, eyes fixed on the road in front of him. Part of me wonders if this is a smart move. But they know where I live. Granted, I could’ve found an overpass, or hid out in the woods until I got my thoughts together, but that sounds awful. Hopefully, I can trust Brock.

  “Do you want to tell me who that was?” He breaks the silence, causing me to jerk in my seat.

  “It’s a long story.”

  “I’ve got nothing but time, Shaina.” He sneaks a glance in my direction, gray eyes piercing right through me. My body’s reaction to him is visceral, my nipples stiffen and I dampen between my legs. “Is he your boyfriend?”

  My head snaps in his direction. “Dear Lord, no.” I shutter at the thought. Terry’s acne scarred face and beady eyes are anything but desirable. Not to mention he’s Marco’s number one shakedown guy, and Marco wants my head on a platter. That, or the ten thousand dollars I owe him, which seems much less likely. “I owe him money.”

  Now it’s Brock’s head that snaps. “Drugs?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You’re on drugs right now?” He sounds like an angry father. A laugh escapes my mouth before I can stop it. The scowl on his face tells me he’s not playing. Hell, neither am I. I hate to admit it, but I’m broke. Brock may be my only hope for shelter at least until I figure something out.

  “I don’t even drink, Brock.” My fingers fumble with the frayed edge of my shorts. “They were for my mother.” An image of her frail frame laying in her bed invades me. I squeeze my eyes shut, shaking it away. “She had cancer, but not insurance.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “I know it was wrong, but I couldn’t see her suffer. The guys knew my brother from back in the day, and they cut me a deal. But my brother skipped town on them, so the loyalty was lost.” I slap my thighs. “Mom’s dead and I’m stuck with the bill.”

  “How much?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  This time it’s Brock who laughs. “Try me.”

  I lick my lips, taking in the ripples of his impossibly toned forearms as he clenches the steering wheel. “Ten thousand.” I wait for his response, for him to pull over to the side of the road and order me out of the passenger’s seat. My heart thumps so loud in my chest, I’m sure he can hear it.

  “Do you have a plan on how you’re going to get it?”

  I take in a long inhale to bide my time. I’m good at excuses and coming up with things on the spot, but to my dismay my mind draws a complete and utter blank. I let out the exhale without uttering a word and shake my head.

  Brock doesn’t respond, which makes me more nervous than if he’d have straight chewed me out and told me to hit the road. I want to ask him what he’s thinking. What’s going on in his mind under that thick mane of dark blonde hair? Tattoos stretch from the neck of his t-shirt, and I wonder if he hasn’t been in a situation like this himself, but I don’t ponder for long.

  The SUV twists up a path of mountain road, past a thicket of trees. My stomach drops, hoping I didn’t escape from the hands of one mad man only to flee into the SUV of another. As soon as we clear the trees, the thought dies in my head. Up the path stands the most gorgeous mountain estate I’ve ever seen in my life.

  “Where are you taking me?” I whisper, images of backwoods cults flicker through my mind.

  Brock’s nostrils flare as he turns into the carport alongside the building. “Where I told you I was. This is my house, Shaina.”

  For the second time this car ride, I burst out laughing. “You’re lying.”

  He puts the car in park and turns off the ignition. A stray strand of blonde hair has pulled itself loose, dangling over one eye. “I don’t lie.” He brushes his hand through his hair and opens the door, leaving me stunned by his sexiness.

  For a moment I sit with my hand on the door. My gut tells me that I can trust him, but what if I’m wrong? With a deep breath I fling open the door. It’s not like I have any other option.

  Carrying two bags from the market, it dawns on me why he was in the alley in the first place. I was so shook up that I didn’t even ask. In my defense, a lot was happening—including the undeniable pull my body felt toward Brock. With the build of a pro wrestler and the height of a pro basketball player, he could overpower me in half a second. The thought of it makes me dizzy.

  “Are you hungry?” He calls over his shoulder?

  At the mention of food, my stomach grumbles. I haven’t eaten anything since this morning. “I could eat,” I say.

  “Good, because I always buy too much food.” He puts the key in the lock, opens the door, and a gigantic golden retriever comes bounding in my direction.

  “Hawkeye, no!” Brock yells, but it’s too late. Two oversized paws press against my stomach, sending me a few steps backwards. Brock drops the bags, but the sweet dog’s already got his tongue all over my neck.

  “Oh my God.” I say, holding my chin to the sky. “Who is this guy?”

  “I said get down.” Brock grabs him by the collar and pulls him off of me.

  “It’s okay, I love dogs.” I follow Brock into the massive house. “I haven’t had one since I was little.” He flicks on the light and reveals the most elegant yet masculine woodsy home I’ve ever seen. Gigantic fireplace, gorgeous hardwood, comfy sectional sofas made of buttery leather. This place is a dream.

  “You live here?” I say, tiptoeing in as not to disturb the decor. “Alone?” He flips around, those gray eyes piercing into the depths of my very being. Be still my beating heart. Even if this gorgeous man turns out to be my captor, I feel I may develop a serious case of Stockholm syndrome.

  “No.” He says, and my heart drops. Of course it’s too good to be true. My captor and savior is totally taken. “You’ve already met my roommate, though.” He whistles at the dog who prances alongside him as he makes his way into the kitchen.

  I exhale a sigh of relief. But it doesn’t matter. Whoever this mystery mountain man is, there’s no way someone who could own a house like this could fall for a woman who right now can’t even afford a candy bar.

  3

  BROCK

  Last night was torture. I didn’t sleep at all. Shaina could barely keep her eyes open as I cooked her dinner and after she ate, headed straight to bed. All I could think about as I laid in my own bed, wide awake and unable to sleep, was the beautiful goddess laying a few doors down from me. I tossed and turned, angst vibrating through my body. I had to stroke myself just so that I could release some pent up tension, but dammit it didn’t work.

  I woke this morning thinking only of Shaina and the way she filled out those jean shorts she was wearing when I found her. I rub sleep from my eyes and try to push the image out of my head. The last thing I want to do is make her uncomfortable. She’s been through enough. If she senses my overwhelming urge to throw her on the ground, rip off those clothes and taste every inch of her sweet, soft skin, she might have second thoughts about letting me help her out when she needs it most.

  When I head downstairs, Shaina’s in the kitchen. A pot of hot coffee percolates nearby and the sizzling smell of eggs and bacon penetrate the air. My stomach grumbles.

  Facing the stove, Shaina doesn’t see me. She’s wearing the same jean shorts, but instead of the sexy v-neck t-shirt, she’s chosen a long button down shirt rolled at the sleeves to reveal her delicate wrists. My shirt. I stiffen in my pants at the sight. The sexiest woman I’ve ever laid eyes on is making me breakfast while wearing my shirt. Jesus Christ.

  Shaina hums while she works, not seeing me as I step further into the room. Every ounce of me wants to wrap my arms around her waist and pull her up against my rock hard length. It’s been so long since I’ve been with anyone. Shaina’s the perfect candidate to remedy that situation.

  She suddenly turns and jerks at the sight o
f me. “Oh! Shit, Brock. I didn’t see you there.” Her pink lacquered nails fly to her chest. The slightest hint of cleavage billows from the top button. “I hope you’re hungry.”

  My cock twitches. You have no idea.

  “Starving.” I say, and make myself a cup of coffee. “But you didn’t have to do that.”

  “It’s the least I can do.” She says tapping her chin. “Where are the plates?”

  I point to the proper cabinet and Shaina begins serving us up. Eggs, bacon and toast fill the plate. “This looks great.”

  “It’s about all I can make, if I’m honest.” Her full, high cheeks flush crimson. Of course she’s honest. So far, it seems like that’s exactly who she is. “Sorry I crashed so hard last night.”

  “You were coming down from shock. Trauma is exhausting.”

  Shaina digs into her toast, eyes floating up to mine. “You know from experience?”

  “We’re all traumatized in one way or another. Even if on the outside it looks like we have it all.” Shaina nods, opens her mouth as if to respond, then continues chewing instead. “Well, I’ll call as many people as I can today to try and find a place to stay. Someone they don’t know I’m associated with. I don’t want to be a burden.”

  My eyes flicker down to her smooth, thick legs. Once the image of them wrapped around my waist appears in flying technicolor, it’s hard to snuff it out. “No burden.”

  “Still,” she says, washing down her breakfast with coffee. “There’s nothing worse than someone wearing out their welcome.”

  It’s an innocent comment, but it hits me straight in the heart. That’s exactly how I’ve always felt in my family. While all of my brothers have their respective specialties, I’ve never quite settled on my own. Drake is the CEO. Chase is the vintner. Felix is the movie guy. Then, there’s me and I’m no one, just a billionaire’s son.