The Billionaire's Legacy. Reese Ryan

       Eighteen

       Extract

       About the Publisher

       Prologue

      “Benji? Oh, my God, is that you?”

      Benjamin Bennett shifted his attention to the source of the husky female voice he knew as well as his own.

      “Sloane.” He hadn’t seen Sloane Sutton in nearly a decade yet he recognized her instantly. The passing years had been good to her; she was even more beautiful than he remembered. “I wasn’t sure you were coming to the wedding.”

      Sloane wrapped him in a hug that seared his skin and sent electricity skittering down his spine. He released her reluctantly.

      “I just decided a couple of days ago.” Sloane smoothed down the skirt of her brilliant blue, floor-length gown. It hugged her heart-stopping curves, showing off the glowing brown skin of one toned shoulder. “I didn’t even tell Delia I was coming.”

      That explained why his sister hadn’t mentioned it.

      “Well, it’s good to see you, Sloane. You look...incredible,” he stammered, his face and neck warm. The passage of time hadn’t lessened Sloane’s effect on him. He was as tongue-tied in her presence now as he’d been at fifteen.

      His crush on her began the moment he’d first laid eyes on her. He was five years old and Sloane was ten.

      “Thanks.” Sloane beamed. “You look pretty darned handsome yourself.”

      “Blake must’ve been glad to see you.” Benji nodded toward the groom. He loosened the collar of his shirt, which suddenly seemed too tight.

      “It’s good to see Blake so happy.” Sloane’s gaze softened, but sadness suddenly crept into her voice and clouded her brown eyes. “Savannah seems really sweet, and their baby, Davis, is adorable.”

      “He’s a cute kid,” Benji acknowledged, shoving his hands in his pockets and shifting his weight to his other foot. “And Savannah is really sweet. You’ll like her.”

      Getting to the altar hadn’t been easy for his cousin and Savannah. When they’d first met, Savannah was on a mission to infiltrate the company founded by Blake’s grandfather to prove that half of King’s Finest Distillery belonged to her family. But somehow, they’d managed to move past the pain and distrust to find love and happiness.

      Sloane caught the eye of someone on the other side of the room and nodded. She turned back to him. “I’d better go, but we’ll catch up later.”

      “Count on it.” Benji watched as she walked away.

      Sloane Sutton.

      Growing up, he’d adored Sloane. She and his sister, Delia, had been thick as thieves. He’d spent countless nights as a boy kept awake by their girlish giggles, heard through the thin wall between his and Delia’s bedrooms. Sloane had been everything to him, but she’d seen him as an honorary little brother.

      She’d been a beautiful girl, but she’d grown into a stunning woman. When they were young, she’d had the toned body of a farm girl who was no stranger to physical labor; her lean, athletic body had given way to softer, fuller curves. The hair she’d worn in a thick, black braid down her back was now cut short on the sides with thick, glossy curls piled atop her head.

      A small, barely there diamond stud adorned her left nostril. And when she’d turned to walk away, he’d noticed shooting stars tattooed on the back of her neck. The tattoo disappeared beneath the fabric, which dipped low between her shoulder blades.

      “Better close your mouth and stop drooling or everyone will know you’ve still got a thing for Sloane Sutton,” Parker Abbott, his best friend and first cousin, said matter-of-factly.

      “I didn’t have a thing for Sloane Sutton.” Benji straightened his navy tuxedo jacket, hoping he wouldn’t be struck by lightning for the whopper of a lie he’d just told.

      Of course he’d had a thing for Sloane.

      He’d been a red-blooded teenage boy and she was...well, she was Sloane Sutton. Confident, beautiful, funny, slightly irreverent.

      She hadn’t thought him strange because he preferred Star Trek marathons and sci-fi books to spending time playing outside. Nor had she ridiculed him for his fascination with computer programming and astronomy or his love of data. Instead, she’d told him how smart he was, and that one day he’d change the world. She’d said it with such confidence, she’d made him believe it, too.

      How could he not have had a thing for her?

      “I know that reading people isn’t my thing,” Parker said, “but if that wasn’t the very definition of having a thing for someone, I’ll marry Kayleigh Jemison.” He nodded toward the woman he’d escorted down the aisle during the wedding ceremony.

      Parker and Kayleigh had been at each other’s throats for as long as Benji could remember. But since Kayleigh was close friends with Parker’s new sister-in-law, he’d been charged with escorting her down the aisle.

      “Speaking of having a thing for someone.” Benji chuckled.

      “Me? Have a thing for Kayleigh?” Parker’s cheeks colored, though he dismissed the idea with a wave of his hand. “You must’ve fallen and banged your head.”

      The wedding photographer beckoned them, indicating it was time to join the rest of the wedding party for some group shots.

      Benji was thankful for the distraction. Still, he couldn’t help scanning the crowd, hoping to catch another glimpse of Sloane.

      * * *

      Sloane nibbled the gloss off her lower lip as she studied Benji from across the room. He took another sip of his beer, then laughed at something Parker said.

      She could hardly believe that the incredibly sexy man whose muscular frame filled out his fitted tuxedo in ways that did wicked things to her was the shy, sweet little boy she’d once known.

      When his gaze captured hers again, an inexplicable warmth settled low in her belly and her breath caught.

      “Are you all right?” Her best friend, Delia, tilted her head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were staring at someone at the bar.”

      Delia turned to look over her shoulder, but was distracted as her father approached with her daughter in his arms. The two-year-old girl was as beautiful as Delia and generally just as sweet. At this moment, though, she was crying hysterically, demanding her mother.

      “Evie, what’s wrong, sweetie?” Delia stood, taking her daughter into her arms.

      “Your mother says she feels warm.” Richard Bennett said. “We were going to offer to take her home with us, but she’s insistent that she wants her mama.”

      “It’s okay. Thanks, Dad.” Delia kissed the girl’s face and she seemed to immediately calm down. She leaned over and kissed Sloane’s cheek. “Sorry about this, hon. We’ll take up this conversation later. How long will you be in town?”

      “I’ll probably head back to Nashville tomorrow, but don’t worry about me. We’ll talk later. Just take care of Evie.”

      Sloane watched as Delia and Mr. Bennett made their way through the crowd. She sighed, eyeing her half-finished glass of bourbon punch.

      With Delia gone, she felt alone—even in a room filled with people she’d known her entire life. Her family and the Abbotts didn’t run in the same circles. She just happened to have hit it off