But then Tom went and added, “Do you have a girlfriend these days?”

What the hell?

Acid ate through his stomach. Tom had snarled at him when he’d merely looked at her at the damn Christmas party, and here, he was foisting her off on his annoying kid brother?

No fucking way.

Tyler flushed, looking utterly uncomfortable. “Uh…no, sir.”

Tom chuckled and ruffled his hair. “Ah, get that look off your face. She’s beautiful. Trust me.” Then he went and crossed the line. He hitched his chin Braxton’s way. “Just ask your brother. He met her at the Christmas party last month.”

When everyone turned to him, Braxton pulled in a sharp breath. Tyler lifted an eyebrow in query, and Braxton had to pause to keep from committing murder. But in that second, he hated—absolutely hated—Thomas Davenport.

Just what made Tyler, the asswipe, acceptable for her while Braxton was so very unacceptable? Jealousy seized him, which pissed him off even more. He didn’t want Tom’s fatherly affection. He hated Tom. But damn it, he still wanted the man’s freaking fatherly affection.

When Tom scowled, reminding him he hadn’t responded, he clenched his teeth and cleared his throat. “She’s…breathtaking,” he quietly told his brother with all seriousness.

“There you have it.” Tom grinned and slugged Ty on the back. “I’ll have you two married off within five years.”

Braxton couldn’t keep his bitterness to himself if he sewed his lips together. “I think Tyler may be too young for her.”

Tom flashed him a killer glare. “And I think I can figure out for myself what a person is too young for.” Turning back to Ty, his lifted his chin. “How old are you now?”

“Nineteen,” Ty was quick to answer. He looked relieved, as if his age might get him out of this seemingly arranged marriage.

“Meh, that’s nothing. I’m five years older than my wife, so three is a blink of an eye.”

But two years is even better, Braxton wanted to snarl back. I’m more compatible for her than Tyler.

He had to bite the inside of his lip to keep silent.

His jaw was still clamped shut five minutes later as he marched down the sidewalk away from Farris Industries with a panting Tyler nearly jogging at his side to keep up.

“Jesus, you sure moved from Number One Son to Pile of Horse Shit in those guys’ eyes. They really hate you, Brax, especially Tom Davenport. What’d you do to piss off Dad’s favorite employees?”

Braxton shook his head savagely and snorted. “I breathed.”

“Seriously,” Tyler muttered. “What’d you do?”

“Seriously,” Brax hissed back. “Nothing. Ever since I took over, they’ve despised me on principle alone.” And maybe a little because I didn’t take their dislike so well, he didn’t add.

Tyler frowned and scratched his head. “That’s doesn’t make any sense.”

“Yeah, well…how would you like taking orders from a five-year-old?”

“Huh?”

“That’s how they still see me. That five-year-old brat who used to run amuck through Dad’s office. They can’t respect me and refuse to even try.”

Tyler was quiet a second before he murmured, “Does Dad know how they’re treating you?”

“No, and you will say nothing about this to him. He already has enough to deal with. Besides, I need to find a way on my own to gain their loyalty.”

And nearly

screwing Lenna Davenport blind was not the way. Unfortunately.

As if he knew Brax was thinking about her, Ty asked, “So what’s the deal with Davenport’s daughter?”