If You Could Only Believe (Buchanan Brothers Series Book 4) Read online

  Then, there was my twin, Gabriel. He was the oldest by three fucking minutes, but the way he acted, sometimes you’d think he was older by years. Gabriel was my identical twin. Absolutely identical. Where we all had the signature Buchanan black hair, Mason’s eyes were grey, while Aiden’s, Gabriel’s and my eyes were green. We got Mom’s colored orbs, while Mason got Dad’s, something I don’t think he ever cared for.

  Gabriel was head of Marketing and Clientele. He had an uncanny knack for being able to read people as if they were open books. He could tell from a simple handshake if someone was full of shit or not. His gut instincts were always spot on when it came to who we should let into our lives.

  Gabe was also loyal as fuck. Now, most people would think that was a good thing, but growing up, our father manipulated Gabriel’s perception of family loyalty, but once Gabe was on your side, there was nothing he wouldn’t do for you; even catch a prison case.

  His wife, Justice, was further proof of that. He met her sophomore year in high school, started dating her junior year and he married her a couple of weeks ago. He’s never been with anyone else, and it would never occur to him to even think that way. Even when we were in college and she stayed back home, he never touched another girl.

  Shane had Mason’s psychopathic devotion, Denise had Aiden’s complete adoration and Justice had Gabriel’s unwavering faithfulness. I truly hoped my sisters-in-law knew what they had in my brothers.

  As for me, I was head of Human Resources because, supposedly, my calm demeanor was ideal for human relations. Growing up in our household, I had always managed to maintain a level head when shit was going south.

  I had no choice. If I hadn’t found a way to compartmentalize, I would have gone crazy years ago.

  For whatever reason-because I never asked-my father took special pride in working me over the worst. I wasn’t sure if it was because I was technically the youngest, or if he saw my calm demeanor as a challenge of sorts.

  Whatever the reason, my scars are the only way a person can tell Gabriel and me apart. And I had lots of them. Only a couple of them were large enough to grab notice if I was shirtless, but most of them were little nicks and scratches here and there.

  My brothers all did their best to protect me, but to be honest, they were just trying to survive themselves. My father didn’t spare any of us. And since we hadn’t lived in each other’s pockets, my father often got a hold of me when they weren’t around.

  What my father failed to realize was that everyone is different. You can take five people and show them the exact same film or have them read the exact same book, and they will each get something different out of the experience.

  Mason came out with psychopathic tendencies. Aiden managed to come out a decent guy, if not a little aggressive. Gabriel came out with an unreasonable intensity, sometimes. And me...well, I made it out with severe anger issues.

  My disposition was cool, calm and collected…until it wasn’t. And when it wasn’t, shit got violent. And by that, I mean I got violent.

  I didn’t lose my temper often-thank God-but when I did, it wasn’t pretty and the person on the receiving end of it made sure to never be on the receiving end of it ever again.

  There were a couple of times, during my childhood, that my father had to write out checks to keep me out of juvenile detention.

  And, then, there was that one time when my father went after Shane and it took all my brothers to keep me from killing him. That’s when dear old Dad finally realized we weren’t little boys anymore and his quest to raise strong men resulted in raising unstable men, instead. Well, except for Aiden. Kinda.

  I was also a virgin. Probably one of the few handful of 22-year-old male virgins walking the planet.

  I wasn’t scared of women. I wasn’t gay and afraid to come out. I didn’t have self-conscious body issues. And my dick worked perfectly fine.

  The problem was that our father spent a lot of our younger years warning us against the evils of women and all they’re capable of when they wanted to trap a man. The Buchanans had been, and still are, a legacy in our town and every girl in school knew what we were being groomed for. Many tried to get their hooks into us, but they all failed.

  But I had been curious. So, I read a lot and watched a lot of porn. The porn had been standard and all it taught me was what went where, and that if you’re going to stick your cock in a girl’s ass, for the love of God, prepare her for it unless she was a porn star.

  The reading had been what opened my eyes to the more important elements about sex.

  The feelings.

  The desires, the yearnings, the sensations and all the other experiences that went beyond just sticking your penis in a girl’s vagina.

  The emotional part of sex is what had held me back. It’s what still holds me back. I know what it feels like to be consumed by so much emotion that you black out or lose all sense of yourself; to feel something so intense, that you can’t hold any of it in.

  I was…worried-concerned that any woman I might take to bed wouldn’t be able to handle my intense emotional reactions, and I’d frighten them away. And I didn’t want that to happen.

  I liked women. I was attracted to women. But I was also very aware of what very different creatures they were from us men. I needed a woman who was strong enough to never be afraid to tell me what she was thinking or feeling. I needed a woman that would tell me if it was too much no matter how deep inside her body I was.

  I needed someone who wasn’t afraid to stop me.

  Looking around my new office, I wondered if I would ever meet such a creature.

  Chapter 3

  Sophia~

  You know that time relevance thing? When it’s Monday and you don’t have enough time to catch up on everything from the weekend, so the clock is just tick away out of control. And then, when it’s Friday, and you just want week work to end, but the clock is not moving at all.

  Well, it’s Friday, the day of the party, and guess what the clock is doing today? It’s moving faster than all get out, and I feel like I might have a full-blown panic attack before the day is over.

  I couldn’t go anywhere without somebody talking about that stupid party. If I went to the restroom, there were ladies in there talking about how they couldn’t wait for tonight. If I went to the break room, there were people in there talking about how excited their spouses were to attend. If I went to the copier, there were people in there talking about mingling single at the party.

  Everywhere.

  I.

  Went.

  People.

  Were.

  Talking.

  About.

  That.

  Damn.

  Party!

  In the meantime, I was one more party mention away from hanging my head between my knees and demanding someone get me a brown paper bag.

  All-fast as hell-week, I’ve been trying to figure a way out of this. I mean, how would anyone even know if I didn’t show? Was there going to be a sign-up sheet? How would they find out if one of us didn’t show?

  Or what would they do if someone had a family emergency and couldn’t make it? There had to be a way out of this. And, besides, would they really fire me for not attending a party? My work history should outweigh not attending a friggin’ party.

  And, not to mention, I’ve already met Aiden Buchanan like two years ago. When he started heading up the finance division, he had made the rounds and introduced himself and all that jazz. I seriously doubt that two years later the man even remembers meeting me.

  I could feel my palms starting to sweat and I knew I needed to get a hold of myself. Maybe I could go to the party, walk in and then walk right back out. I mean, the invitation said nothing about having to stay a designated amount of time.

  I snapped my attention back toward the computer screen I’d been staring at for the past few…well, all day, mostly, and I decided to make another trip to the restroom to wash my hands and splash a little cold water on my face. I needed to snap the hell out of this.

  I pressed the Windows icon key and the L key, locking up my computer as I got up to head to the restroom.

  Once I made it inside, I was beyond relieved to see no one else was inside. I walked over to the first open sink, turned on the faucet and washed my sweaty palms. After the soap was fully rinsed off, I leaned over and splashed some cold water on my face, making chills dance down my spine.

  I had a handful of towels, patting my face, when I heard the door open, alerting me to someone’s presence. When I lowered the towels, I saw that it was my supervisor, Katrina Roth, entering.

  And this day just keeps getting better.

  Her steps faltered a bit when she noticed me, but she immediately straightened her spine and walked over towards me. “Sophia,” she greeted with her voice full of false pleasantries. “I’m glad I ran into you.”

  “You are?” I asked because it was no secret that Katrina didn’t like me. But, then, no one did. The only difference was that everyone else just stayed out of my way. Katrina made it a point to be obvious in her dislike for me.

  She turned her body towards the mirror and started primping her short, blonde bob in that way that she doesn’t need to primp it because it’s already perfect. “I’m afraid I have some bad news,” she said, her voice oozing smugness.

  “You do?” The shorter my conversations with this woman, the better.

  She turned back towards me. “I’m afraid I made a small error this week and forgot to hand over the Rose-McCurry accounts for reconciliation Wednesday,” she said, shaking her head as if she couldn’t believe she could make sure an error. “I was going to put them on your desk after lunch, but I’m afraid that means you’ll have to work late into the night, missing the party.”


  Wait. What?

  Katrina sucked her bottom lip in between her teeth and then let it out with a pop. Her face was full of fake sympathy and regret. “It looks like you will also have to work the weekend since it’s due on Monday for Mr. Buchanan’s approval.” She placed her hand on my arm. “Oopsies,” she said as she shrugged a shoulder.

  None of what she was saying was really fazing me. I was used to her nastiness. Katrina was a bully, through and through. This wasn’t the first time I’ve worked a weekend, or she’s dropped off last-minute assignments on my desk. I imagine it wouldn’t be the last, either.

  Katrina was very aware of my IQ and capabilities. She took advantage of them often. Most days I didn’t mind because I liked the challenges and I liked working for BI. But today, I was beyond not minding. This time, her evil ways were working in my favor.

  I didn’t have to go to that goddamn party.

  It took all of my self-control not to throw my arms around her and thank her for this reprieve. She thought she was ruining my weekend, but she had just unknowingly delivered me a gem.

  I did my best not to smile and said, “That’s fine, Katrina. I’ll start working on the file as soon as it lands on my desk.”

  And because she wasn’t getting the reaction she hoped for, she added, “I mean, I could always assign it to someone else, but I figured,” she shrugged a dainty shoulder, “Sophia’s single with no friends or husband, you know? I was certain you’d be willing to give up your weekend rather than make someone who had a family have to give up theirs, right?”

  I threw the paper towels that were still in my hand away and smiled at her. “Of course,” I agreed. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I really should clean up some of the stuff on my desk if I’m going to dedicate the next few days to the Rose-McCurry file.”

  She shooed me away with the wave of her hand. “Good idea,” she said, smiling. “I’ll be sure to let HR know that you won’t be attending the party.”

  I nodded, and turning, I fled the ladies’ restroom feeling lighter than I’ve felt all week. Not only did that evil she-witch save me from having to go to the party, she got me out of having to have lunch with my mother and sister on Sunday.

  Lunch with them was always a tally of the scorecard my mother kept on us. On paper, my sister wasn’t any more successful in life than I was, but she came in a prettier package, and even though she’s yet to keep a man, she dated and that gave my mother hope at least one of us would land a man and give her grandbabies.

  I walked back to my desk and unlocked my computer. But before I got back to work, I pulled out my cell phone and fired off a group text to my mother and sister explaining that I had to cancel. After throwing my phone back into my desk drawer, I got back to work on my current project.

  True to her word, an hour after lunch, Katrina stopped by my desk and dropped off the Rose-McCurry file. She gave me another one of her false apologies and then sauntered off the same way she came.

  It didn’t take long for me to submerge myself in the financial world of Rose-McCurry. I was so lost in its world of numbers that I didn’t notice when the office quieted down. I didn’t notice as the main lights on the floor dimmed. I didn’t notice when bodies started dusting and vacuuming around me.

  The second I knew I wouldn’t have to go to the party, I ignored the announcement that the offices were closing early today so that employees had enough time to relax and get ready for the party. Time no longer existed for me. Just work.

  It wasn’t until I had stopped by the break room to grab a bottled water that I noticed it was already past six. I had already planned to work until around nine, so I grabbed a couple of granola bars from the vending machine while I was at it.

  Once I got back to my desk, it wasn’t long before I was back in the groove and ignoring everything around me.

  A pity that.

  Had I been more aware of my surroundings, I wouldn’t have screamed like a murder victim when a masculine voice, raw and gravelly, reached my ears. “What are you still doing here?”

  I turned and looked up into the face of Michael Buchanan.

  Oh shit.

  Chapter 4

  Michael~

  I was still riding the high from my first week of work when I left Aiden’s office. I had been thrilled to learn that, for the most part, our employees were happy, and we had a very minimal of complaints considering the amount of people we employed. Not to mention, those complaints were minor issues that were all resolved in a timely manner.

  Mason had insisted that we meet weekly for a formal, communication meetings, which I didn’t mind. But I also had to duck a stapler when I suggested we have the meetings in my office since, at any given moment, Shane, Denise or Justice might be bent over a desk.

  The stapler was thrown, but not a word was spoken in denial.

  I was just rounding the corner when I ran into Denise. “Hey, Gorgeous.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Are you guys done with your meeting already?”

  I smiled a knowing smile. Aiden was going to have to apologize for the stapler. “Why, yes,” I said as I winked at her. “We are.”

  Denise shook her head. “Walk with me, youngin’.”

  “Hey, I might be a few years younger than you, but I’m all man, sweet thing,” I defended.

  I could see the edges of her mouth curve. “You are so impossible,” she chastised.

  I followed her back the way I came. “Only when I’m struck dumb by stunning women,” I replied cheekily.

  She chose to change the subject. “Are you ready for the party tonight?”

  I nodded. “I sure am,” I answered. “Are you ladies going to dress sexy for me?”

  “Michael Buchanan,” she said, laughing. “Behave.”

  “Oh, come on, Dibtab,” I whined. “You guys are the only ladies in my life. Give me something here.”

  We reached Aiden’s office, and with one hand on the doorknob, she turned towards me and said, “I’ll never forgive you two twerps for saddling me with that ridiculous name.”

  I shrugged a shoulder and grinned. “Aiden doesn’t think it’s ridiculous,” I teased. The first time Gabe and I had met Denise, she was walking out of Aiden’s bedroom wearing nothing but his shirt. When we started to ogle her and asked for her name, Aiden had so cavemanishly announced that her name was Denise I Belong To Aiden Buchanan. Dibtab was born and we’ve been calling her that ever since.

  I was convinced she secretly loved it.

  “That’s because Aiden is ridiculous,” she argued. Denise turned the knob and walked in without knocking. I peeked my head in after her and I couldn’t help but feel happy at the smile that lit up my brother’s face as he watched his wife walking towards him.

  And because I really did deserve an apology, I hollered, “I’ll be expecting an apology for the stapler later tonight!” And then I closed the door on Aiden’s chuckle.

  I was headed back down the hallway when I heard my name echo out of one of the empty visitor offices that lined the east side of the floor. We often had many clients and business associates that needed privacy when meeting with us. We had empty offices for this purpose.

  I knew I should probably keep walking, but when I person hears their name being spoken, it was only natural to want to hear what was being said about you.

  I walked over and stood just outside the doorway. I figured Aiden and Denise would be occupied for a while and Aiden’s assistant always stayed at her post with Denise visited because…well, she knew.

  “Seriously?” said one female voice. “Michael Buchanan?”

  “Well, I can hardly go after Mason, Aiden or Gabriel, now can I?” I heard another female voice reason. “If the rumors are to be believed, those men are crazy in love with their wives.”

  I heard a scoff. “So, if they weren’t, they’d be fair game?”

  “You make it sound as if trying to land a rich, good looking man is the worst thing a girl could do.”

  I heard a sigh. “It’s not,” the first voice replied. “I just think that going after Michael Buchanan just because he’s the last available Buchanan is rather cold.”

  Cold and rather presumptuous. This girl is automatically thinking she’s my type?