After that, I never again had another girlfriend from this town and wanted to get as far away from it as possible. When I asked Kara, Cindy, then Nicky to marry me, a prenup wasn't even a question. Negotiations were long and hellacious with all three of them.

My father nods. "Good. Although, she's got spunk in her. I hope you never have to use it."

"I won't," I claim, but my gut churns. I've never lied to my family on this level. And I already know they will be disappointed when they hear I'm divorced.

Annulled.

Like that little difference will make my parents any happier.

But I'll be CEO, and my father won't be able to hold it over my head any longer.

"Let's go see your brothers. They're training a new Thoroughbred," my father informs me.

The racing side of our business is newer. My brothers all love horses. I used to, but I haven't ridden in a long time. Being in the city, there aren't a lot of opportunities, and I avoid coming home at all costs. It's not because I don't love my family, but I'm busy with work and can't stand half the people in this town.

My father leads us to the stables.

Alexander states, "You're in time for the race on Tuesday night. We've got two new ones entered."

"That was faster than expected, wasn't it?" I question. I don't know much about this business since I spend my time developing the big money makers for our family, which are oil and cattle.

My brother Mason sees me and jumps off a horse. "Sebastian!"

Jagger leans against the fence and spins, then wraps his arms around me. "Bro, about time you got here."

"Where's your woman? Mom wouldn't stop obsessing over who you were bringing," Mason asks, then gives me a guy hug over the fence.

My father answers, "She's inside planning their wedding for next Saturday."

My brothers gape at me.

"Don't everyone speak at once," I tease.

"This Saturday? As in a week?" Jagger asks.

"Yep. No time like the present," I declare.

"Well, shit. Congratulations," he states.

"You're a crazy bastard. Mom's going to be a basket case this week," Mason claims.

"Sorry," I say, knowing he's telling the truth.

"Don't speak about your mother that way," my father warns.

My brothers and I exchange a look. My father always sticks up for my mother, even though he knows we speak the truth.

I turn toward him. "So why did you bring me down here? What did you want to talk about?"

He points to the horse Mason was on. "See that horse?"

"Yeah. He's beautiful," I declare, assessing his reddish-brown coat. It's a lot brighter than most chestnut-colored horses.

"Your mom picked him, so I named him Red Ruby. He's running faster than any current contenders, including Penny Lane," my father claims.

Penny Lane's a Kentucky Derby favorite. I whistle. "For real?"