The Billionaire Branson Brothers: Jesse: The Billionaire Branson Brothers

By Lexi Masters

He left town, left me broken hearted and PISSED!

Now, the boy who broke my heart wants to make amends—but I don't know if I can trust Jesse Whitmore with my heart again.

We are both back in Branson, working together, and sparks still smolder between us.

I see the changes in Jesse. I see the honorable man he's become.

But caring for my dying father and facing the man that broke my heart is a lot of emotion for me to deal with. One day I am ready to take a chance, the next I am pushing him away.

The wounds never fully healed, the anger never went away—but neither did my love for him. I'm terrified of losing my chance at happiness with Jesse once more.

I want to believe hearts can heal.

If second chances exist, we'll have to fight for ours.

• Language: English
• Publisher: ALJ Publishing
• Release date: Jun 25, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227719904

Book preview

1

BACK TO BRANSON – FRANKIE

Branson looks pretty much the same as it was when I left—small and quiet. As I drive past the familiar landmarks, I can’t help but think back to all the memories I’ve made here. The good and the bad.

Jesse Whitmore is both.

He was the love of my life when we were younger. But things changed when he left to join the Marines. I wasn’t ready to let him go, but Jesse made his choice.

As I pull up to my father’s house, I can’t help but feel overwhelmed. Dad’s illness was unexpected, and I feel guilty for not coming back sooner. He was always supportive of me and my career.

My old childhood home exudes an air of timeless comfort. It’s a quaint, two-story house nestled amidst a neighborhood of similar residences. The exterior is adorned with a fresh coat of sky-blue paint that still retains its vibrancy after all these years. A white picket fence surrounds the front yard, its pickets weathered by countless seasons. The front porch, framed by delicate wisteria vines, stands as a symbol of welcoming warmth, and the weathered wooden swing creaks with fond memories.

Upon stepping inside, I am enveloped in the gentle embrace of nostalgia. The living room, with its well-worn but cozy furniture, evokes recollections of evenings spent by the fireplace, wrapped in the comfort of family. The walls are adorned with photos that capture the essence of my past—birthdays, holidays, and cherished family gatherings.

The heart of the house, the kitchen, is a space that has witnessed countless conversations and shared laughter over the years. The scent of freshly baked pies and home-cooked meals still lingers in the air. The sunlit dining area, framed by lace curtains, bathes the room in a warm, golden glow.

Hey, Dad. How are you doing? I ask as I walk into the house.

Oh, Frankie. It’s so good to see you, he says as he hugs me tightly.

I can tell he’s struggling. His once strong and sturdy frame is now frail and weak. It breaks my heart to see him like this.

Let’s get you settled in, and then we can catch up, he says as he leads me to my old room.

As I unpack, I can’t help but notice that everything is just how I left it. It’s as if I never left. But that’s not entirely true… because the biggest part of my life, Jesse, is no longer here.

I look out my window and see our back garden, where colorful flowers still dance in the breeze. It’s a place of solace and contemplation, a sanctuary where my father and I used to spend hours tending to the blooms while he imparted lessons on life and resilience.

I take a moment to breathe deeply, just letting myself be with my memories, a place where the past and present intermingle in a timeless dance of emotions.

Then I return to the present and go downstairs to my father.

Do you want some tea, honey? my dad asks as soon as he sees me.

That would be great, thanks.

We head to the kitchen, and I sit at the table while my dad puts the kettle on.

So, how are you really doing, Dad? I ask, wanting to know the truth.

Oh, you know. I’ve been better, he replies with a smile. But I’m glad you’re here. I’ve missed you.

I’ve missed you too, Dad. That’s why I’m here. I wanted to spend some time with you and help out while I can.

I know my dad is a proud man, but he’s also my family, and I will always be there for him.

Thank you, Frankie. That means a lot to me.

We sit and drink our tea as we catch up on each other’s lives. I tell him about my job and the events I’ve been planning. He tells me about how the town is the same, but a few businesses have changed.

So, tell me about Jesse. How is he? I ask, my curiosity getting the better of me.

He’s doing well. He’s been working hard at the family business.

That’s good. I’m glad he’s doing well.

I can’t help but feel a twinge of sadness. Part of me will always wonder what would have happened if Jesse had stayed in Branson.

Don’t worry, Frankie. Things have a way of working out the way they’re supposed to.

I give my dad a smile, but I’m not sure I believe him. Sometimes it’s hard to see the silver lining when you’re caught in the middle of the storm.

But I appreciate my dad’s optimism and his faith in me. And I’m grateful that I’m here, able to spend time with him.

Thanks, Dad. I appreciate that.

The next morning, I accompany my father to his doctor’s appointment at the veterans’ center. We are greeted by Dr. Green, a physician my father has been seeing a lot lately.

How are you feeling today, Mr. Turner? the doctor asks.

I’m doing all right, Doc. Just a little tired, my father replies.

That’s to be expected. Your body is fighting a tough battle.

The doctor proceeds to check my father’s vitals and asks him a few questions about his symptoms.

The good news is that your condition is stable. However, I would recommend starting chemotherapy as soon as possible, the doctor says.

Are you sure? I don’t want to put too much strain on my body, my father responds.

I understand your concerns, but I believe it’s the best course of action at this time.

The doctor explains the risks and benefits of chemotherapy and answers my father’s questions. My mind is racing with the information, but I know I need to be strong for my dad.

All right, Doc. Let’s do it, my father finally says.

Dr. Green gives him a reassuring smile and tells us he’ll set up the first round of treatment. I take my father’s hand and give it a squeeze.

You’re gonna beat this, Dad. I know it.

My father gives me a small smile, but I can see the worry in his eyes. I just hope and pray that the doctor is right and that chemo is the best option for my father.

As we leave the doctor’s office, I feel a sense of dread and anxiety, but I know I have to stay positive for my dad. We will get through this together, no matter what.

What’s next on the agenda, honey? My father asks as we walk out to the car.

Well, I was thinking we could stop by the old diner and get some lunch, I reply.

Sounds good to me.

The ride to the diner is filled with comfortable silence as we both take in the familiar sights and sounds of our hometown. As we pull into the parking lot, I can’t help but smile as I remember all the times Jesse and I spent here.

It’s been a while since I’ve been here, my father says as we walk in.

It sure has, I reply, the memories flooding back.

The waitress leads us to a booth and takes our order. As we wait for our food, we talk about the old days, the good times.

I’m glad you came home, Frankie, my father says, a sincere smile on his face.

Me too, Dad. Me too.

Our food arrives, and we dig in, savoring every bite. It’s not the fanciest place, but it’s got good, hearty food. And more importantly, it’s a reminder of the simpler times.

So, tell me, what are you going to do with your time here? my dad asks.

I’m not sure yet. I have some ideas, but I want to see what opportunities are available first, I say, not wanting to make any decisions just yet.

Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out. You always do, my father replies, a smile on his face.

The rest of the meal is spent reminiscing about the old days, when life was a bit simpler and more carefree. I’m grateful for the time I’m getting to spend with my dad, and I’m determined to make the most of it.

I look up and see Jesse Whitmore at the counter. Our eyes lock, and my breath catches in my throat. It’s been years since I’ve seen him, and he looks good. Damn good. He gives me a nod and a half-smile, and I can’t help but remember all the times we spent together.

It’s good to see you, Frankie, he says, his voice sending shivers down my spine.

You too, Jesse, I reply, trying to keep my composure.

How are you liking the city? he asks, and I know he’s making small talk.

It’s good. It’s busy and exciting. But I’m happy to be home.

Good to hear, he says, and I can see a hint of regret in his eyes.

He notices my father. Nice to see you, Mr. Turner.

Good to see you, Jesse, my dad replies, and I can tell he’s feeling the same mix of emotions as me.

We continue our small talk, but the tension between us is palpable. The chemistry we had is still there, even after all these years.

Well, it was nice catching up, Jesse says. But I’ve got to go.

Take care, Jesse.

You too, Frankie.

As he leaves, I can’t help but feel a tingle in the pit of my stomach. Jesse Whitmore was always a sight to behold, and now that Jesse and I are both back in town, I can’t help but wonder what’s next for us.

I shake my head and push the thoughts away. We have too much history and not enough time to go down that road again.

Still, it’s nice to see him and catch up. It’s been far too long.

I look over at my father and give him a smile. You ready to go, Dad?

Yeah, let’s head home.

As we leave, I can’t help but wonder what else awaits me in Branson.

2

REDEMPTION’S PATH – JESSE

The meeting with the VA representative is tense. It’s the first time we’ve all sat down together to discuss the memorial idea.

When we first started talking about building a new veterans’ memorial in town, I was so excited about the idea that I immediately offered to pay for the entire project. But the VA rep turned down my offer, explaining that their vision was for this memorial to really be a community-led endeavor—something funded by efforts from the local residents and businesses. At first, I balked, not understanding why anyone would refuse this kind of money. But after I gave it some thought, I came around. Sure, my family could bankroll the whole endeavor without blinking, and people would fawn over us, but then it would be forgotten. With everyone involved, it will be a labor of love—something that will stick out in the town’s history.

I called him back with a compromise—whatever the community raises, the Whitmores will match I, and if that means the project is overfunded, all the better. It’ll be put to good use in another way.

Now, my brother Raylan and I are anxious to get started, but our younger brother, Luke, seems hesitant.

Are you sure we should do this? Luke asks, his brow furrowed in concern.

What do you mean? Raylan responds.

I don’t know. It just seems like a lot to handle.

Luke, come on. It’s not like they’ll be leaving up to us. We can only screw things up so much, I joke, trying to get him to laugh.

It’s a great idea, guys. There’s a real need for something like this in the community, the VA rep chimes in.

Raylan nods his agreement. Look, we can’t change the past, but we can try to do something to honor our father’s memory.

I watch Luke closely, trying to gauge his reaction. He’s always been a bit hesitant, especially when it comes to family matters—so afraid of making a mess that he doesn’t want to try.

I guess you’re right, Luke finally says. Let’s do this.

We shake hands with the VA rep and start hammering out the details. It’s a huge undertaking, and there’s a lot to plan.

Where do we start? Raylan asks, his voice echoing my own thoughts.

Well, the first thing we need to do is choose a location, somewhere central and easily accessible, the VA rep explains.

I have some ideas, I say, thinking of a few empty lots around town.

Perfect. Let’s start there.

We continue brainstorming, discussing different possibilities and coming up with a game plan. It’s a lot to take in, but I’m excited.

We need a project leader, the VA rep says.

I’ll do it, I say without hesitation.

I have experience in the field and a genuine interest in helping. It’s a perfect opportunity for me to give back and make a difference.

Great, we’ll get started right away, the VA rep says, shaking my hand.

I’m grateful for the opportunity and proud to be a part of the project. I’m determined to have a positive impact on the community that’s supported me.

What’s the first step? I ask, eager to get started.

We need to survey the community and gauge their interest. We’ll also need to work with the local government to secure the necessary permits and approvals.

Sounds like a good plan. Where should we start?

The VA rep smiles. We have some surveys already printed. You and your team can start handing them out and collecting feedback.

Okay, great. We can start by handing them out at the veterans’ center.

I’m excited and a bit nervous, but I know we can do this. We have a great team and the support of the community.

As we leave the meeting, I am excited. A little nervous too. But mostly excited about the project. It will be a way to honor my father’s memory in a way leaves a lasting impact on our community.

We’ve got this, guys. I know it, I say as we head to our trucks.

I hope so, Luke says, his brow furrowed in concern.

Luke, come on. Donate a few hours, and you’ll see how great it is.

He nods. Yeah, you’re right. Sorry.

Don’t worry about it, Raylan says, clapping him on the back.

We say goodbye and go our separate ways. As I drive home, I think about all the things that led me here.

My life has been full of ups and downs, but this project is a chance for me to prove myself… and a chance to show Frankie that I’m not the same guy I was back then.

I still think about her. Her bright smile, her laughter, and her passion. She was the love of my life. But when I left, I didn’t have a choice.

I sigh, pushing the memories away. It’s no use dwelling on the past. All I can do is focus on the future and do my best