Page 13 of Taming the Billionaire Cowboy (The Billionaire’s Bidding #3)

CARLY

T he ranch is taken over by a tranquil quiet at the end of the day, when the sun is burning out, turning the paddock and barns and trailers golden. Bradley, hyper from exhaustion, bounces up to the car, flinging open the back door and diving inside.

“Can I have your phone?” he asks.

“Are you even buckled up?”

He clicks his seatbelt and holds his hand out expectantly. I can tell he’s been thinking about the YouTube video Ferris showed him last week. Cute bunnies hop around to a hip-hop beat, and Ferris made the mistake of saying she’d show him how to find more.

I feel guilty about the screen time but hand the phone over anyway.

Sometimes the drive home is the only peace and quiet I get.

I drop into the driver’s seat, hoping I make it home in time to put dinner on before Bradley gets too hungry and cranky.

Fiddling with the keys, I give the engine a turn, but all I get is a coughing sound and the rumbling sigh of an engine that’s not going to start.

The dashboard stays dark when I try again.

“Can we go?” Bradley pipes up from the back seat.

“We can’t if the car doesn’t work,” I say, feeling my blood pressure climbing.

I bite my bottom lip. This isn’t what I need right now. Well, it isn’t what I need ever.

I glance at the house, which Oliver disappeared into a couple minutes ago when we said goodbye, then pull my phone out of my purse.

Ferris picks up on the first ring. “Hey. Perfect timing. I’m walking out of work now.”

“I was hoping that was the case. Bradley and I are at the ranch, and my car won’t start. Can you pick us up? I think I need to call a tow truck, but I need to get Bradley home first.”

And then I can figure out the plan for tomorrow. I’ll have to bum another ride to work… and maybe bring Bradley, if camp is still closed… and then call a tow truck to pick the car up from the ranch… and hopefully they can finish working on it before the end of the day…

“I’m on my way,” she promises before hanging up.

“Ferris is picking us up,” I tell Bradley. “The car isn’t working.”

“Okay,” he murmurs, and I glance in the rearview mirror to see him slumped against the door, exhausted eyes glazed over as he stares at the screen.

Needing some air, I get out of the car, only to find Oliver walking over.

“The car isn’t starting,” I tell him. “My cousin is on the way to pick us up. Is it okay if I leave it here until a tow truck can come get it? Either tonight or tomorrow morning, hopefully.”

“You mind if I take a look?”

It’s the last thing I expect to hear from his lips. “Um… sure.”

Does he even know anything about cars?

But as I watch, Oliver goes confidently around to the front and pops the hood. It sounds like a firework when he cracks it open, and the release makes me jump a little.

“Why?” I finally ask. “Why are you even?—”

“Looking at your car?” he interrupts. He’s busy with something under the hood. “Ah. You need a new battery. That’s all.”

“Oh.”

He glances up at me, like he knows exactly what I’m thinking, and turns the tables on me once again. “I worked on cars in high school,” he says.

I don’t know how to respond, so I just stand there. Oliver? CEO Oliver?

“My mom and I didn’t have a lot,” he continues. “I got used to fixing up the car every few months. Started doing the same for a few friends. Earned some good money doing it.”

My jaw drops. “Oh.”

I know I should say something else, but for the life of me I can’t find the words. I’ve never imagined Oliver’s life growing up, but if I had, it would have included things like servants and ski trips.

“I can order you a new battery, have it here in a few days. No need to tow it anywhere.”

“I don’t want to put you out,” I protest.

“No sense making things harder than they need to be,” he says. “Trust me on this one.”

I don’t know why, but I think I might be able to.

It’s just a battery, a hundred bucks tops. And I know it doesn’t take long to put them in. Still, something nags at me, and I think of Bradley’s father and how ever since him it’s always seemed like there’s going to be a catch.

I take a deep breath. Oliver is nothing like him .

For one thing, Oliver hasn’t skipped town in the middle of the night, and he’s definitely not skipping out on my car.

So I don’t even know why I’m comparing them.

There’s no risk here. It’s not like I’m trusting him with something as important as a kid.

“Thank you,” I finally say. “Really.”

Oliver lets the hood close. It falls with a thunk, sending up a cloud of dust. “Not a big deal. We’ll have you back on the road by Friday.” He brushes off his hands and wipes his palms on his jeans. He seems almost shy.

“I’ll pay you for?—”

He grins and shakes his head. “No, you won’t.”

I hesitate once more. “I don’t want you to?—”

“You can’t accept nice gestures?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. Apparently not.

Does that mean there’s something wrong with me?

“Thank you,” I say.

He nods, and though it’s hard to see his eyes in the dark, I feel his gaze on me like it’s a physical touch, my skin tingling under the weight of it.

Headlights slice through the night, making their way up the driveway. “That’s Ferris.” I knock on Bradley’s window. “Hey. Grab your things. Ferris is here.”

She parks and gets out, and before I can introduce her and Oliver, he’s extending his hand. “Oliver Greer.”

“Ferris.” She shakes his hand. “Nice to meet you.”

There are grumbles from Bradley as he has to relocate cars, and a quick goodbye to Oliver. Within a few seconds, we’re off, the three of us leaving the ranch behind.

Ferris shoots me a look.

“What?” I ask.

She shakes her head innocently, a knowing smile on her face.

“Keep your eyes on the road,” I tell her.

At home, Bradley jumps out of the car and runs straight inside. Ferris and I linger on the porch as the TV light shines through the front window. Based on how hard he worked himself today, I reckon there’s a ninety percent chance he’ll be asleep on the couch within five minutes.

“He’s even hotter in person,” Ferris says, and I can tell she’s been waiting the whole drive home to drop that comment.

“Eh.” I shrug a shoulder.

“What? You disagree?”

“No, he’s … yeah, he’s cute-” I stumble over my words. “He’s in way over his head. He bought the ranch not knowing what he’s doing.”

“That’s why he hired you, though, right?”

I pause, glancing over at my cousin, who is watching me with a faint smile playing on her lips. “Yes,” I finally admit, returning her smile. “He wanted someone experienced to help him.”

“So.” She leans against the porch railings, folding her hands behind her back as she looks out at the darkened yard. After a moment of silence, she turns to me and raises an eyebrow. “You think there might be something more to him?”

“What?” I stumble over the word as heat floods my cheeks. “No. Not at all. He’s my boss, Ferris. Nothing more. And he’s unbearable.”

“A man fixing your car doesn’t sound unbearable to me.”

I let that sink in. She’s right. Ever since Oliver hired me, he’s been slowly turning over a new page. He’s been listening to my expertise, working hard, and today was full of new surprises.

His sweetness with Bradley. His ability and willingness to fix my car.

Maybe I don’t know my new boss at all. Maybe I’ve read him all wrong.

So why am I still holding on to my initial impression? Insisting on butting heads with him? Could it be I’m trying to protect myself?

I don’t know, but I don’t have time to dive deep into this sort of contemplation. I need to make dinner and get Bradley in the bathtub — assuming he’s even still awake.

“Thank you for the ride.” I give Ferris a hug.

She squeezes me hard. “How are you getting to work tomorrow?”

Good question. I already know Ferris has an early shift. “I’ll see if Mom can take me.”

We say goodnight, and I head inside. Sure enough, Bradley is passed out on the couch, spread out, his cheek squashed against a throw pillow. I gently shake him awake and guide him toward his room.

“Your bed’s much comfier, kiddo,” I say, stifling a yawn of my own.

He mumbles, rubbing at his eyes as he shuffles along. “Mom, can Oliver come to my birthday?”

I feel like I’ve been punched in the gut. “What?”

“My birthday,” he repeats groggily. “Can Oliver come?”

“I… don’t know, honey,” I finally manage to reply. “I guess we’ll have to see.”

He seems satisfied with that and lets me tuck him into bed without any further discussion. But as I turn out his light and leave his room, his question hangs in the air around me like a ghost.

Could we invite Oliver? Should we?

Is that toeing the line of propriety? Is it okay to invite my boss — who I have a crush on — to a family event? Or am I seriously overthinking this?

Oliver isn’t all that bad. In fact, he’s more than okay. He’s…

I don’t want to think about it anymore, don’t want to go there. Everything in my life is working fine. It’s a well-oiled machine — me, Bradley, my job, my family. I haven’t dated since Aaron, and there’s no reason to start now.

Do I get lonely sometimes? Yes. Sure.

But I’m fine. Because I have to be. Because there is no other choice. And letting my walls down and allowing a person I barely know into our lives in such an intimate way would be a risk, and the last time I took a risk, things didn’t turn out well.

Better safe than sorry. Even if it leaves me with a hollow ache in my chest.