Page 22 of Taming the Billionaire Cowboy (The Billionaire’s Bidding #3)

OLIVER

A weight on my chest makes me hold my breath. At first, I think it’s panic, that familiar squeeze. But then I open my eyes.

It’s not panic. It’s not heavy or too hard. It’s her. Carly.

Carly in my arms and in my life, in this small bedroom.

She stirs from her sleep, lashes fluttering open. “Morning,” she murmurs.

“Morning,” I say, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.

She looks good here, next to me, in this bed that I should have been in long before now. “I’ve been up for hours,” I tease. “You sure sleep a lot for a ranch hand.”

She laughs and buries her head against my neck. “A little sore, city boy?”

“Not at all,” I say. “Are you?”

“I’ve had rougher rides.” Her breath is warm, and her touch is softer than the sun spilling in through the windows.

“We have time today,” I tell her, glad I took her advice and hired another ranch hand. He has things covered this morning, which means I don’t have to rush back.

She pulls me closer. “For what?”

“Each other.”

“What do you want to do?” she asks.

I keep her hand in mine, not want to let go. “Stay here forever?”

“I like that plan. Unfortunately…”

She doesn’t have to finish the sentence. The sound of little feet running through the house does.

“Seven-year-olds wake up early, huh?” I ask.

“Yep.” She bites her bottom lip. “We locked the door last night, right?”

“I did. You think I would let anything get in my way?”

She blushes pink. “Um, I think we should tell Bradley you slept on the couch. Just to keep things simple for him.”

“Of course.” I kiss the side of her head.

“Mom!” Bradley’s voice comes from the other side of the door, and I watch as she decides what to say, how to answer, what to do with me.

“I’ll be right there,” she calls, then hesitates. “He probably already saw the couch…”

“I have a better idea then.” Tossing off the covers, I pull on my clothes and shoes and head for the window.

“What are you doing?” she hisses.

With a wink, I open the window and climb out of it, landing in the grass. Quickly, I make my way around to the front of the house and knock on the door. Within a few seconds, footsteps approach.

Bradley opens the door, his eyes going big when he sees me. “Oh! Oliver!”

“Hey, buddy. Your mom invited me over for breakfast. I hope that’s okay.”

Behind him, Carly presses her hand to her mouth, trying to stifle a laugh.

“Yeah!” Bradley opens the door wider for me. “Come on!”

I follow him into the kitchen, making sure to give Carly a little slap on the behind when he can’t see.

“What should we make?” I ask Bradley

He’s already pushing a chair to the counter so that he can reach everything. “Pancakes!” he shouts. “Like a big stack of them.”

“Yeah,” I say. “Let’s make the biggest stack ever.”

“Who wants coffee?” Carly asks, heading for the pot, and Bradley laughs.

“No way!” he says. “I want pancakes.”

“Well, Mommy was up late…” She sends me a sultry glance. “And I need coffee.”

“Oh no,” I say. “Why were you up so late?”

Instead of answering, she sticks her tongue out at me and spoons beans into the grinder.

Bradley and I get to work, cracking eggs and measuring flour.

It’s not his first time making pancakes, apparently, because he instructs me on every step.

With the batter mixed and the fresh smell of coffee filling the kitchen, we turn on the skillet and get to cooking.

No sooner have we ladled the first batch onto the skillet than my phone rings.

I forgot it was even in my pocket.

Bradley looks at me. “You gonna get that?” he asks.

“Nope,” I say.

“You can answer it.” Carly nudges her way up to the counter. “I’ll take over till you get back.”

“Thank you,” I say, pulling out the phone and seeing it’s Dave.

Strange. It’s the first time he’s called me since I’ve arrived in Miralena, our only interaction being some check-in texts here and there. Bringing a cup of coffee with me, I answer the phone and walk to the front porch.

“Hey, man,” I say.

“Greer,” Dave says. “How’s it going?”

I shut the front door behind me, already grinning. “Pretty good, actually. How about you?”

“Not too bad. Hopefully about to be even better. Listen, that deal we were working on right before you left town?—”

“The one that fell through?” I sip my coffee.

“It’s back on the table.”

I let that sink in. “No shit.”

“We’re close, Oliver. Real close. I think they’ll sell this time, and I think you can make it happen. How soon can you be here?”

I hesitate, and he knows what it means. He knows me better than I’d like. “Do I have to do everything?” he asks. But he’s joking. I think.

I stare at the quiet street, caught between the life I lived for years and the one I’ve settled into now. I hadn’t planned on going back to Houston or to the office so soon, but this deal is huge. It’s the kind I’ve been waiting years to close.

“You still there?” he asks.

“Yeah. I’m here.”

“How soon?” Dave asks again.

“Today.” I close my eyes. I can feel the pull of it, the rush I didn’t want anymore, but can’t get away from, can’t ever let go of. “I’ll be back today.”

“Bring that cowboy hat of yours,” Dave says. “We might need it.”

I laugh, but there’s no air in my chest. “I’ll be there by noon.”

“Take care of yourself, Oliver. Seriously.” His voice softens, the same way it did when he sent me to the hospital, the same way it did when I first left the office, the same way it did when he knew I couldn’t handle it anymore. When I knew it too.

I hang up before I have a chance to change my mind. The thought of it, of losing this deal, makes me move faster than I thought I could. I punch in another number, start making the arrangements to take me away from what I love most.

“Mr. Greer,” the woman at the charter service says. “I hope you are well.”

“I am, thank you,” I tell her. “I need a jet. I’m in Miralena, Texas, so as close as it can pick me up from here.”

“When?” she asks.

“As soon as you can get one. This morning.” It’s a big ask, booking a private jet last minute, but it’s the kind of thing you can do when you have as much clout and money as I do. And while I don’t usually like to flex, sometimes those things do come in handy.

“How many passengers?” she asks.

“Just me.” The words don’t feel right. They don’t feel right at all. I should say three , should say all of us , should say me, Carly, and Bradley . But it’s just me. That’s how it’s always been.

“We have a Gulfstream, but it won’t be there until ten. It can pick you up at a private landing strip twenty miles outside of Miralena.”

“That’s fine,” I say. “Thanks.”

“Wonderful, sir. I will send you the address. Anything else?”

“That’s all. Thank you.”

I hang up, my hands vibrating with energy. Am I really ready to go back? Can I handle this?

Of course I can. What am I thinking? I had one panic attack; I didn’t fall apart at the seams. And Carly told me she will cover things at the ranch whenever I’m out of town. This is what I hired her for.

Back in the kitchen, they’re plating the pancakes, discussing whether or not they should draw smiles on them with whipped cream.

Carly glances over her shoulder at me and smiles. “Good call?”

“I gotta go to Houston,” I say. “Just for a day. Maybe a few. There’s a deal, and it’s big, and…”

I don’t know why I’m rambling, why I feel like I’m letting her down just by slipping away for a little while.

She wipes her hands on a dish towel, then wraps her arms around me, giving me everything I need in the moment. “This sounds big.”

“It is. You okay with this?”

Her face tilts up, a small smile, the one that kills me every time. “You’ll come back eventually,” she says.

Bradley watches us with interest, aware of the changed dynamic between me and his mother. I know Carly told him the two of us were dating, but I’m not sure what that means in his seven-year-old head.

“I’ll come back as soon as I can,” I promise Carly, looking deep into her eyes.

“What about breakfast?” Bradley asks.

I look at him, at his brown eyes and his trusting face, and it’s more than I can handle, more than I can take away with me.

“When I get back, we’ll make the biggest stack of pancakes ever made. Deal?”

He’s not convinced, and I can’t blame him.

“Mom?” he asks.

She ruffles his hair the same way I do. The same way she’ll keep doing until I’m back. “You’ll see him soon.”

“You better hurry if you’re leaving today,” Carly says. She holds my hand as tight as she did that first night in the rain, that night I’ll never forget.

“You’re not mad?” I ask, knowing she should be. Knowing she will be.

She shakes her head, and it’s so quiet I can’t stand it, so quiet I think I should hear more. “I’m proud of you,” she says.

“You’re right, I do need to head out. I have a flight at ten.” I squeeze her hand tighter. “Walk me outside?”

“I’ll be right back,” she tells Bradley. “You start eating.”

“Okay,” he says, already moving on to methodically arranging berries on his plate.

Carly and I walk to the porch, fingers intertwined, and though my heart is racing in excitement over this potential deal, I don’t want to let go of her hand.

“I’ll miss you,” I say, my thumb gently stroking the back of her hand. I want to tell her that I don’t want to go, even though I know this is important. I want to tell her that she’s become as significant to me as my work.

“I’ll miss you too,” she says softly, pulling me closer. “But I’ll be here when you come back.”

Our stare locks for a moment before we lean in for one last kiss. It’s slow and sweet, tinged with an unusual sadness that neither of us acknowledge.

“You’re gonna knock ’em dead out there,” she murmurs against my lips. Her hands move to my chest, giving me a warm squeeze just over my heart. “Just remember to bring yourself back when you’re done.”

“Nothing could keep me away,” I vow, pressing another swift kiss to her lips.

With that, I step back and move towards my truck. With one last glance at Carly waving from the porch, I pull out of the driveway and set course for the life I left behind. I’m dreading leaving my little paradise, but as Carly said, it’s only temporary.