Page 26 of Taming the Billionaire Cowboy (The Billionaire’s Bidding #3)

OLIVER

T he skyline of Houston glitters beyond my office window, the lights blurring as I rub my tired eyes. It’s nearly midnight, but the stack of contracts on my desk isn’t getting any smaller. Marie left hours ago, after placing a sandwich on my desk that still sits untouched.

I check my phone again. No new messages from Carly. Our conversation yesterday was brief, stilted. I couldn’t focus properly with Dave hovering nearby, the celebration loud around me. I should have stepped outside and found a quiet corner. Should have given her my full attention.

But there’s always something urgent happening here. Always another deal, another meeting, another crisis to manage.

My phone buzzes with an incoming call from Dave, but I silence it without answering. He can wait until the morning.

Instead, I pull up Carly’s contact and stare at her picture. It’s one I snapped at the ranch when she wasn’t looking, her hair windblown as she leaned against the fence, watching Bradley with one of the horses. The sun had caught in her hair, turning the light brown into spun gold.

God, I miss her. I miss both of them.

I hit the call button before I can talk myself out of it. It’s late, but I know she’s probably still up. She always reads before bed.

“Hey.” Her voice is guarded when she answers.

“Hey,” I say, leaning back in my chair. “I hope it’s not too late to call.”

“I was just reading.”

I smile. Some things are predictable. “How was your day? I’m sorry about yesterday. That call was a disaster.”

There’s a pause. “Bradley helped with the trail rides this morning. The Johnson kids were here, and he showed them how to feed the horses.”

“He’s becoming quite the little rancher.” I can picture it — Bradley’s serious face as he demonstrates the proper way to hold out a carrot, palm flat like Carly taught him. Like she taught me.

“He is.” Her voice softens when she talks about her son. “He asked about you again.”

The guilt hits me like a physical blow. “What did you tell him?”

“The same thing I always tell him. That you’re working, and you’ll be back soon.” She pauses. “Though I’m starting to feel like a liar.”

Her words hang between us. I close my eyes, pressing my fingers to my temple where a headache is forming.

“Carly, I?—”

“When are you coming back, Oliver? Really?”

The directness of her question takes me by surprise, though it shouldn’t. She’s never been one to dance around issues.

“Things are complicated right now,” I begin. “The deal I had to come back here for was just the beginning. Things are hot right now. We have another major acquisition on the table, and if we pull it off, it could double our profits this quarter.”

“So that’s more important to you.” It’s not a question.

“That’s not fair. This company is what I’ve built my entire life around. I can’t walk away when things get critical.”

“I’m not asking you to walk away,” she says, frustration clear in her voice. “I’m asking when you’re coming back, like you promised you would. You said one day. It’s been almost two weeks.”

I stand up, unable to sit still with this tension building inside me. “I know what I said. But this isn’t just any job, Carly. I’m not punching a clock here. This company employs hundreds of people. Their livelihoods depend on me making the right decisions.”

“I understand that.” She softens. “I’m sorry.

I’m not trying to make you give up your company or anything.

It’s just… you came to Miralena to get away from the stress, and now you’re right back in it.

Plus, you said you would be able to do most of the work remotely, that you were staying at the ranch.

And now that doesn’t seem to be the case. ”

Her words cut deep because she’s right. I did make promises. Promises I meant with every fiber of my being when I made them.

“I’m trying to figure it out,” I say, pacing to the window. The city spreads out beneath me, endless and bright. It’s so different from the star-filled sky over Miralena. “Maybe you and Bradley could come visit Houston instead? I could show you both around, take you to the museums, the zoo?—”

“That’s not the point, Oliver,” she interrupts. “This isn’t about visiting each other. This is about what you said you wanted — a life with us in Miralena. Something easier that wasn’t going to drive you to another panic attack or worse.”

I press my forehead against the cool glass of the window. “I meant it when I said it.”

“But not anymore?”

“It’s not that simple. Yes, I want to be with you there. And it’s stressful?—”

“Actually, it is that simple.” Her voice has gone quiet, which is somehow worse than if she were shouting. “You’re choosing your old life over the one you said you wanted with us.”

“I’m not choosing—” But I stop, because I am, aren’t I? Every day I stay in Houston is a choice. Every meeting I take, every deal I pursue, is a choice to be here and not there.

“This isn’t working for me, Oliver,” she says after a long silence. “This limbo. These short calls. Bradley asking every day when you’re coming back, and me not having an answer.”

Something cold settles in my chest. She’s done with me. With this. With us.

“I understand,” I say, my voice sounding strange to my own ears. “You deserve better than this uncertainty.”

“That’s not what I’m saying?—”

“No, you’re right,” I cut in, the words tumbling out. “You deserve someone who can be there for you both. Not someone who can’t even make a proper phone call without getting interrupted.”

The silence stretches between us. I’ve misstepped, but I’m not sure how.

“So that’s it?” she finally asks. “You’re giving up?”

Am I? Is that what I’m doing? The thought makes me sick, but what other option is there? I can’t be in two places at once, and right now, the company needs me here.

“Carly, I care about you and Bradley more than I can say. But I can’t keep making promises I can’t keep. It’s not fair to either of you.”

“Then stop making promises you can’t keep,” she says, her voice breaking slightly. “Come home.”

Home. The word lands like a punch to the gut. I thought Miralena was my new home, but maybe, like Carly said when we met, I was just a rich dude ‘playing cowboy’.

“The ranch is yours,” I say suddenly. The idea pops fully formed into my mind. “You know the animals and the land better than anyone. It should be yours.”

“What?” She sounds stunned. “Oliver, I don’t want the ranch. I want?—”

“It’s the right thing to do,” I press on. “You can run it however you want. Set up those trail parties and wedding packages you were talking about. You won’t have to worry about money. I’m giving it to you, paid off. Bradley can have all the space he needs to grow up around the animals he loves.”

“This isn’t about money or the ranch,” she says, anger creeping into her voice. “This is about us. About what we were building together. And it’s about your health?—”

“I’m trying to do the right thing here.”

“By buying me off? By throwing money at the problem instead of actually fixing it?”

I flinch at her accuracy. Isn’t that exactly what I’m doing? Using my wealth to solve a problem I don’t know how to fix any other way?

“That’s not what I meant,” I say, though part of me knows it is. “I just want to make sure you and Bradley are taken care of.”

“We were doing fine before you showed up, and we’ll do fine after you’re gone,” she says, her voice hard now. “Keep your ranch, Oliver.”

“Carly, please. I’m trying to?—”

“To what? Ease your conscience? Make yourself feel better about choosing your company over us? Well, don’t worry about it. We’ll be fine.”

I sink back into my chair, feeling the situation spiral further out of my control. “I still want to be part of your lives. I can visit when things settle down here?—”

“Don’t bother,” she cuts in. “A clean break will be better for all of us. Especially Bradley.”

The finality in her voice knocks the wind out of me. “You don’t mean that.”

“I do. He’s asking every day when you’re coming back. I won’t have him waiting by the window for visits that keep getting pushed back because something more important came up in Houston.”

Her words paint a vivid picture that makes my chest ache. Bradley waiting. Carly making excuses for me. The disappointment on both their faces when I cancel yet again.

“I never wanted to hurt either of you,” I say, my voice choked.

“I know.” Her voice softens slightly. “But you have to choose, Oliver. You can’t have both lives.”

She’s right. I’ve been trying to maintain two completely separate existences — the accomplished CEO in Houston, and the wannabe-cowboy learning to ride horses and falling in love in Miralena. I thought I could balance them, but I was wrong.

“I need to go,” she says after another long silence. “It’s late, and I have to be up early.”

“Carly, wait?—”

“Goodbye, Oliver.”

The line goes dead before I can respond. I stare at my phone, the sudden disconnect like a physical blow.

She’s gone. They’re both gone. And it’s my fault.

I should call her back. I should tell her I’ll be on the next flight to Miralena. I should tell her that nothing — not even this company I’ve spent my whole life building up from nothing — matters more than what we found together.

But my finger hovers over her name without pressing call. Because what would I actually say? That I’m ready to walk away from everything I’ve worked for? That I can turn my back on the responsibilities here?

I thought I could work remotely, but obviously that’s not the case. I need to either be here or be there.

I drop my phone onto the desk and bury my face in my hands.

When did everything get so complicated? When I went to Miralena, it was supposed to be a short break, a chance to reset before diving back into work.

I never expected to find a woman who would challenge me, make me laugh, and support me.

I never expected to care so deeply for her son, to see myself in him and to want to be the father figure he deserves.

I never expected to fall in love.

My phone buzzes with another call from Dave. This time, I answer.

“We need to talk about the Parker acquisition,” he says without any preamble. “The numbers aren’t adding up.”

“I’ll be right there,” I respond automatically, already standing and reaching for my jacket.

But as I head for the door, I catch sight of my reflection in the window — tired eyes, tension in my jaw, shoulders hunched with the weight of responsibility.

Is this who I want to be? Is this the life I want?

The questions follow me as I step into the empty hallway, my footsteps echoing in the silence.