Page 30 of Taming the Billionaire Cowboy (The Billionaire’s Bidding #3)

OLIVER – ONE YEAR LATER

T he sun isn’t even up yet, but I’m already awake. It’s become a habit over the past year — rising before dawn to enjoy a few quiet moments before the day begins. I carefully slide out of bed, trying not to disturb Carly, who’s still sleeping peacefully beside me.

I pause to look at her, hair splayed across the pillow, soft lips slightly parted. Even after a year, I sometimes can’t believe this is my life.

After pulling on jeans and a flannel shirt, I make my way downstairs, the old wooden steps creaking beneath my feet.

The ranch house feels different to when I first bought it — warmer, homely.

Carly’s sketches hang on the walls alongside Bradley’s school artwork.

Photos of the three of us are everywhere — riding horses, at the Fourth of July parade, and at Bradley’s eighth birthday party last month.

Home. It’s a word that used to mean nothing more than an expensive piece of real estate where I rarely spent time. Now it means everything.

The coffee machine hums to life when I press the button, and I breathe in the invigorating scent of morning time.

While it brews, I check my phone. There’s an email from Dave about quarterly reports, but it can wait.

My stake in the company ensures I’m kept in the loop, but the day-to-day operations aren’t my concern anymore.

I’ve found other concerns — better ones.

Cup in hand, I step out onto the porch and settle into the swing Carly and I installed last summer. The pre-dawn air is cool, carrying the scent of distant rain. Clucks and crows come from the chickens, and an occasional neigh leaves the stable.

“Couldn’t sleep?”

I turn to see Carly standing in the doorway, wrapped in a robe, her hair tousled from sleep.

“Just enjoying the quiet,” I say, making room for her on the swing. “Did I wake you?”

“The bed gets cold without you.” She sits beside me, curling her legs underneath her and leaning against my shoulder. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her close.

“Big day today,” she says, taking a sip from my coffee cup.

“The biggest,” I agree, feeling the small velvet box in my pocket press against my thigh. It’s been there for a week, waiting for the right moment.

Today marks exactly one year since I came back to the ranch, since I chose this life over everything I thought I wanted. One year since I made the best decision of my life.

“Bradley’s so excited to celebrate your ‘ranchiversary’,” she says with a small laugh. “He’s been working on a card for days.”

My heart swells at the thought. That kid. In some ways, it feels like he’s always been mine.

“Perfect,” I say, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

We sit in comfortable silence as the sky gradually lightens. Pinks and oranges streak across the horizon, painting the landscape in warm hues. A year ago, I would have missed this, too busy checking emails or preparing for meetings.

“I need to get Bradley up for school,” Carly says eventually, reluctantly pulling away.

“I’ll start breakfast,” I offer. “Pancakes?”

“Um, sure. But you’re going to spoil him.”

“That’s the plan,” I repeat with a grin.

She kisses me before heading back inside, and I linger on the porch for another moment, savoring the sunrise. Then I follow her in, rolling up my sleeves as I head to the kitchen.

By the time Bradley thunders down the stairs, I’ve got a stack of pancakes waiting and bacon sizzling in the pan.

“Morning, champ,” I say as he slides into his chair at the table.

“Morning!” he chirps, already reaching for the syrup. At eight years old, he’s all energy and appetite. “Mom says we’re having a special dinner tonight.”

“That’s right,” I say, flipping more pancakes. “One year since I came back to stay.”

“Best day ever,” he declares with the certainty only a child can muster, and my chest tightens with emotion.

Carly joins us, dressed for the day in jeans and one of my old button-ups that she’s claimed as her own. As we eat, Bradley chatters about his first week back at school and the science project he’s working on — something about local ecosystems that he’s passionate about.

“…and then we’re going to put it all on a big poster board with pictures of all the animals that live here,” he explains between bites.

“Sounds impressive,” I tell him. “Need any help with it?”

His face lights up. “Can we take pictures of the horses and goats this weekend?”

“Absolutely.”

After breakfast, we pile into my truck — the same one I bought when I first came to Miralena, now with a year’s worth of dirt and memories accumulated.

The drive to Bradley’s school takes less than ten minutes, with lots of winding through the small town that now feels more familiar than Houston ever did.

“Don’t forget,” Carly reminds him as he hops out, backpack in tow. “Ferris is picking you up today.”

“I know, Mom!” he calls back, already running toward a group of friends.

We watch until he disappears inside the building, and then I take Carly’s hand as I pull back onto the road.

“Next stop?” I ask.

“The feed store, then we need to check on the new calf. Miles said she wasn’t looking great yesterday.”

Miles has stayed on as our second ranch hand, joined by two other full-timers and a college kid who works weekends during the school year.

Between the six of us, we keep the ranch running smoothly.

Business is good. Carly’s idea to expand into hosting events has taken off, with weddings booked through next summer.

The day passes in the rhythm we’ve established over the past year. Hard work under the sun, breaks in the shade of the old oak tree, stolen kisses when our employees aren’t looking. It’s not the life I imagined for myself, but it’s better than anything I could have dreamed up.

By late afternoon, we’ve finished the essential tasks. Carly heads inside to shower while I check in with Miles about tomorrow’s schedule.

“Got everything handled for tonight?” he asks with a knowing smile as we finish up.

“I think so,” I reply, nervousness suddenly bubbling up.

“You’ll be here at six?”

“On the dot. Don’t worry, boss. It’ll be perfect.”

I hope he’s right. I’ve been planning this for months, wanting everything to be just so.

Back at the house, I shower quickly and change into the one dress shirt I kept when I purged my Houston wardrobe. As I fasten my watch, Carly walks in wearing a sundress I haven’t seen before. Her hair falls in soft waves around her shoulders, and she’s put on a touch of makeup.

“Wow,” I breathe. “You look incredible.”

A blush colors her cheeks. “It’s just a dress. Ferris convinced me to buy it when we went shopping last month.”

“Remind me to thank her.” I step closer, sliding my hands around her waist. “You’re beautiful.”

She rises on her tiptoes to kiss me, her fingers threading through my hair. “You’re not so bad yourself, city boy.”

I grin at the nickname that’s stuck despite my complete transformation into a rancher. “Ready for dinner?”

“Starving. What’s the plan exactly?”

“You’ll see,” I say, taking her hand and leading her downstairs and out the back door.

The sun is beginning its descent, casting long golden rays across the property. I guide her toward the stables, where a path of wildflowers leads around the corner.

“Oliver,” she gasps as we turn and see what’s waiting. “What is all this?”

The small clearing behind the stables has been transformed.

Strings of fairy lights hang from the surrounding trees, a table set for seven at the center, and Mason jars filled with more wildflowers create a pathway leading to it.

Miles is tending to a small fire pit nearby, where steaks are grilling.

“Happy anniversary,” I say softly.

“You did all this?” Her eyes shine with emotion.

“I had some help,” I admit. “Miles, Ferris, your mom…”

“Mom knows about this?”

As if on cue, a truck pulls up the driveway. Moments later, Bradley comes racing around the corner, Ferris and Carly’s mom and aunt following at a more sedate pace.

“Surprise!” Bradley shouts, launching himself at Carly. “Do you like it? I helped pick the flowers!”

“I love it, buddy,” she says, hugging him tight. “It’s beautiful.”

Carly’s mom embraces her, then me. “Everything ready?” she whispers in my ear.

I nod, patting my pocket where the ring box sits. “Perfect timing.”

Dinner is a joyous affair. The food is delicious, and the company is even better. As we finish dessert — an apple pie Ferris brought — I catch Bradley’s eye and give him a small nod. We’ve rehearsed this part.

He stands up importantly. “Mom, Oliver and I have something for you.”

Carly looks between us, curiosity written across her face. “Oh?”

Bradley reaches into his pocket and pulls out a folded piece of paper. With great ceremony, he hands it to his mother.

“Read it out loud,” he instructs.

Carly unfolds it carefully. “‘Reasons Why We Love You’” she reads, her voice already thick with emotion. “‘One: You make the best pancakes. Two: You always know how to make us feel better when we’re sad. Three: You work harder than anyone we know…’”

The list continues, alternating between Bradley’s observations and my own additions. By the end, tears are streaming down Carly’s face.

“There’s one more thing,” I say softly, standing up and moving to kneel beside her chair.

Her eyes widen as I take her hand in mine. Behind her, her mom has her phone out, recording the moment.

“Carly,” I begin, my voice steady despite the pounding of my heart. “A year ago today, I came back to this ranch because I realized something important — that success means nothing without someone to share it with. You and Bradley have taught me what really matters in life.”

I pull the small velvet box from my pocket and open it to reveal a platinum ring with a diamond surrounded by emeralds that match her eyes.

“You’ve made me happier than I ever thought possible. Every day with you is an adventure, and I want those adventures to continue for the rest of our lives.” I take a deep breath. “Carly Holloway, will you marry me?”

Time seems to stand still as I wait for her answer. Then, with tears in her eyes and the biggest smile I’ve ever seen, she nods.

“Yes,” she whispers, then louder, “Yes!”

Bradley lets out a whoop as I slide the ring onto Carly’s finger. Then she’s in my arms, kissing me as everyone around us applauds.

“I love you,” she murmurs against my lips.

“I love you too,” I reply, holding her close. “Both of you,” I add, reaching out to pull Bradley into our embrace.

As the three of us stand here, wrapped in each other’s arms with the sunset painting the sky in brilliant colors behind us, I know with absolute certainty that I’m exactly where I’m meant to be.

The journey from that panicked CEO in a Houston high-rise to this man — a rancher, a partner, a father figure — wasn’t one I ever planned. But standing here now, holding my future in my arms, I wouldn’t change a single step that led me here.

This is what happiness feels like. This is what home can be.

This is what it means to finally, truly live.

The End