Page 24 of Taming the Billionaire Cowboy
“We’re leaving in five minutes!” I call out to Bradley.
“Okay!” he shouts back, and I can hear the excitement in his voice.
He loves this music camp, which he went to last year. Since I can only afford one week of it per summer, it’s a special treat for him, a break from hanging out with his grandma (though he does love her).
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and immediately my mind goes to Oliver. Is he texting to give me some sort of heads-up about today?
An image from yesterday, which hasn’t been far from my mind, revives itself. He was carrying a kid goat across the field, bicepspopping and hair shining in the sun. Watching him, I felt like I might melt right then and there.
I need to be careful, though. A crush on a boss is a disaster waiting to happen, and I don’t want to lose my job at the ranch a second time.
Taking a deep breath, I pull my phone from my pocket and find a text from the camp provider. A quick glance at it and my stomach drops.
“We’re going now?” Bradley says from behind me, and I turn around to find him standing in the doorway wearing his rain boots, a camo hat with a mosquito net over it, and his plastic binoculars hanging around his neck. He looks prepared for anything, and it kills me.
“Buddy, I’m sorry, but a water pipe burst at camp. There’s water all over the floor, so camp is canceled today.”
He blinks, trying to comprehend the situation. “Oh. For the whole day?”
“Yeah. For the whole day.” I chew my bottom lip. Shoot. What am I gonna do with him now?
I have to get to work, but Ferris is working her shift at the hospital and can’t watch him, and my mom and aunt are out of town doing a supply run for the bar, and they won’t be back till this afternoon.
“You’ll need to come to work with me,” I tell him.
He immediately lights up. “Okay! I’ll go get Rusty the picture I drew for him!”
He dashes into his room, and I add his lunchbox to my backpack with my own. This wasn’t part of the plan, but if I’m good at anything, it’s pivoting.
He comes back wearing his normal shoes, which I appreciate. The ranch is not exactly the easiest place to move around in rain boots.
“Let’s go!” he says and grabs his bag of colored pencils. But as we’re about to leave, he says, “Wait! I almost forgot.”
Without further explanation, he rushes back into his room and reemerges with last night’s masterpiece. He stayed up last night coloring the picture of Rusty, the friendliest horse at the ranch. In the picture, Rusty is purple. Bradley insists it’s his favorite color, even though we have no way of knowing that.
“Got it,” he announces dramatically, holding up the folded paper like it’s a trophy.
I smile at him and try not to worry about Oliver’s reaction when I show up with a six-year-old in tow. Will he be mad? I mean, it’s not like I had much of a choice.
At the ranch, Bradley can’t contain his excitement. He dashes around the stables, checking everything out and saying hi to the animals.
“Remember the first rule,” I tell him.
“Stay where I can see you.”
“And the second rule?”
“Don’t go into animals’ pens.”
Oliver is making his way out of the house when he spots us, a look of surprise crossing his face. I stand a little taller, feeling like I’m about to have to present my case and hating that fact.
“You brought a friend,” Oliver says, kneeling down to Bradley’s level.
“This is my son, Bradley. Bradley, this is Mr. Greer.”
Oliver glances at me but then quickly hides his shock. “Nice to meet you, Bradley. You can call me Oliver.”
Bradley nods shyly before gluing himself to my leg.
