Page 49 of Taming the Billionaire Cowboy
I smirk at him. “That’s for him to know and us to find out.”
Before Oliver can respond, I hear a chorus of surprise cheers from across the yard. When I turn around, I see Bradley standing over a fallen piñata, fists full of candy, and a wide grin on his face. The crowd around him starts clapping, and he bows like a famous performer on stage.
Oliver rests a hand on my lower back as we walk over to where the kids are gathering around the spilled piñata treats. “Hey, champ!” he says. “That was one impressive swing.”
Bradley beams brighter than ever, his cheeks flushed with exertion and excitement. “Really?”
“Absolutely. You showed that piñata who’s boss.”
With an excited nod, he stuffs a few more pieces of candy into his already overflowing bag. “Can we go open presents now, Mom?”
“Sure, bud. Just let me grab them from the house.”
“Can I help?” Oliver offers, already following me towards the front door, the small smile on his lips making my heart flutter.
“Of course.”
Together, we round up the brightly wrapped gifts overflowing from my mom’s guest room and haul them to a picnic table under a striped umbrella.
Bradley’s eyes go wide as he spots us coming back, his little legs sprinting over to help. “I didn’t think there’d be so many!”
“You have a lot of people who care about you,” I say, watching as his little fingers begin to eagerly tear into the paper of the first gift.
For what must be an hour, Bradley opens gifts. Each one is accompanied by a corresponding reaction: shocks of delight, surprised giggles, an occasional whoop. Oliver and I sit back and watch, his arm draped effortlessly over my shoulder, pulling me into him.
Time seems to stretch out before us — the bright light of the sun slowly softening into late afternoon warmth, the sounds of laughter and chatter surrounding us, my boy gleefully absorbed in his haul.
Presents turn into cake, which turns into water gun fights. By the end of it all, with the guests trickling out, Bradley is exhausted, leaning into me as we bid our last guests goodbye.
“You go,” my mom says, waving me away when I try to pick up discarded paper plates. “Gina and I got this.”
“Mom—”
“Get Bradley home.” She kisses my cheek. “He’s about to hit a second wind.”
“Yikes,” I mumble, already knowing I don’t want that. If he gets to that point, he’ll be bouncing off the walls until midnight.
“I’ll stay and help clean,” Oliver tells me, but my mom waves him away as well, pointing out that since we drove here together, he should head out with us.
“Best birthday ever,” Bradley mumbles as I pick him up to carry him to the truck.
Back at my house, it’s quiet. The kind of quiet I used to dread, but now it feels like space, like room for everything we need.
It feels like a chance.
I get Bradley through a quick bath and teeth-brushing, then to his room. He’s half asleep already, and I’m afraid he’ll fully wake up when I set him down.
“Mom?” Bradley mumbles, already drifting off.
“Yeah, sweetie?” I bend down next to his twin bed with the elephant comforter and giraffe sheets.
“Where’s… where’s Oliver?”
“He’s in the kitchen,” I whisper.
“I had the best time ever,” he says, his voice thick with sleep. “And I made a wish when I blowed out the candles.”
“What did you wish for?” I ask, stroking his hair.
