Page 8 of Taming the Billionaire Cowboy
“Three?”
“Three. Experienced. And you’ve been here, what, an hour?”
His laugh is easy, like I’m joking and not actually worried. “Do you doubt me? With all the progress I’ve made today?”
“Oh yeah, look at all you’ve accomplished,” I say. “Figured out what a horse looks like. Discovered red chickens. It’s a wonder you haven’t passed out from the hard work yet. Look… just follow the instructions, okay? I wrote everything down. It’s all in the kitchen. And if you have any questions, text me.”
We walk back toward the house, and I wonder if maybe there’s more to him than I thought at first. He hasn’t given up yet, and maybe he never does, and that’s a good trait. It gives me a little hope that he’ll make it after all, though I can’t say I’m not still worried.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around?” I ask, knowing he needs it, but also knowing I can’t give free labor away. Not with bills to pay and a kid to care for. “I’ve got some time.”
Really, I don’t have time. I need to get to Mom’s before Bradley thinks I’ve forgotten him. But Oliver doesn’t need to know that, and maybe I need to hear from him again that he’s up for this, that it’s not just a whim he’ll abandon once he realizes what a load of work he’s signed up for.
“You said three people managed this place before, right?” he says, a little smug. “I’ll make sure one can do the job just fine.”
I give him a hard look, like I can scold some sense into him that way. “You’ll be flat on your back in a week.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he says, flashing a grin that’s probably caught its fair share of girls.
It’s infuriating how he’s so sure everything will work out for him. He’s been running this place for less than a day, and he’s already got himself figured as king of the ranch. I don’t know whether to admire him or shake him.
“This isn’t a company takeover,” I say. “These animals don’t care about your resume. They care about being fed, watered, kept warm in the winter and cool in the summer. Kept safe from coyotes and thieves. Every single day.”
He nods, listening, or maybe just waiting until I run out of breath. “It’ll be hard,” he says, and I see in his eyes that he doesn’t have a clue what that even means.
“Good,” I tell him. “I don’t want you thinking it’s anything but.”
He shifts, and I’m not sure if he’s considering what I’ve said or just trying to hide a smirk. Either way, it drives me nuts how little he seems to be taking this seriously. And maybe it drives me nuts how much it makes me want to laugh, too, how impossibly sure of himself he is, how even though he’s all wrong for this place, he still thinks it belongs to him.
He meets my eyes, and it’s like I’m the one not taking it seriously enough. “I’m ready, Carly. I don’t take on things I can’t handle.”
I don’t know how he makes it sound like he’s the one doing me the favor here. Not even knowing what to say, I cross my arms and stare him down. He just stares right back.
I should have left ten minutes ago. Fifteen. But I stand here anyway, unable to pull myself away. The sun’s almost down now, painting everything gold, and there’s something in the way he looks, almost wistful. As if he’s already dreaming up his next big project, and this ranch is just the start of it.
“Well, it was nice meeting you, Mr. CEO,” I say when we get back to the gate. I keep my voice bright. “Give me a call if you’re planning on burning the place down.”
His eyes flicker, but he doesn’t miss a beat. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Having to come to the rescue?”
“Of course not.” I fish around in my pocket for the scrap of paper I wrote my number on and press it into his hand. “I’d hate for anything to happen to these animals. Even if it meant you needed me to save you.”
“I’ll take care of them. Don’t worry.”
I want to believe him. I want it enough to turn my head back when I’m a good ten steps away, just to check if he looks nervous yet. But he’s standing there, exactly where I left him, still as determined and still as stupidly handsome.
CHAPTER 5
OLIVER
The to-do list feels like it weighs more than the luggage I brought in. Carly made it extra detailed, probably so she can enjoy laughing when I manage to screw up anyway.
Ten horses. Twenty-something chickens. Seven goats. Eleven sheep. Eight cats. Four cows. How hard can it be?
It takes me ten minutes to find the chicken feed, but the chickens seem forgiving enough. The goats, however, start gnawing at my pants the moment I step foot in their pen. I’m still trying to figure out how to navigate that situation without losing a chunk of my calf, when I hear the horses whinnying in the barn. Carly must have tipped them off to the fact that I’m new in town, because they look entirely unimpressed.
The day stretches into the night, and by the time I have all the animals fed, I’m drenched and exhausted. But there’s something about the task that feels satisfactory. Carly’s smirk flickers in my mind every time I think about taking a break, and the thought of her saying “I told you so” pushes me past my limits.
Sweat clings to every inch of me as I stumble back toward the house. It feels miles away, and each step is heavier and more exhausting than the last. The thought of a shower keeps me moving, even if it’s a weak incentive. If I were back in Houston, I’d have an ice-cold beer in hand already, possibly served by someone who isn’t so quick to judge my competency.
