Only Forever With A Billionaire (Only Us Billionaire Romance Book 3)

by Ellie Hall

  Her entire world exploded, erupted in the best possible way.

  Burdens splintered.

  Troubles shattered.

  In their place was astonishment, awe.

  His hands tangled in her hair and with a flat palm placed on her back, he pulled her closer, chest to chest. Her hands moved up his back and around to his strong shoulders.

  Their lips moved in sync as the kiss deepened.

  After a time, he smiled against her mouth, which made her smile inside. They made each other happy and she couldn’t think of anything wrong with that other than it wasn’t forever. She returned his kiss with fervor, trying to tap into the infinite even though she knew it wouldn’t last. Good things seldom did. Sydney used to tease her about her fear that the other shoe was always bound to drop if she let down her guard.

  When they finally pulled apart there was a roughness in his eyes that she couldn’t place, but his body told another story as he pulled her close, his arms conforming around her as if promising not to let her go. But she knew all too well the body and mind didn’t always agree on matters of the heart. For that moment, it was clear they both enjoyed the moment together.

  “That just happened,” Wyatt said as though catching his breath.

  “It did.”

  She was worried he was going to ask now what? She didn’t have an answer. She didn’t know what came next for them. Were her days at the ranch just another one of his flings? They lived in different countries. Had different lives. She couldn’t deny her feelings for him. She wanted more than a throwaway few days. She also wanted another kiss.

  The wildflowers were beautiful and reminded her of what Sydney said in his message about a single seed, pressing through the soil toward the sun. The clouds filling her mind darkened and started dropping fat raindrops that turned into hail, bombarding her thoughts even though the sky above remained clear.

  Wyatt set out the lunch he’d brought and they ate, sticking to safe topics of conversation as she tried not to think about what would follow—a storm of emotions. A blizzard of pain when they finally said goodbye.

  Before they got back in the saddles, he wrapped his arms around her after pecking her forehead and then nuzzling her close. He wasn’t helping her situation. Why get close when they were going to be torn apart? The storm in her mind threatened to spill over and cause real tears and she didn’t want him to see her cry.

  As they rode back to the barn, a truck towing a trailer cruised toward the gate to the ranch.

  He said, “Great timing. I have a surprise for you.”

  Once they dismounted and left the horses for Norm to clean up, they went to a stable at the far end of the barn. The vet that had been present for Spearmint was there evaluating a dappled gray pony. Her head drooped low and she snorted a few times.

  Charlotte hung back, sensing the animal was nervous, uncertain. She could relate.

  Wyatt circled so the mare had a full view of him then positioned himself at a safe distance. In place of the intensity in his expression just minutes ago, his face was soft, open. He met the pony’s gaze briefly and tipped his head down slightly. “Hello,” he said almost so low Charlotte didn’t hear him.

  The pony’s ears were pinned against her head and Charlotte took it to be a warning. The animal’s nostrils flared and her muscles tensed.

  Wyatt took one step back and held his hands, palms open in front of him in a calm, unthreatening way as he inched around to approach her from the side.

  He stood close, his posture calm, and muttered soothing words under his breath, almost like he was humming a tune.

  The pony flicked her ears.

  “That’s a girl,” he said, stepping closer but still not touching her.

  They followed that dance for the next half hour with Wyatt, a calm and steady presence, easing into his approach and backing off to let her know he meant no harm and she could trust him.

  Charlotte watched in fascination as the giant of a man was gentle with a beast who’d clearly been abused. At last, he laid his hands on her withers, moving to her shoulder, then her neck, slowly and firmly yet gently. He crooned, “Dusty Rose,” and actually started singing a country song to the pony.

  Charlotte’s eyebrows lifted.

  The pony’s muscles relaxed as his voice soothed the creature. Much in the same way his lips had done to her. Charlotte shivered. Wyatt was a special man. It was too bad he couldn’t be her man. She hung in a strange place of enjoying the magical moments she spent with him while knowing it would be over all too soon.

  Norm sidled up beside Charlotte, smelling every bit like he spent all day with horses. “That Dusty Rose is one lucky lady. Wyatt flew her first class all the way over from your neck of the woods. Said she came from a traveling carnival.”

  “What?” Charlotte said, piecing things together. “That’s the pony Birdie wanted to ride.”

  “And the one, unfortunately, that was abused, worked too hard, and malnourished. You can see her trust was broken and—” Norm’s voice faded as Charlotte fought against rushing up to Wyatt and wrapping her arms around him in a hug. He’d rescued the animal.

  The older man’s voice floated back to her. “You know he’s a lawyer, right? He works with an organization to put into place laws to protect horses and for consumer awareness. There’s no reason, by my reckoning, that event organizers should hire people like the owner of this horse. You can be darn sure he’s backing a lawsuit against that fellow and plenty of others.” Norm continued, outlining all the work Wyatt did to protect horses. It brought to mind everything her friend Jennifer who managed the animal shelter did for dogs.

  Wyatt waved at them and then sauntered over. “Well, we have a lot of work ahead of us. The behaviorist will be by soon. She’ll have a better life here.”

  “Wyatt, I feel silly not realizing this sooner. You have a horse sanctuary here.”

  He nodded as though it was plain as day.

  Norm clapped him on the shoulder. “He takes animals that were injured, abused, or neglected and gives them a better life. It’s honorable work.”

  “I’ll say. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “Because he’s too humble for his own good,” Norm answered for Wyatt.

  Just then a young man with a beaming smile approached. “I see you got her settled in alright. I’m sorry I’m late.”

  Wyatt shook the man’s hand. “This is John Kemp. He works with the horses when they first arrive after the vet assesses any health issues.”

  “He’s the behaviorist,” Norm said. “And don’t you worry about being late. Congratulations on becoming a father.” Norm wrapped the younger man in a hug as he slapped him on the back.

  They talked about his new baby and Charlotte was overcome with a sense of missing Birdie.

  “I almost forgot. I got something for the Mrs. And you. It’s in the truck,” Wyatt said, before hurrying off to grab it. As he exited the barn and rounded the corner, a sharp yell came from outside.

  Dusty Rose neighed. The vet, still working with her, instantly soothed her.

  The others rushed out to see about Wyatt.

  He stood, almost doubled over. “I’m fine. Just turned my ankle. Those darn pocket gophers.”

  The hole he must’ve stepped in wasn’t deep, but grass and dirt had fallen into it, camouflaging it.

  “Ah, it’s nothing major. You’ll just need to stay off it a day or two,” Norm said.

  “No, I’m fine.”

  Norm looked at him from under his bushy eyebrows. “Your granddad would tell you to go get some ice and sit your butt in a chair.”

  “Alright, alright,” Wyatt said, smirking. “You’re right.”

  “I know it and like to hear that from time to time,” Norm said around a laugh. Then he ambled over to the truck to get the gift for John.

  Charlotte wrapped one arm around Wyatt’s waist as he leaned on her and hobbled toward the house.

  “Luckily, we don’t have far to go,” he groa
ned.

  When he slouched down into his grandfather’s chair and kicked off his boot, the swelling had already started. He reclined with his foot elevated. She brought him ice, aspirin, and sparkling water to wash it down.

  He remained quiet, probably trying to ignore the pain as she leaned against the counter, not sure what to think about their kiss, his kindness with the horse, or how he had no furniture.

  His phone was on the counter next to a stack of papers. She thumbed through them until she found a card with the interior designer’s information.

  “Is there anything else I can get you?” she asked.

  “No, thank you though. I’m going to doze here and try not to think about what an idiot I am for not watching where I was going. Though, I suppose, it’s better my ankle than a horse’s. It’s happened to me before and I reckon it’ll happen again. I should be fine tomorrow.”

  Charlotte slipped the card into her hand and disappeared to her room.

  After making the call and explaining the situation, she worked with the designer in making furniture selections online and was assured they could have the living room delivered on short notice.

  Pleased that she did something nice for Wyatt, she returned to the living room where she found him standing at the counter, texting on his phone.

  “Back in the chair,” she ordered.

  Wyatt smirked. “Alright, Doctor Wheaton. Sheesh.”

  “Do you want it to heal or not?”

  “Are you this harsh to all your patients?”

  “No, the few times that Birdie’s gotten hurt, I was a wreck, waiting on her hand and foot.”

  “I wouldn’t mind that or, you know, if you wanted to come over here and we could pick up where we left off in the meadow.”

  Charlotte was close enough for him to extend a long arm, lasso her legs, and pull her down into his lap. She collapsed onto him with a squeal of laughter at the same moment their eyes locked.

  Chapter 20

  Wyatt

  Wyatt had hardly been able to focus on anything that afternoon as the kiss from the meadow had captured his senses entirely. Probably why he thought he was walking on clouds instead of uneven ground riddled with gopher holes. He’d only recently gotten his wits back and was about to lose them again as he sat in his granddad’s old chair in the middle of the otherwise empty living room with an aching ankle and the girl of his dreams in his lap. Her legs hung over the arm of the chair like she was sidesaddle.

  He moved in for a peck on the lips then another and another.

  She wore a grin the size of Texas as if she couldn’t help herself.

  His mouth quirked.

  Her eyes dipped closed.

  He let a rough growl of longing escape from his throat.

  She gripped the sides of his face, drawing him closer.

  He tilted his head to the right.

  She did the same.

  Their mouths crashed together in one, long, explosive kiss. Heat built between them.

  All he could think about was how he wanted more of her: her time, her laugh, her attention, her insights. All of her. She wanted forever and he didn’t have that to give.

  The kiss deepened then eased, and much like him showing Dusty Rose she could trust him, Charlotte and Wyatt did a similar dance, testing preferences, intensity, gauging what the other responded to as their pulses thundered like hooves across the fields.

  When they were both fully out of breath, they parted.

  She asked if he needed anything for his ankle and even if he had he would’ve said no anyway. He didn’t want her to get up. Her warm weight anchored him to the spot, kept him from seeking escape or when things got tough, as he so often had.

  They gazed out the window as the sun lowered toward the hills.

  “That’s really amazing what you did with Dusty Rose. Birdie and I thank you.”

  “I’m hoping they can meet someday under better circumstances.”

  “I’m sure she’d love that.” Charlotte’s gaze remained fixed on the distance and she bit the inside of her lip. “That’s exciting about your friend John and his new family.”

  “Oh, it’s not his first, I think they’re on kid number four.”

  She stiffened a bit. “I always wanted a big family or at least a sibling for Birdie.”

  When he didn’t say anything, she pressed to standing. She paced toward the kitchen and then back. “When we were at the wedding, I heard you talking to Leo Simpson. You said you didn’t think you were the settling down, family man type.”

  “Darlin' I don't know what I want anymore other than my darn ankle to feel better.” And you. I want you.

  She wrung her hands and pressed her lips together as though resisting the urge to say more.

  He was glad of it too, he didn’t want to have that conversation when he could hardly think straight, still punch drunk from the kiss and his ankle distracting him. Things were changing inside of him and he wasn’t sure he was ready for it or how to deal with it. So he did what he so often did and ignored it.

  A knock sounded on the door. That, he couldn’t ignore.

  Charlotte sighed and muttered something about perfect timing. “Don’t move a muscle. I’ll get the door.”

  A second voice joined Charlotte’s followed by shuffling and a few grunts. Wyatt was about to get up and find out what was going on when the designer he’d hired months before entered, with Charlotte in tow. A few men with furniture in hand moved into the living room.

  “Don’t get yourself all worked up. I talked to Kim and we went over what the two of you already discussed. If you hate any of it, we can send it back.” Charlotte held back a smile.

  “Hi, Wyatt,” Kim said. She was a woman in her fifties with sharp eyes that were both no-nonsense and keen for style and the use of space. “You were supposed to call and confirm your order with me two weeks ago. Shh. I know, you were busy.”

  “The wedding, travel, and then company.”

  “I can see that. Well, now that you’re laid up, I suppose you’ll need someplace to sit other than that ratty old chair.”

  “The chair stays.”

  “Wyatt, I understand it was your granddad’s, but—” Charlotte started.

  He was attached to the chair, literally at that moment because of his ankle. “It’s all I have left—”

  Her hands flew to her hips. “You have the entire ranch, your memories, and a hand pie recipe I’d like to get my hands on.”

  “I like her,” Kim said, signaling to the movers. “Bring it in and bring this thing, out.” She gestured to the chair.

  “Then you’ll take me with it.”

  “Can we move it somewhere else?” Charlotte tried.

  “Funny that you should talk. I’ve been to your house and see what you haven’t been able to part with—everything.”

  “It’s different.” She pouted.

  “It’s not.”

  “Okay, enough. I don’t want to be in the middle of this lovers’ quarrel.” Kim surveyed the room.

  Charlotte and Wyatt’s eyes widened, their arms crossed in front of their chests, and they both looked away.

  “I’m on a tight schedule. I only fit you in as a favor because Charlotte here charmed me with that accent of hers.”

  “You and the entire state of Texas,” Wyatt muttered.

  Charlotte grunted.

  “Wyatt, I understand the sentimentality, but the chair doesn’t fit with the new design. Maybe it would be better suited for the barn, for instance.”

  Quite unexpectedly, laughter rolled through Wyatt. He couldn’t contain it despite how it made his ankle smart.

  “What’s so funny?” Charlotte asked.

  “Actually, I brought it in from the barn. I’m not entirely sure this was my granddad’s. I just assumed. Okay, okay. We’ll move it back out to the barn. Norm will appreciate it.”

  “Really?” Charlotte asked.

  He got heavily to his feet. “Really. Thank you for doing this fo
r me. I’m not going to make a stink.”

  The movers brought in a long L-shaped couch, a pair of end tables, lamps, a coffee table made of distressed wood. Another pair of chairs were positioned opposite the couch. All of the seating was perfectly arranged around the large stone hearth.

  Charlotte and Kim came in with throw pillows, accents, and a coffee table book filled with interior design inspirations. She set it on the table. “For when you decide to finish decorating the rest of the house,” Kim said.

  Wyatt looked to Charlotte. “Can I leave that up to you?” The question carried weight and he didn’t know how it would work with the two of them living worlds apart, but he hoped she’d say yes.

  Instead, she folded her arms in front of her chest. “I’m surprised you’d ask me, considering you know what my house looks like.” Her eyebrow shot up fiercely.

  He couldn’t tear his gaze from her sterling eyes. He wanted to kiss those pouty lips again.

  “Okay, you two, my work here is done. I recommend you figure out that you’re in love and do something about it because the tension in here is thick enough to cut with a knife.”

  Kim and the movers exited, leaving Wyatt and Charlotte in loaded silence. It was the kind where they’d kiss and make up or allow the uncomfortable quiet to stretch into days—like when his parents were still together. They were exceptionally skilled at giving each other the silent treatment. However, he and Charlotte didn’t have that long. She was slated to leave the day after next.

  “I’m sorry about what I said,” Wyatt started. “And thank you for doing this. It was really sweet.”

  “Apology accepted. Do you like it?”

  “Considering I was the one who picked most of it out, the better question is do you like it? My taste is mostly in my mouth.”