Winning the Cowboy Billionaire - Emmy Eugene Page 0,54
the few sentences she’d given him were not enough.
She’d made him spill his guts and confess his feelings for her. She’d never done that, and Spur had never needed her to. Until now.
He started after her, his long legs eating up the distance between them. “Olli,” he called, and she spun back to him near her car.
“I don’t know what else you want me to say,” she said. “I am trying to expand my business, and I know how to do it. I got testers with my candles. Every scent I put out goes through a panel.”
“I don’t care about that,” he said.
“What do you care about, Spur?”
“When I screwed up, I sat on your steps and told you exactly how I feel about you. You have never done that for me.”
“This is about me having men over to do a panel on the colognes,” she said. “I didn’t tell anyone that we were just friends.”
“How do you feel about me?” he asked.
Olli threw her hands up in the air. “Right now, I feel like I never want to see you again.”
Spur started nodding. “Bad time to talk. All right. Go.”
Olli’s chest lifted and fell as she breathed heavily.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said, his heart cracking because he didn’t have the courage to end things with her. He’d started to fall for her last week while they danced the waltz, when she’d sang along with the country music at the concert, and when she brought him coffee while he replanted her lost flowers.
He’d fallen in love with her while she’d made cookies, burned her candles, and started studying to learn everything she could about Frank Renlund and Renlund United.
He fell in love with her a little bit more every time he looked into her eyes.
She cleared her throat. “I don’t need you to come tomorrow.”
Spur scoffed, because now she was just being ridiculous. “You said two o’clock, right?”
She shook her head. “I think it’s stupid that I even need a boyfriend to get this grant, and I’m going to get it on my own.” She nodded like that was that and pulled open her car’s door.
“Are you breaking up with me?” he asked. “Or you just don’t want me to come over tomorrow?”
“I’m going to tell Frank Renlund that I am a good businesswoman who provides amazing products for families—and I don’t need a man to help me with it.”
Spur just needed a yes or a no.
“I think it would be best if we did break-up,” she said. “Then I won’t be lying to him when I say I can—and have been—running my business boyfriend-free just fine, thank you very much.”
Spur felt like he’d been struck dumb. No thoughts moved through his mind, and he didn’t have anything to say to that.
“Thank you for your help with the colognes,” she said. “I always appreciate my testers.” She got in the car, settled her sunglasses on her face, and backed away from him.
He stood there and watched her car kick up dust as she went down the lane that led to the road. He watched her turn right and head back to her place. He watched the breeze blow through the trees in the front yard when he could no longer see Olli’s car.
“Tester?” he asked, his brain finally catching up to what she’d said.
He wasn’t exactly sure how long he stood there, but he managed to turn his head when Blaine said, “Spur?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s starting to get dark. Come inside.” Blaine touched his shoulder, and that got Spur to move. He followed his brother inside, and the TV blared too loud. It annoyed Spur, and he glared at his brothers in the living room. They all talked over the show, and he wished they’d been born with quieter voices.
He pulled a bowl from the cupboard and filled it with his favorite cereal.
“Spur,” Blaine said.
“I’m fine,” Spur said. He got the milk out and poured plenty over the sugary puffs. “Really.” He looked at Blaine, who wore concern in his eyes. “Go back to Tam. It’s fine. I’m fine.” He grabbed a spoon and took his dinner down the hall to his bedroom.
He had everything he needed here, and he wouldn’t have to face anyone until morning. He ate his cereal and put on his horse rescue show. His fingers automatically moved to his knitting, and all he could think about was Olli as his hands moved through the stitches.
Nothing could sufficiently distract him tonight, though, and he set aside the