Page 107 of Dallas Rivals

“Sure,” he says. His chair hums after me as we head for the living room. I’m about to sit when I find one of Mila’s little toys buried in the cushions. I smile, remembering how she was playing with it just a few hours ago.

“Someone’s gonna be in a real bad mood when she realizes her favorite toy’s missing,” I say, setting it on the coffee table.

Lucien smiles and angles his chair toward the fireplace.

“Your nieces and nephews are wonderful.”

“I know,” I answer, still smiling. “I’m lucky to be their uncle.”

We sit in a short, heavy silence. I wonder if he already knows what I’m about to say.

“What is it, Oliver? Is this about Cala’s job?” he asks, bracing his forearms on the arms of the chair.

“It’s not about her performance. It’s about her.” I meet his eyes. I lean back into the couch and draw a slow breath. “You’re not blind, Lucien. All these years of friendship earned us enough honesty to face this head-on.”

Lucien looks away, swallowing hard.

“Oliver, think really careful about what you’re doing.”

“I love her.”

His tired, weathered eyes snap back to mine. I hadn’t realized how much they look like hers. “What?”

“I wouldn’t be having this conversation if I didn’t mean it,” I say, steady but firm. “She’s important to me, Lucien. I want her to be part of my life, freely. I’m not asking for your approval, and I’m sure as hell not gonna spend my days dealing with disapproving looks or quiet judgment. She’s mine, and I’m hers. I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted to hear, but it doesn’t change a damn thing. My mind’s made up.”

He leans forward, elbows on his knees, and lets out a long breath that seems to empty his lungs. He looks stunned, lost even.

“But… we can’t—Oliver, we don’t have the means to leave this place if this… thing between you two fades,” he says, his voice uncertain.

Fades? The thought of what we have fading seems almost absurd now. Maybe in those early days, when every emotion she stirred up in me felt tangled and raw, there was a time I could have believed it. Back then, I told myself the irritation was all I felt for her, that I resented how easily she unsettled me. But the truth is, I never hated her—not for a second. What unsettled me was how she made me vulnerable, how she got past every defense I’d built. Now, what’s between us is something deeper, something lasting. It’s real—so real that I can’t imagine stopping until she’s my wife.

“It’s not a phase,” I say quietly, holding his gaze with unwavering resolve. “I love her. And I don’t say those words lightly. No matter what the future brings, my promise to all of you still stands. This ranch, this home, this life—none of that changes. You’ll always have that security, and nothing between Cala and me will ever threaten what we’ve built here together.”

Lucien shakes his head slowly, absorbing the weight of my words as he tries to come to terms with what I’ve just told him.

“Does she… know?”

“She does,” I answer without hesitation. “She loves me too.”

The admission makes him sit up straighter, surprise etched across his features. In all those moments I thought he might have noticed—the subtle glances, the brief touches we tried to hide—he hadn’t seen any of it. Realizing that stings a little; it’s a reminder that while I agonized over every secret look, Lucien was too wrapped up in his own troubles to see what was happening right in front of him. That realization brings a pang of guilt.

“I’m not asking for permission for her hand. I just want my friend to be happy for me—for us. Because for the first time in my life, I’ve found a woman who fills me up, who steadies me, who makes me damn happy. You get that, Lucien? You understand how hard it was for me to admit it?”

He nods once, slow and deliberate.

“I’m happy for you both,” he says, clearing his throat like the words burn on the way out.

“Thank you.”

Cautiously, I reach out and pull him into a hug. He returns it, firm and genuine, and for the first time in a long while, the tightness in my chest begins to lift.

Cala’s harvesting when she spots me walking toward her, purpose written all over my face. Her dark eyes narrow in alert, the way they always do when she knows I’m up to something. Her hair’s pulled back into a long black braid, and that matching hat shadows her face just enough to drive me crazy.

Her mother and Eliza are nearby, and I can see the panic flash across her features when she glances at them.

“What—?”

I cut her off with a kiss. Hard. Hungry. Claiming.