I frown, though this part isn’t news to us.

“We can’t leave at all?” From Miles.

“Why would you need to leave?” Shankle asks.

“Because we have lives,” Miles says.

A throat clear from Shankle. “There are stipulations.”

Miles rolls his eyes but he doesn’t ask for elaboration. Neither do I. What good will it do?

Shankle continues, “You may not draw on the money prior to that date, although while you live here and learn about the ranch—”

“Excuse me,” Miles cuts in. “Learn about the ranch?”

Shankle clears his throat. “Well…yes. Your father specifically states in the will that he wants the three of you to run the ranch together.”

I rake my fingers through my hair. “For Christ’s sake.”

“You’ll get an allowance,” Shankle continues, “and of course your room and board will be provided.”

“Where?” Miles asks.

“Here, at the main house. The three of you will live together.”

“In bunk beds, Daddy?” Miles jokes. “And if we fight, we won’t get our allowance, right?”

I chuckle. Chance may be a huge dick, but Miles? He’s growing on me. We may have grown up on different sides of the country, but we’re stuck here in the middle now.

“The house is big enough for you each to have a private bedroom and bathroom,” Shankle says, completely ignoring Miles’s sarcasm. “Austin already knows this, since he’s been here for a few days.”

“How much is this allowance?” I do some mental calculations on how to keep the business afloat and bills paid.

“A thousand dollars a month,” he says. “But remember, you’re not paying for food or shelter.”

Right. For billionaires, we aren’t even breaking the poverty line.

“Here on the ranch,” I say, thinking of the mortgage on Mom’s house. I moved all my things into a storage unit and canceled the lease on my place, but there are still bills.

Miles laughs. “Yeah. I’m sure as shit paying for shelter in New York.”

A thousand dollars a month. I actually make more piloting a seaplane.

My life in a nutshell—

The woman who makes my dick throb is taken.

My mother is ill and alone back in Seattle.

My littlest brother already hates me.

And I’m the poorest fucking billionaire on the planet.

Great. Just great.

All Chance has to do is keep right on living his life, foaling calves or mending fences or whatever he does around here to get his billion. Miles and I have to uproot our whole lives.

Chance finishes his beer. This time, when he goes to the fridge, he grabs three by the long necks. He turns and tosses one to me and the other to Miles.

I consider it an olive branch as I catch it. “Thanks.”

“Tell us, Shankle, the one thing I’m sure all three of us are wondering,” Chance says. “Why?”

“Why?” Shankle repeats.

Chance nods. “Yeah, why? Why would my old man leave his fortune to kids he doesn’t care about? Sure, they’re his blood, but why give them something now when he didn’t give them shit before?”