Chapter 10 Millie
Millie
Everything feels great. Well, almost great. Waking up in the middle of the night for another round left my body feeling sore and exhausted. I’ll probably have to take today off if I don’t want to die.
Somehow, Cyrus seems to be a mind reader, because when I wake up, the bed is empty. With the sun already in the sky, I can bet he’s at least halfway done with his usual routine.
Has he eaten yet? Knowing him, he’s probably filled to the brim with coffee. I should make him breakfast. Even if my body is sore, I’m sure I’ve got the strength to make some pancakes.
Leaving his bed, I slip toward his closet and do one of the things I’ve really wanted to do.
Stealing one of his flannels, my fingers fumble to button the long row to keep the shirt closed.
Considering hunting down my underwear, I decide against it.
The hem goes past my knees. In a fun way, it’s kind of like a dress.
If he wants to plop me on the table and touch me again, even if my body does need rest, then I don’t want anything getting in the way.
The thought makes me giggle, and I make my way to the kitchen. Snagging a hair tie along the way, I listen to Meatball’s distant barks as she probably does her rounds. With her, unless Cyrus has a task for her, she just does whatever she wants. Even if that’s just terrorizing those around her.
Hunting down my phone to find a recipe, I spot another missed call from Dad.
Shoot. I promised to call him last night, didn’t I? Staying here means I need to really get on track of talking to him. We’re too close; he’ll have separation anxiety otherwise. The way I’ve been ignoring him… I need to be better.
In an attempt to return his call, I’m met with the lovely sound of his voicemail. Leaving him an apology, I sent him a text with praying and crying emojis right after, hoping he’ll forgive me. When he calls back, I’ll apologize a thousand times over.
I still need to try that pie and tell him what I think. That’ll be for later. Right now, pancakes are the only thing on my mind. Well, almost only. Cyrus has made himself a space in the corner there, all for himself.
Finding all the ingredients I need, I can’t stop the smile that spreads across my face as I cook.
Already imagining him coming inside, exhausted from the day, just to wrap himself around me has me getting all giddy.
So, this is what love really is, huh? Cloud nine really is soft and fluffy.
Making more than I probably should, I’ve got a plate stacked high when the sound of the front door opening echoes in the distance. Wondering how I should greet him after everything that happened the night before, I bit my bottom lip out of eagerness.
Spinning on my heel, expecting my favorite cowboy to be standing there all sweaty and sexy, I’m met with someone the literal opposite.
No. Not Cyrus. Not at all.
“D-Dad?” Sputtering, I step back against the oven and barely avoid burning myself. Yanking back, I’m sure I look absolutely mortified. And that’s before I realize my current state of dress.
Oh. My. God.
I can’t even figure out how to ask him what he’s doing here. Especially when the smile that came to greet me suddenly disappears on his face. It doesn’t take a genius to look at me and figure out what is going on. He’s come to surprise me, but I think I’ve beaten him to the punch.
“Wait.” Sputtering the word, I fumble with the knobs of the stove. “I made breakfast. I’m so glad you’re here. Let’s eat and chat. I actually have something I need to tell you and—”
When I turn back, my dad is no longer standing there.
He’s either going to get upset, hop back in his car and drive all the way back home, or he’s going to…
Oh no.
I’m running out of the kitchen without thinking twice. Not bothering to change or even throw on shoes, I’m leaving the home in hopes of avoiding a big misunderstanding.
Seeing Dad already approaching the barn, I know it’s going to be a huge one.
“Dad!” Calling after him, I run across gravel. Should’ve grabbed shoes. The grass is more forgiving, more than I probably deserve.
The barn’s empty, thank goodness. Having no need to yell at the cows, I’m given the chance to catch up.
It’s the strangest thing, really. I’ve never seen him mad before. Maybe a little grumpy if it rains, or if something doesn’t go his way, but I’ve never seen such a frown engraved on his face before. Not like this.
He’s red in the face, like a bull ready to pummel the fool who shakes the red cloth. If he were smaller, I wouldn’t worry much. Unfortunately, they’re about the same size.
“I just want to talk to him.” Dad keeps his voice calm and steady, but boy, his tone gives the truth away. “Where is he?”
Instead of answering him, I distract him with a question of my own. “What are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here. I mean, I’m glad to see you, but—”
“You don’t call, insisting on stressing me to death.
” Flexing his jaw, he jerks his chin like he can’t look at me.
Instead, he searches the pasture for movement.
“Thought you might’ve gotten hurt or something, but didn’t want to tell me.
” He laughs. “Fuck, Millie. What have I done?” He shakes his head and continues, horrifying me with his next words.
“I sent you here, to a place I thought was safe.”
“Safe?” Sputtering at the implication that Cyrus is dangerous, or that he’s even bad at all, has me feeling heat rising. Maybe we share a similar rage. “Cyrus is—”
Dad’s moving again, this time in a straight line. When I follow his gaze, not only do I see Cyrus on his horse, but I see the horrified expression on his face.
Yeah, this is going downhill really fast. I need to get control now before someone ends up hurt. Caring about both men, I don’t want to see any of them in pain. Plus, with how long their friendship has lasted, I don’t want to be the cause of it falling apart.
My heart slams against my ribs as Cyrus guides his horse toward the fence line, his eyes darting from my father’s thunderous expression to my panicked, barely dressed state.
He dismounts smoothly, his usual easy grace replaced by a coiled tension.
Dipping between the gaps of the fence, he tries to act normal as he approaches.
“Jerry,” he says, his voice more nervous than I’ve ever heard. ”Didn’t know you were stopping by.” He glances my way as a silent question, and my shrug confirms that I didn’t have a freaking clue.
“I bet it is,” Dad bites out, stepping forward until he’s just a few feet from him. “You want to explain to me what the hell is going on here, Cyrus? Or do I need to draw my own conclusions?”
Cyrus notices his tone, too. Like me, he’s quick to take offense. “Millie is safe here. She’s happy.”
“Happy?” Dad barks a sharp, disbelieving laugh. “She looks exhausted. She looks…” He stops himself short, like he doesn’t want to finish his sentence. I don’t think I want him to, either.
“It’s not what you think,” I start, but my voice wavers, losing strength fast. I’ve never gotten into an argument with Dad, either. Best friends aren’t supposed to fight.
Cyrus curls his hands, somehow keeping his thoughts from slipping onto his expression. “You need to calm down. We can talk about this.”
“Calm down?” Dad repeats, the words a low, dangerous rumble. “My daughter doesn’t call. Makes me think something happened to her, and turns out to be getting…” He gestures helplessly at the flannel, the love bites, his composure snapping. “And you’re telling me to calm down?”
“Dad, please!” I rush forward, but I’m too late.
Turns out, Dad has such a short fuse, it’s no wonder I’ve never seen it before.
He swings his fist like it’s an automatic reaction. It connects with Cyrus’s jaw with a sickening crack. Cyrus’s head snaps to the side, and he stumbles back a step, boots scuffing the dirt. He brings a hand up to his cheek, his fingers pressing against the reddening skin.
Cyrus looks like a man who’d swing back without second-guessing himself, but then I notice his eyes flick in my direction. His nostrils flare, and I know he wants to. One quick shake of my head is all he needs to see.
Dad isn’t done. He’s breathing hard, pointing a furious finger back toward the house. “Pack your things. We’re leaving.”
That’s when I see the shift in Cyrus. Like, just a few words are enough to trigger him; he’s balling up his fist. The rage explodes across his face, stripping away the careful control. His eyes, usually so warm and patient, turn to a heat of anger.
“No!”
I don’t think. I just move, throwing myself between them before Cyrus can take a single step.
My hands come up, one pressed against my father’s heaving chest, the other reaching back to find the solid warmth of Cyrus’s arm.
I can feel the tremor in his muscles, the last attempt to try his hardest to hold back.
“Stop it! Both of you, just stop!” My voice is sharper than I’ve ever heard it. “I am not going anywhere.”
Dad stares at me, incredulous. “The hell you aren’t. You’re coming home.”
“This is my home,” I say, the words coming out like they’re natural. “And you need to stop talking at me and start listening to me. For once, just listen!”
My father sputters, shaking his head like he can dislodge the words. “Listen to what, Millie? That you’re messing around with a man twice your age? Don’t you know how that looks?”
“I don’t care how it looks!” The truth, finally free, is a relief so profound it makes me lightheaded. “I love him. Dad, I’ve already made up my mind. I’m staying.”
Cyrus moves as soon as the last word leaves my lips.
His hand, the one not clenched at his side, finds mine where it rests on his arm.
He gently pulls me back, tucking me securely against his front.
His arms wrap around me like it’s a natural instinct.
His chin rests on the top of my head, and I feel the steady, furious beat of his heart against my back.
I feel him release a breath he’s been holding.
“She said she’s staying,” Cyrus says, his voice final. “If you can’t listen to her, then you can leave. You can come back when you’re ready to hear her.”
Dad stares at us, his anger momentarily frozen into sheer, uncomprehending disbelief. He looks from my determined face to Cyrus’s unyielding one, and his expression crumples into something lost and horrified. “Kiddo, this is… this is insane.”
Sure, maybe it is. But I have no doubt that this is what I want. So, if I can talk to him before anything else goes down, maybe I can get him to see it my way, too.
“We’re all going to eat,” I tell them both before I twist in Cyrus’s embrace just enough to look up at him. “And we’re going to talk. Like civilized people. I worked very hard on some pancakes.”
The two of them look at each other, the hesitation still there. I’m the one who has to urge them back toward the house, planting myself between them, just in case.
Eventually, I get Dad to the table. Before I get too comfortable, I’m smart enough to put on clothing that isn’t as revealing. Hard to do with this summer heat, and Cyrus wasn’t shy about where he left marks. Then I’m loading up his plate with reheated pancakes, carefully planning my words.
Cyrus is gone, cleaning up since he smells like he’s rolled around with the pigs.
It’s just us, and he’s staring at his plate like he’s completely lost.
“Coming here wasn’t a mistake,” I say, breaking the heavy silence. My voice is soft but steady. “Because I came here, I figured out what I want. I want to be here. With him. With this land.”
He looks up, pain in his eyes. “What about your plans? What about college? Millie… I don’t want you to be like me. Missing an opportunity like this…”
“I’d rather be pecked to death by chickens than force myself to learn something I’m not even sure I’d want to do ten years from now,” I say, and a tiny, real smile touches my lips.
“Cyrus loves this ranch. It’s not perfect, but it’s his.
And I want to be by his side while we make it work.
He’s been alone, you’ve said it yourself.
I want to change that. That’s what I want to do.
I don’t need to go to some fancy school to find happiness. I’ve found it right here.”
Dad hums in contemplation, hardly giving his feelings away.
The floorboard creaks. Cyrus returns, taking a world-record-breaking shower before claiming the seat beside me. Without a word, I reach up and gently touch his cheek, where an angry red mark is already darkening into a bruise. He leans into the touch, just slightly.
My dad watches the exchange, and a soft curse escapes him. “Jesus.”
“I’ll take care of her,” Cyrus says, his eyes locked on my father. “You have my word. I’d never let her get hurt.”
Dad’s gaze drops to my throat, and I notice his bob. “Right.”
“I’ll call you,” I promise, leaning forward. “Every day if you want, until you get tired of hearing my voice. But I can admit it, I’ve been seriously slacking. I’ve just been… terrified of disappointing you.”
The admission seems to deflate him. The last of the fight drains from his shoulders. “Millie, you could never disappoint me. I just want you to be happy.” He sighs, a weary, world-heavy sound. “Even if… this is what makes you happy right now.”
Cyrus’s hand finds mine on the tablecloth, lacing our fingers together. “There’s nothing ‘right now’ about it,” he says, his voice quiet but absolute. “I’d marry her tomorrow if she’d have me. I’m in this for life.”
I gasp, my head whipping toward him. A wild, impossible joy flares in my chest.
My dad just looks horrified. “Marry? That would make you my son-in-law.” He runs a hand over his face, a groan of pure exasperation ripping from him. “Cyrus. We graduated together, for fuck’s sake. Kicked ass together for years.”
Cyrus merely shrugs, the gesture so utterly unconcerned it’s almost comical. The truth is simply the truth to him.
A stunned silence swallows the room. I watch them, these two most important men in my life, one looking wrecked, the other looking utterly resolved.
As I get Cyrus some food, I offer Dad a small, hopeful smile. “I’m okay. Really, I am.”
He looks at me long and hard before finally nodding. “It’s… going to take me some time to get used to this.”
“Take all the time you need,” Cyrus says from beside me. He’s not smiling, but the fierce edge is gone from his voice. “As long as you’re not trying to take her away, you’re welcome here anytime. You’re family. I know how much that means to you.”
Dad meets his gaze then, a long, measured look passing between them—an old classmate, a furious father, and now, impossibly, something else.
Everything feels… okay. I think with time, everything is going to be the way it should be.