11. Mila
MILA
Imake it through the day, at least. That has to be something.
Hours of sitting at my desk pretending to work while Luke does the exact same thing five feet away.
Pretending the silence between us isn't crushing.
Pretending I don't notice how he won't look at me.
How he's buried himself so deep in guest confirmations and vendor contracts that I might as well not exist.
Like last night never happened.
Like I didn't have his hands on my body and his mouth on mine and his name falling from my lips in ways that felt important. Real.
Apparently I was wrong.
I close my laptop harder than necessary, the snap of it echoing in the too-quiet office. Luke's shoulders tense but he doesn't look up from whatever spreadsheet he's pretending is fascinating.
"I'm going to grab some air," I announce to no one in particular.
"Okay." His voice is flat. Polite. The same tone he'd use with a guest asking directions to the bathroom.
Something sharp twists in my chest.
I grab my jacket and walk out without another word, because if I stay in that office one more second I'm either going to scream or cry or demand to know what the hell happened between last night and this morning that turned him into a stranger.
The afternoon air hits my face, cold enough to sting. I pull my jacket tighter and start walking with no real destination in mind. Just away. Away from the office and the silence and the mortifying realization that I apparently misread everything.
My boots crunch against gravel as I head toward the stables. It's become my default escape route over the past few months—the horses don't judge, don't expect conversation, don't look at you like you're a mistake they regret making.
I should have known better.
The thought loops through my head as I walk, each repetition making my stomach twist tighter. I should have known better than to sleep with someone I work with. Someone I see every day. Someone I've actually started to care about in ways that terrify me.
But God, last night felt different. It felt like something that mattered. Like maybe for once I wasn't making a terrible decision. Like maybe Luke actually wanted me beyond just the physical.
Clearly I was wrong about that too.
I'm apparently really good at being wrong about men.
First my ex, who couldn't decide between me and his gaming setup. Who wasted three years of my life before I finally accepted he was never going to choose me. And now Luke, who apparently can't even look at me after we had sex on his office couch.
What the hell is wrong with me that I keep choosing men who don't actually want me?
The stables come into view and I focus on them like a lifeline. I don't know what I'm going to do when I get there—maybe brush Juniper for a while, maybe just hide in the tack room and spiral in private—but at least it's somewhere that isn't the office.
Except as I get closer, I spot two figures near the fence line.
Harper and Caleb.
They're standing close together, Harper's back against the fence while Caleb leans into her space with one hand braced on the wood beside her head. Even from here I can see the way she's smiling up at him, the way he's looking at her like she's the only thing in the world that matters.
He dips his head and kisses her. Soft. Casual. The kind of kiss that speaks to comfort and certainty and knowing exactly where you stand with someone.
My chest squeezes painfully.
I'm happy for Harper. I am. She deserves this after everything with her ex and losing her grandmother and spending so long thinking she'd never find something real.
Caleb's gruff and intimidating and older than her by a frankly ridiculous margin, but he looks at her like she hung the moon. Like he can't believe she chose him.
Which is exactly what I thought Luke might feel about me.
God, I'm an idiot.
I slow my steps, debating whether to turn around and find somewhere else to spiral when Harper spots me over Caleb's shoulder. Her expression shifts immediately—the warm contentment replaced by concern as she takes in whatever's written all over my face.
She pulls back from Caleb, who makes a low grumbling sound of protest that under different circumstances would be funny.
"Mila?" Harper calls out.
I freeze. Consider lying. Pretending everything's fine and I'm just out for a walk and definitely not having an existential crisis about sleeping with my boss's son.
But I can't make myself do it.
Because I need my friends right now. Need someone to tell me I'm not crazy for feeling hurt and confused. Need someone to confirm that yes, Luke's being weird, and no, I'm not imagining it.
"Hey." My voice comes out smaller than intended as I close the distance between us. "Sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt."
"You're not interrupting." Harper's eyes narrow slightly, reading me the way she's gotten too good at over the past few months. "You okay?"
"Fine." The word is automatic. Meaningless.
Caleb straightens from the fence, his steel-blue eyes assessing me in that quiet way of his. He doesn't say anything, but there's something knowing in his expression that makes me wonder if he can somehow tell I slept with his son.
Which is mortifying to think about.
"Caleb, can you give us a minute?" Harper's hand finds his arm, squeezing gently.
His jaw tightens slightly—clearly not thrilled about being dismissed—but he nods. "I'll be in the barn if you need me."
He drops a kiss to Harper's temple before heading off, leaving the two of us alone by the fence.
Harper turns her full attention on me. "What happened?"
"Nothing happened." I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold despite my jacket. "I just... do you want to grab Sadie and maybe get coffee or something? I could use some girl time."
Harper tilts her head, studying me. "It's almost four. Want to skip coffee and go straight to the bar? Happy hour starts at four-thirty."
The suggestion pulls a surprised laugh from me. "God, yes. That sounds perfect."
"Let me text Sadie." Harper already has her phone out, fingers flying over the screen. "I'm sure she'll have no problem joining."
Relief washes through me so intensely it's almost embarrassing. I need this. Need to sit with my friends and maybe have a drink and figure out what the hell I'm supposed to do about the fact that Luke won't even look at me after what happened between us.
The thought makes my throat tight again.
Harper glances up from her phone. "She says she'll meet us there in twenty minutes. You want to ride together?"
"Please."
We walk to Harper's truck—a newer model she bought after deciding to stay permanently in Montana.
The interior still smells faintly of new car and the vanilla air freshener hanging from her rearview mirror.
She starts the engine and cranks the heat immediately, clearly noticing how I'm still hugging myself.
"You sure you're okay?" she asks as we pull out of the ranch.
"I will be." I stare out the window at the passing landscape. "Just need some perspective."
She doesn't push, which I'm grateful for. Just turns up the radio and lets me exist in my own head for the fifteen-minute drive into town.
The bar—Red's—sits on Main Street between the hardware store and a boutique that sells overpriced Western wear to tourists.
It's the kind of place that's locals-only most of the year but gets packed during peak season.
Right now, in late November, it's blessedly empty except for a few regulars at the bar and a couple playing pool in the back.
We grab a corner booth, and Harper orders a bottle of wine for the table without asking what I want. Which is perfect because I definitely need wine right now.
Sadie arrives ten minutes later, still in her scrubs from the vet clinic, blonde hair pulled into a messy ponytail that somehow looks effortlessly perfect. She slides into the booth across from us, eyeing me with immediate concern.
"Okay, what happened?" Sadie reaches for the wine Harper's already poured. "And please tell me it involves something more interesting than guest complaints."
I fidget with my glass, suddenly unsure how to start this conversation.
Because Sadie's known the Blackwoods her entire life.
They're basically family to her. Her dad Wyatt is Caleb's best friend, which means she grew up around Luke and Dean.
She brought me here to help Luke with work—trusted me with him—and now I'm about to admit I slept with him and then got completely shut out.
And Harper's dating Luke's father, which adds another layer of potential awkwardness to this whole situation.
What if they think I'm being dramatic? What if they think I should have known better?
"Mila." Harper's hand finds mine across the table. "Whatever it is, just tell us."
I take a long drink of wine. Then another.
Sadie’s eyes narrow. "Has Luke been an asshole?"
I shake my head. “No, it’s not like that.”
"What did he do?" There's a protective edge to Sadie's voice now. "Did he dump a bunch of extra work on you or something?"
"No, it's the opposite." I press my hands to my face. "He's being perfectly polite and professional and acting like I'm just some random employee instead of..."
I trail off. Both of them lean forward.
"Instead of what?" Harper prompts gently.
Fuck it.
"Instead of someone he had sex with last night."
The silence that follows is deafening.
I peek through my fingers to find both of them staring at me with identical expressions of shock. Sadie's wine glass is halfway to her mouth, frozen in place. Harper's eyes are enormous.
Then Sadie sets her glass down carefully. "You slept with Luke."
"Yes." I drop my hands. "In the office. On the couch.
And it was really good and felt like it meant something and then this morning he won't even look at me.
He's been avoiding eye contact all day and acting like I'm a stranger and I feel like such an idiot because I thought—" My voice cracks slightly.
"I thought maybe he actually wanted me."
Harper squeezes my hand tighter.
"Oh, he definitely wants you," Sadie says immediately. "That's not the problem."
I blink at her. "How is that not the problem? He's acting like last night never happened."
"Because Luke doesn't know how to handle wanting things.
" Sadie leans forward, her expression shifting from shock to something more knowing.
"He's been taking care of everyone else since he was fourteen.
He doesn't let himself be selfish. And wanting you is probably the most selfish thing he's allowed himself in his entire adult life. "
The words hit me harder than expected.
"I'm not mad at you," Sadie continues, reading my expression. "In case that's what you're worried about. I'm not going to get all protective and tell you to stay away from him."
"You're not?"
"God, no." She reaches for the wine bottle, topping off all our glasses.
"If anything, I'm more worried about Luke.
He's never been emotionally reckless before.
Never let himself want something enough to actually go after it.
The fact that he slept with you means you've gotten under his skin in a way no one else ever has. "
Harper makes a soft sound of agreement. "Caleb says Luke's been different since you started working there. More present. Less buried in work."
"Really?" The information doesn't quite compute with the way he acted today.
"Really." Sadie takes a long drink. "Look, I pushed you two together because I knew Luke needed someone to help him live a little.
To remind him he's allowed to have things for himself instead of just handling everyone else's problems. You're good for him, Mila. Even if he's too scared to admit it."
My chest feels tight. "He didn't seem scared last night."
"No," Sadie agrees. "But this morning, when he had time to think about what it means? I guarantee he spiraled. Convinced himself he's being selfish. That you deserve better than him. That he's trapped you somehow."
The description is so accurate it makes something crack open in my chest.
"That's ridiculous," I whisper.
"Of course it is." Harper squeezes my hand again. "But I get the appeal of the Blackwood men and their weird self-sacrificing martyr complexes."
Sadie snorts into her wine.
"They're both idiots who think they're too old or too boring or too whatever to deserve good things," Harper continues. "It took Caleb almost losing me completely to pull his head out of his ass. Luke's probably doing the same thing right now."
"So what am I supposed to do?" I hate how helpless I sound. "Just wait for him to stop freaking out?"
"Talk to him," Sadie says firmly. "Don't let him retreat into his head. Luke's spent his whole life putting other people first—he's not going to suddenly decide to fight for what he wants unless you make him."
"I don't want to force him into anything."
"You're not forcing him." Harper's voice is gentle but certain. "You're giving him permission to want something for himself. There's a difference."
I stare down at my wine, processing.
"Don't give up on him yet," Sadie adds quietly. "He's worth it. I promise."