14. Mila
MILA
We end up at Rosie's Diner afterward, sliding into a corner booth with plates of burgers and fries that I immediately steal half of from Luke's side.
"You have your own food," he points out, but he's smiling while he says it.
"Mine tastes better when it's stolen." I drag a fry through ketchup and pop it in my mouth. "It's basic psychology."
"That's not how psychology works."
"How would you know? You studied business management, not human behavior."
"I know enough to recognize manipulation when I see it."
I steal another fry just to prove my point. He shakes his head, still smiling, and the sight of it does something warm and dangerous to my chest.
This version of Luke feels different. Lighter somehow. The tension that's been coiled between us since we first met has shifted into something easier. Something that feels like we might actually figure this out instead of constantly circling each other in a panic.
We talk about everything and nothing. He tells me stories about Dean's rodeo disasters that have me laughing hard enough that I nearly choke on my burger.
I tell him about the time Sadie convinced me to go ice fishing and I ended up falling through thin ice into freezing water.
Back and forth, trading pieces of ourselves over greasy diner food and refills of coffee I definitely don't need this late at night.
By the time we leave, it's nearly ten and I'm buzzing with a happiness that feels almost foreign. Light and uncomplicated in a way I haven't felt in months.
"Thank you," I say as Luke opens the truck door for me. "For tonight. I had the best time."
Something soft crosses his features. "Me too."
We drive in comfortable silence for a while, and I assume he's taking me home until he turns onto the road leading back toward Blackwood Ranch.
"Are we going to the ranch?"
"If that's okay." He glances over at me briefly before focusing back on the road. "Wanted to show you something."
"More surprises?"
"One more."
I settle back into the seat, watching the dark landscape roll past through the window. Montana at night is a different kind of beautiful—all shadows and silhouettes against an endless sky.
Luke takes a route I don't recognize, following dirt roads deeper into the property until we're surrounded by nothing but open pasture. He parks near a fence line where the land rises slightly, giving us a view of the valley stretching out below.
"Come on." He kills the engine and climbs out, walking around to drop the tailgate.
I follow, watching as he pulls a worn blanket from behind the seats and spreads it across the truck bed. The whole setup is so unexpectedly thoughtful that I have to bite back a smile.
"You planned this."
"Maybe." He offers me a hand up, and I take it, letting him pull me into the truck bed. "Figured you hadn't seen the stars properly yet."
He's not wrong. I've been in this small town for months but somehow never made it far enough from town lights to really see what everyone talks about.
The moment I look up, my breath catches.
Stars. Thousands of them, scattered across the sky like someone spilled glitter across black velvet. They're so bright and dense that I can see the actual Milky Way cutting through the darkness in a hazy band of light.
"Holy shit." The words come out as a whisper. "Luke, this is?—"
"Yeah."
We both lie back on the blanket, shoulders touching, faces turned up toward the infinite expanse above us. It feels impossibly vast. Like the sky goes on forever and we're just two tiny points existing beneath it.
"I don't think I've ever actually seen this many stars," I admit. "Not even when we went camping in college. It was always too cloudy or too close to cities or something."
"It's one of the best things about being out here." His voice is quiet. Reverent. "Some nights when I can't sleep, I come out here and just... look. Reminds me that whatever I'm worried about isn't as big as I'm making it."
I turn my head to look at him instead of the stars. His profile is outlined in moonlight—strong jaw, straight nose, that mouth I can't stop thinking about. He looks peaceful in a way I haven't seen before. Less guarded.
"What do you worry about?" I ask.
He's quiet for a long moment, and I think maybe he won't answer. Then he shifts slightly, fingers finding mine in the space between our bodies.
"Everything." The admission is soft but honest. "The ranch. Making sure things run smoothly. Whether I'm doing enough for Dad and Dean. Whether guests are happy or if we're going to have enough bookings next season." He pauses. "You."
My heart kicks against my ribs. "Me?"
"Yeah. You."
There's something in his voice that makes my throat feel tight. Something vulnerable that he's letting me see.
I thread my fingers more firmly through his, holding on. "What about me?"
"Whether I was going to screw this up before it even started." He turns his head, meeting my eyes in the darkness. "Whether you'd regret what happened between us. Whether I was being selfish for wanting you when I knew you were planning to leave eventually."
The words land between us, heavy with meaning. And suddenly I understand why he pulled away after we slept together. Why he looked at me like he'd made a terrible mistake instead of something we both wanted.
He was protecting himself. Protecting me. Trying to keep both of us from getting hurt because that's what Luke Blackwood does—he takes care of everyone else even when it costs him everything.
"Luke." I roll onto my side, propping myself up on one elbow so I can see him properly. "Why didn't you just tell me that?"
"Didn't know how." He mirrors my position, facing me now. "And I was scared. Of wanting this. Of wanting you. I've spent so long making sure I don't want things for myself that I don't really know how to do it anymore."
"What changed?" I ask quietly. "Between yesterday when you could barely look at me and today when you asked me out?"
He reaches up, tucking a curl behind my ear with rough fingers that linger against my jaw.
"Dean told me I was being an idiot. That I was already invested whether I admitted it or not.
" His thumb traces along my cheekbone. "And he was right.
I was so busy trying to protect myself from getting hurt that I hurt you instead. That's not what I wanted."
"What do you want?"
The question hangs between us, charged with possibility.
"You." The word comes out low. Certain. "I want you, Mila. However long you're here. Whatever this is. I want it."
Something in my chest cracks wide open. Something that's been locked up tight since my life fell apart. Since I learned that people leave and relationships end and wanting something doesn't mean you get to keep it.
But Luke is looking at me like I'm the only thing that matters in his entire carefully ordered world. Like he's terrified and hopeful and completely honest all at once.
And I want him too. God, I want him so much it physically hurts.
"I'm a mess," I tell him, needing him to understand. "My life is a disaster. I don't know what I'm doing or where I'll be in six months or if I'm even capable of not screwing this up."
"I know."
"And you still want this?"
"Yeah." He moves closer, forehead nearly touching mine. "I know you're scared. I know you don't trust yourself right now because of what happened before. But I'm not him, Mila. I'm not going to waste your time or keep you guessing about what I want."
My eyes burn. "What if I leave? What if I wake up one day and decide I can't do this anymore and I go back to the city?"
"Then I'll deal with it." His hand slides into my hair, cradling the back of my head. "But I'd rather have whatever time we get than spend the rest of my life wondering what could have happened if I'd been brave enough to try."
The words undo me completely.
I close the remaining distance between us and kiss him. Deep and slow, pouring everything I don't know how to say into the contact. All my fear and hope and desperate want.
Luke responds immediately, his other hand finding my waist and pulling me closer until there's no space left between our bodies. The kiss shifts from gentle to consuming, months of tension and fighting and denying ourselves finally giving way to something honest.
I slide my hand up his chest, feeling his heart racing beneath my palm. His fingers tighten in my hair, angling my head so he can deepen the kiss further. I make a sound against his mouth—something between a sigh and a whimper—and feel him smile briefly before claiming my lips again.
This is different from the office. Different from the frantic need that drove us together before. This is deliberate. Intentional. Both of us choosing this instead of trying to convince ourselves it doesn't matter.
When we finally break apart, both breathing hard, Luke rests his forehead against mine.
"Sadie knows," he says quietly. "About us. About what happened."
I blink, trying to process through the haze of kissing him. "She does?"
"Apparently she and Harper cornered me yesterday while you were getting air." His thumb traces patterns against my hip through my sweater. "She said she was glad. That you deserved someone who would make you happy."
Something warm blooms in my chest. "She did?"
"Yeah." He pulls back enough to meet my eyes. "I was worried about ruining things. About crossing a line with her best friend. But she told me I was being an idiot and that you're not some delicate thing that needs protecting."
"I really love Sadie."
"She loves you too." His expression softens. "Everyone does. You showed up here and just... fit. Made yourself essential without even trying."
"I tried a little," I admit. "The coffee delivery was strategic."
He laughs, the sound rumbling through his chest where I'm pressed against him. "I know. It worked."
"Good to know my manipulation skills are effective."
"Terrifyingly so." He kisses me again, softer this time. Sweet.