Lila
The ride home was tense, and that was my fault. The farther we got from the restaurant, the sillier I felt about the way I’d behaved.
The panic had felt so real at the time. I hadn’t thought about Owen’s feelings at all; only my own embarrassment.
And what did I have to be embarrassed about really? Being in a consensual relationship with a man I cared deeply for? That was hardly a criminal offense, even in small-minded Lovewell.
“Do you want me to drop you off at your mom’s house?” he asked, his focus still fixed on the road ahead of us.
My stomach sank. The plan had been for me to stay at his cabin tonight. I had an overnight bag in the back of the car and everything.
I’d told my mom about the sleepovers, knowing there would be no judgment there. She did dive into a lecture about safe sex, but that was to be expected. I’d been getting the same one pretty regularly since the day I turned thirteen.
“I thought I’d spend the night,” I said softly, fixing my attention on my hands in my lap.
Clearly distracted, he let out a hum and continued on.
I didn’t want to be that needy girl, but he’d gone so distant, and I could have really used a little reassurance.
Not that he owed it to me. I’d created this problem.
God, I was such an idiot. Would it have been so bad to smile and keep my chin held high while the town gossiped about how I was dating my ex’s brother?
My tips at the diner were already shitty, and everyone thought my mom and I were trash.
Would this really make things any worse?
Back at the cabin, Owen lit the wood stove and I went to the kitchen and put on the kettle for tea. I would make a cup, steel myself, and talk to him. He was too important to me. I needed to put on my big girl panties and have the adult conversation.
My heart ached in my chest. I wasn’t sure I could let him go. I wasn’t sure I could walk away from what we had. But I also wasn’t sure I had a choice in the matter.
I wandered back to where he was fiddling with the wood stove. It was better to just tell him. Flat out. I was falling in love with him and panicking and acting like an immature fool. I’d own my shit and be honest.
Yup. Solid plan.
He straightened and wiped his hands. “Why are you giving me your pageant smile?”
I deflated. Dammit. I hadn’t realized I was doing it. The moment things got tense, it was like I reverted back to my factory settings.
Be pleasant. Be quiet. Don’t say anything.
“I’m sorry I’m in a mood. But you don’t have to do that.
” Frowning, he gestured at my face. “That’s the smile you give nasty customers at the diner.
” He stepped in closer and tipped my chin up.
“I only want your real smiles, Lila. If you’re mad at me, tell me.
Yell at me. I’ll do better. But don’t pretend everything is fine. Trust your feelings.”
God, I loved this man. And I needed to say it out loud.
With tears pricking at the backs of my eyes and my heart threatening to crack in two, I put my arms around him and buried my face in his chest.
“I’m just…” I trailed off and pulled back so I could look into his deep blue eyes. Shit, this was hard. Why was it so impossible to just say what I wanted out loud? “I’m ashamed of how I acted tonight. I can’t believe I hid in the bathroom.”
“It’s fine.” His tone disagreed.
“No, it’s not. Don’t do that, Owen. You can hold me accountable. I was being selfish and immature, and I’m sorry. I just wasn’t ready to face those people, and I should have handled it better.”
“You’re young, Lila.”
I could hear the record scratch in my head. Why was he brushing me off? I was trying to be an adult and take responsibility for my actions. My age had nothing to do with it.
“And I know you’re disappointed about the NYU scholarship.”
As upset as I was about the scholarship, I was more angry about my behavior at the restaurant and the situation I’d backed us into.
He kissed the top of my head and held me tighter. “I’m so sorry. But I can give you the money for tuition.”
I jerked back. “Excuse me?” Hold up. This was not how I’d seen this conversation going.
He tilted his head, his face a mask of pity.
Oh, hell no.
“Or lend it to you. I just don’t want you to have to worry about money.”
I blinked, thinking that might pull me out of what had to be a hallucination.
He rubbed my shoulders, completely oblivious. Then he stiffened. “Shit. My phone.”
He jogged around the kitchen island and plugged in his dead phone as I stewed. I didn’t want his pity or his charity. I wanted a teammate, someone who pushed me to be better and called me out on my shit.
“I don’t need your money, Owen.”
He wasn’t getting this. I opened my mouth, willing something logical and reasonable to come out. But I snapped it shut again when his phone erupted with one notification after another.
“Shit,” he said, unlocking the device. “I have a bunch of messages from Sara.”
Sara was the lawyer we’d met with in Boston. She’d intimidated the shit out of me, but she was great at what she did, and Owen had a lot of faith in her.
His eyes widened, and he rubbed at his beard. “Okay, a lot of messages.”
“Call her,” I said, my anger dissipating.
God, I prayed there was nothing wrong with the sale. After all the work we’d done, Owen and his brothers needed a win. They deserved it.
“It can wait,” he hedged, setting his phone down.
I put my hands on my hips and looked up at him. “Don’t make me call her myself. Just do it already.”
He swallowed audibly and searched my face, his brow furrowed, before he finally picked it up and dialed, careful to keep it plugged in.
She picked up on the first ring. “It’s about fucking time.”
“Sorry, Sara. My phone died. I’ve got you on speaker with Lila.”
“Thank God. I was debating whether I should drive up to Maine and track you down myself.”
I smiled. She would do that. I got the sense that no one ignored Sara’s calls and lived to tell about it. But she was a way better lawyer than Tad the asshole.
“I got a call from Williams & Freund today. They represent an investment group called Strategic Timber.”
“Okay,” Owen said, tapping his nails on the countertop nervously.
“They’re making an offer.”
Owen visibly startled. “Sorry?”
How was that possible? We were already in negotiation with another buyer.
“Yes,” she said. “Canadians. Big money backing. Some former Wall Street types. Anyway, they want to acquire Hebert Timber. All of it.”
“We already have a buyer.” He wiped at his face, frowning.
“But nothing is final. And this is not an offer you want to ignore. It’s big.”
Owen looked at me, as if needing reassurance, so I gave him a thumbs-up. I knew nothing of the legalities, but a big offer could change things for the Heberts.
“How big?” he asked.
As she gave him the number, the phone fell from his hand and clattered to the floor.
Holy shit. As silently as I could, I jumped up and down, clasping my hands at my chest. That was more than double the first offer.
With shaky hands, Owen recovered the phone, plugged it in again, and sucked in a deep breath, his chest rising, then falling again.
“Owen? What’s happening?”
“Sorry, Sara. I dropped my phone. Did you say what I think you said?”
“Yes, I did. This is real money. More than you’re worth, frankly, but we’ll take it. And it gets better. They intend to continue to operate the company locally and will keep on any existing employees.”
I let out a sigh of relief. If Hebert Timber could continue to operate in some capacity, it would save many jobs in Lovewell, and all the land and generations of work wouldn’t go to waste.
“There are conditions,” Sara warned.
“I don’t care what they are.” Owen had composed himself and was using his bossy professional voice. The one I loved far more than I should. “We’ll make it work. This is better than we could have hoped for.”
“Good. I’ll have the full written offer sent over as soon as I receive it.”
He hung up, took three giant steps toward me, and hauled me off my feet. My anger was forgotten as he spun me around and kissed me, his smile so big I thought it might crack his face.
“You did it,” I said softly.
“No, Lila, we did it.” He set me on my feet and held on to my arms to steady me. “I owe you so much.” His shoulders relaxed as the news set in.
Everything we’d worked for was finally coming together. He held me close, and I clung to him in return, savoring the moment. We needed to talk. About a lot of things, apparently, but I couldn’t bring myself to spoil the mood.
“Shit, there’s so much work to do.” He pulled back. “I gotta review everything, talk it over with Gus, check in on the trucks.” He was reaching for his phone again, but it was already after nine.
I put my finger to his lips. “Tomorrow,” I said. “Just enjoy this moment.”
He sagged against me and kissed me again. “There’s no one I’d rather enjoy it with.”
I should speak up. Continue our conversation and establish some boundaries. But his kisses felt so good that I let it slide.
“Then take me to bed so we can really enjoy ourselves.”