Page 56 of Becoming Mila
Finally, Blake says, “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah,” is all I respond in a quiet voice. I hug my arms around me and fight the burning at the corners of my eyes. Here they come again, all these thoughts about Dad. . . A cheater. . . A liar. . . A fraud.
“Have you spoken to your parents?”
“No. I don’t think. . .” I take a deep breath and squeeze my eyes shut. “I don’t think I can face them. Not yet. I need to process all of this first.”
“My mom shouldn’t have told you,” Blake says, shaking his head. He glares up at the clear blue sky. “That was so wrong to ambush you last night like that. It’s something you should have only ever found out from your parents themselves.”
“I don’t think my parents would have ever told me,” I mumble. When I questioned them about LeAnne Avery, that was their opening. That was their opportunity to tell me the truth, but they chose to keep silent. I don’t believe for a second that this was a secret of theirs they ever intended on sharing.
“Probably because it’s not something you needed to know,” Blake says. We stop walking to wait for Bailey to finish exploring a patch of thorn bushes, and Blake rubs his hand over the back of his neck in his usual frustrated way. “Me and my mom aren’t talking anymore. Not that things were exactly great between us. I didn’t get home until two last night because I stayed until the fire was out and the ash had cooled, and she was in the kitchen waiting for me. She told me what happened when she dropped you off.”
“Does she know you’re here right now?” I ask as we begin to walk again. Our pace feels slower and slower with each step we take. We have barely made any progress; the walls of the Harding Estate still run parallel to us.
“No, she thinks I took Bailey to the park,” he says. Then, with a faint smile, he adds, “And I blocked her from checking my location, which is something I should have done forever ago.”
The frown on my face doesn’t waver. My head feels even heavier as if it really is weighed down by bricks. I am learning too many secrets recently, and there’s no room left to deal with all of these conflicting emotions of hurt and betrayal and confusion.
“She doesn’t want you to see me,” I say.
“I know.”
“Then why did you come?”
Blake halts and turns to face me. His eyes narrow as they run over me, taking me in. “Why wouldn’t I?”
“But—”
“No. Listen,” he says abruptly. He steps forward and places his hand on my hip, bowing his head to look at me solemnly from beneath his eyelashes. “I don’t care, not one bit, about what happened in the past. That’s between my mom and your parents. Not us. So please don’t think for even a second that I’m going to lose interest in you simply because my mom is holding a grudge.”
I only absorb a couple of his words, but they are the most important ones. “So. . .” I can’t help but tease, “you’re interested in me?”
“Oh, c’mon, Mila,” he says, kicking self-consciously at the dirt. “You should know by now that I was interested as soon as you opened my truck door that first weekend. Catching your eye in the rearview and you giving me this shy, timid smile while you blushed. Yeah, exactly like that!”
My hands fly to my face to hide the color that has risen in my cheeks. Honestly, I have zero hope of ever hiding how Blake makes me feel. It’s so uncontrollable, and it gets one hundred times worse once I become aware of it.
“Miss Mila, let me see that cute blushing of yours,” Blake says. His hands reach for mine, Bailey’s leash around his wrist, and he pulls them away from my face, revealing my burning, freckled cheeks again. He beams, his dimples flashing. “There we go. You’d miss me making you blush if we stopped seeing each other, right?”
I nod, biting my lip to stop myself from grinning too wide. My hands are still in his. “Maybe.”
“Then stop worrying about what my mom said, because I’m not going anywhere.”
Our gazes lock on to one another a little stronger. Our hands are held together between our chests, and Blake ignores Bailey tugging on his leash. We are standing in the road with the sun shining down upon us and no cars in sight, just Blake and me in the Middle of Nowhere, Tennessee. The Nashville-dreaming musician and the girl who one day wants to be more than just Everett Harding’s daughter. Two people trying to live in their parents’ shadows; two people who aren’t going to be told what to do.
Blake edges closer.
“Wait,” I whisper. “Not right now.”
I would love to kiss Blake again, but my head is a mess. I want the next time I kiss him to be perfect and with no random interruptions; I want to be able to focus entirely on only him. This isn’t the right moment; not when the ground has just been knocked out from under me and I have so many questions that still need answers.
“Okay, Miss Mila,” Blake murmurs, and he lightly presses his soft lips against my cheek instead.
20
On Wednesday, Sheri reluctantly agrees to take some time away from the ranch to do something for herself. It took a lot of convincing for her to accept Patsy’s offer of simply heading out for coffee together, because I’m starting to realize that Sheri hasn’t done anything for herself in a long time. She works too hard.
I promised to keep Popeye company for the afternoon and I even offered to cook dinner tonight, and finally Sheri left the ranch with her hair and makeup styled to perfection by none other than me. It helps having a mom who’s a professional artist – I’ve picked up some tips over the years.
