Page 10 of Trusting Blake
“Why did you come here?”
“Why do you think, Miss Mila? To see you, of course!” he says with a sincere, gentle smile. “I wanted to see for myself that you’re okay, and also because I want you to know that if you ever need to get out of here to do something fun andnormal, I have your escape route all figured out.”
I cock my head to the side and smirk. “You think I’m agile enough to scale an eight-foot wall?”
“With how good you dance, nothing would surprise me,” Blake teases, and I don’t know how it’s even possible with howawfulI feel, but my stomach lurches with nervous excitement. “But no. I have the truck on this side to get you down, but you need to figure out what you can use on your side to help you climb up. There must be some old ladders lying around this place, right?”
I’m not so thrilled at the prospect of scaling this wall even with a ladder, but that twist of excitement inside me urges me on. “I can have a look around tomorrow.”
“And I bet your aunt and grandfather don’t venture to the very back corners of the ranch?”
“No.”
“See, foolproof!” he exclaims, fist-bumping the air.
I hug my arms around my chest, feeling a shiver run down my spine. Goosebumps cover my skin, and I feel like a complete idiot standing here in satin PJs and old sneakers at nearly one in the morning, talking to Blake from eight feet below him.
“Mila,” he says, and I lock my eyes on his. “Take this.”
He pulls his hoodie up over his head, his T-shirt catching to reveal his tanned, defined stomach. I don’t even bother tearing my eyes away as he smooths his shirt back down, then throws me his hoodie. It’s way too big for me, but I pull it on regardless and keep my hands tucked up warm inside the long sleeves.
“Thank you,” I manage to say, because honestly? I don’t know how he has the power to make me blush at a time like this. “Not just for this,” I continue with a small laugh, holding up the oversized, baggy sleeves of his hoodie. “But for coming out here to see me.”
“Uh, Mila,” he says after a minute, getting back up to his feet and staring off at something behind me. “Is the gate supposed to be opening?”
“What?” I squint far, far across the ranch to where the house looks tiny and the gate beyond it even smaller, and Blake isn’t imagining things – the gate really is moving.
With bated breath, I watch in open-mouthed confusion, racking my brain for a possible explanation. I thought everyone was asleep, and even if they weren’t, I doubt anyone would leave the ranch this late, especially with the reporters camping out, waiting like a pack of hungry dogs.
But it very quickly becomes apparent that no one is leaving the ranch.
Someone is arriving.
I make out the dark shape of an SUV pulling in, the flashing of cameras reflecting off the paintwork, and then the gate begins to close again, shutting out what seems to be a way bigger crowd than was there earlier. The SUV’s headlights shine ahead as it moves slowly, smoothly up the dirt road, and I get the most sickening feeling of realization, a heavy thud that falls straight to my stomach.
“Oh my God,” I murmur. “I think—”
“What, Mila?” Blake whispers, his eyes following the SUV as its beams illuminate the house.
“I think,” I say, “that my dad has come home.”
5
“Your dad?” Blake says, his features creased in surprise. “What the hell?”
“I don’t know,” I stutter. My focus is still locked on the SUV as it draws to a stop directly in front of the porch, and my feet begin moving on their own accord. “I’m sorry, Blake. I have to go.” And then I throw a look over my shoulder with an apologetic grimace, “Again,” because it feels like all I do is run away from him lately. I’m glad he hasn’t given up on me – I could do with a shoulder to lean on, and he seems to know this.
“Remember I’m here if you need to escape!” I hear him whisper-call after me, and I turn to wave. He gives me a sympathetic smile of reassurance, which makes my heart swell, then he disappears over the other side of the wall where – I hope – he lands safely in the back of his truck.
As I run back across the ranch and through the fields at lightning speed, my thoughts shift from Blake to Dad. It can’t be. It can’t be him. I know it was once his family home, but. . . I can’t believe Dad is here in Fairview. Has he followed Mom all the way out here? Does he want to fix the damage he’s caused?
When I reach the stables, I flatten myself against the building and take a closer look at the Harding Estate’s newest arrivals. The driver opens the door and a lanky figure steps out, stretching his slim legs. He rests a hand on the door, analyzing the house before him with an assessing tilt of his head. Unmistakably Ruben.
The passenger door swings open next and my breath catches as I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. Broad shoulders, dark hair, sunglasses shielding his eyes as always even though it’s after midnight and pitch dark. . . Dad. I guess it makes sense that he’s here, but this soon? I don’t know if I’m ready to face him yet.
He gets out of the SUV and swipes the sunglasses from his face, tossing them back into the vehicle and pushing the door shut. Unlike Mom, Dad doesn’t appear all that different. Even in the shadowy dark, I can tell his outfit is perfectly pieced together and fashion-shoot ready, and his dark hair is gelled in its signature style. He does, however, rub at his eyes as if to wipe away signs of stress or fatigue.
When I last saw Dad a month ago, I was angry at him for sending me to Tennessee. Now that I see his face again, I amlivid.He looks indifferent, impassive. Detached. He doesn’t feel like the father I once knew.
