Page 86 of Slow Burn

“I’ll need to put you down as a reference, and I hope that whatever has transpired between us won’t impact your professional opinion of me,” she says in a clipped, almost robotic way that’s unfamiliar to me. It’s like she’s talking to any other client or boss she’s had in the past, not the man she’s fallen in love with. I know she feels the same things I do, she said so herself.

I fucking love you too, Bossman.

I grew to like the nickname, it felt like a term of endearment. Now though, I want to erase every time she’s ever said it from my mind if it would prevent her from viewing me as just her boss now.

Based on the set of her jaw, the harsh look in her eyes, I think the only thing that could change her mind is rewriting the past.

“Of course, Lyla. I would never say anything that would reflect poorly,” I say. The thing is, even as Lyla stands here breaking my fucking heart, I don’t have anything bad to say about her. I love her, and I will always love her, even if she can no longer love me back.

“Okay, well, good.” Lyla backs away from me and toward the guest house. “That’s all I have to say, Beck. You got it out of me, all of this messy emotion. Do you feel better now? Because I sure as hell don’t.”

Then she opens the door, and disappears inside.

Shutting me out completely.

I haven't seen Austin anywhere since I got home. Not even as I worked down at the barn finishing up some chores that him and Nash never got around to this weekend.

I was hoping to talk to him, come clean. I figure it’s best to get the fact that I let myself fall in love with his sister off my conscience, whether she still wants to be with me or not.

Being around Austin will be hell for me with this secret between us. I’d never be able to live with myself. But then, there’s also the possibility that his reaction will be even worse now that I’ve not only fallen for her, but I’ve hurt her, too.

My heart drops as I remember the look on her face, the look of hurt and betrayal that crossed her features that I was responsible for. I told myself I’d never be the one to hurt Lyla but more than that, I promised Austin I’d take care of her, too.

I’ve failed at all of it. I’ve failed the ranch, despite all the work Lyla and I have put into it.

I head out to the pasture and click the back of my tongue, calling Willow over to the fence. She trots over, excited to see me, immediately nuzzling the pocket of my denim jacket. I pull out some treats I keep in there for her and she gobbles them up out of the palm of my hand.

“What do you say we go for a ride?” I ask her, even though I know she’s always game for a ride. One that’s just for us, where she can run free.

The sun paints the mountains in sunset colours by the time I get her saddled up, and we ride until it disappears behind the horizon. There isn’t much time between when the sun disappears completely and when darkness falls over the prairies, so I turn her around and head back toward the barn.

Unfortunately, the ride didn’t clear my head the way I hoped it would, or the way riding normally does, and my brain is still a fucking mess by the time I get back and clip Willow up to take off her tack and brush her. I pick up the curry comb out of the bucket and get to work, still mentally unpacking everything that happened today.

I’m completely lost in thought, which is why I barely notice that Austin has walked in behind me. He doesn’t say anything, which is odd. He goes over to Bandit’s stall, grabs a shovel and starts mucking it out. A little more forcefully than usual, I notice.

I don’t say anything either, because I’m not in a particularly talkative mood, so the silence is welcome. Until Austin kicks over a metal bucket and sends it flying in my direction.

“What the fuck, man!” I say. Willow spooks at noises like that, and she takes an uneasy step forward and nickers. He should know better.

“What the fuck? What the fuck?” Austin is almost shouting now, and when I look up at his face his eyes are shrouded with anger. Anger that I know for certain now is directed at me. “Were you ever going to tell me you’re fucking my sister?”

Shit.

“Might want to be more careful next time you go gallivanting around with Lyla in a neighbouring town. You do realize I have friends outside of Sage Valley, right?”

Double shit.

That weekend was incredible, perfect in every way up until Lyla found that stupid fucking text on my phone. Now every memory of it will be tainted, a reminder of how royally I’ve fucked my life up.

Austin finding out about this not from me is quite possibly the worst way this could have ever gone down. Years of loyalty, of honesty, of brotherhood are swirling down the drain before my very eyes.

“Austin, I can explain,” I say, doing everything I can to keep my tone measured and even.

“I don’t want your explanation. Lyla is and has always been off-limits around here,” Austin spits. “That’s not even the worst part. Had you come to me first and told me about all this I might have considered it. But you fucking lied to my face for weeks. You played it like you were looking out for her, defending her in front of the guys, firing Dylan and all that bullshit. All because you were the one gunning for her.”

“That’s not–” I start, but Austin cuts me off, taking a few steps toward me with his pointer finger extended in my direction.

“I can’t believe I ever called you my best friend. My fucking brother.”