"A mistake," she finished quietly, but there was no conviction in her voice.
"Was it?" I searched her face, looking for any sign of regret. "Because it felt pretty damn right to me."
She closed her eyes, and I watched her walls starting to rebuild themselves brick by brick. "We can't keep doing this, Griffin. It's too complicated."
"Life is complicated," I countered, helping her down and gathering her scattered clothes. "That doesn't mean we run from the good parts."
She dressed quickly, avoiding my eyes as she smoothed her skirt and buttoned her blouse. When she was decent again, she finally looked at me, and the distance in her gaze was like a punch to the gut.
"I have to focus on tomorrow night," she said, her voice carefully neutral. "On the showcase. On proving myself."
"And after that?"
She picked up her notes from where I'd set them aside, clutching them like a shield. "After that, we go back to our respective lives. You go back to Foxfire Valley, and I build my career here."
"It doesn't have to be that way."
"Yes, it does." Her voice was firm now, the walls fully in place. "This—whatever this is between us—it's just physical. It doesn't mean anything beyond that."
The words hit me like a slap, even though I could see the lie in her eyes. She was protecting herself the only way she knew how, but it still hurt like hell.
"If that's what you want to believe," I said quietly.
She flinched at the resignation in my voice, but she didn't take it back. Instead, she moved toward the door, then paused with her hand on the lock.
"Griffin?"
"Yeah?"
"Tomorrow night... we need to be professional. Partners in business, nothing more."
I studied her profile, seeing the tension in her shoulders, the careful set of her jaw. "If that's what you need."
She unlocked the door and stepped out into the hallway, leaving me alone among the barrels with the lingering scent of our passion and the bitter taste of rejection.
But I wasn't giving up. Not on her, not on us. Tomorrow night would come, and we'd play our professional roles to perfection. But after that? After that, all bets were off.
Because Lila King could run all she wanted, but she couldn't hide from the truth forever. What we had was real, and no amount of walls or professional distance was going to change that.
I just had to be patient enough to wait for her to figure it out.
Chapter Nine
Lila
The showcase was everything I'd dreamed it would be—and everything I'd feared.
Sparkling Oak's main tasting room had been transformed into an elegant venue, with candlelit tables scattered throughout the space and servers in crisp white shirts moving seamlessly between the groups of potential clients. The late afternoon sun slanted through the floor-to-ceiling windows, casting everything in a warm, golden glow that made the wine glasses sparkle like jewels.
I stood at the edge of the room, smoothing my black cocktail dress for the hundredth time and trying to calm my racing heart. This was it—my moment to prove that I belongedhere, that all the years of study and planning and careful control had been worth something.
"You ready for this?" Griffin's voice behind me was low and professional, but I caught the undercurrent of warmth that he couldn't quite hide.
I turned to face him, my breath catching slightly at the sight of him in a tailored charcoal suit. He looked every inch the successful businessman, but I could see the firefighter underneath—the steady confidence, the way he carried himself like someone who was used to handling crises.
"As ready as I'll ever be," I replied, keeping my voice equally professional despite the way my pulse kicked up at his proximity.
We'd managed to maintain our careful distance all day during the setup, speaking only when necessary, keeping everything strictly business. But now, standing here together as the room filled with wine buyers and distributors, the air between us crackled with unspoken tension.
