It Was Always You

Back To Work

…Lucas’s POV…

Early morning light filtered through my cabin window as I sat at the small kitchen table, running my fingers through my hair before the day began. After last night, I felt wound tight—like coiled wire waiting to snap. I stared at the door, trying to steady my nerves.

When I stepped out onto the main porch, the table was set for breakfast: biscuits, eggs, gravy, coffee mugs waiting. Owen sat across from me, arms folded, gaze quiet. Sofia stood behind the table, plating her breakfast with her usual calm efficiency. And then my eyes found Olive, poking at her food with a fork and staring at her bowl like it was the most interesting thing she’d ever seen.

I felt a pang when she finally looked up and our eyes met, but she didn’t smile. Instead, she refilled her coffee and went back to her food. Something felt off.

So did they know? I thought. Did Owen see me leave last night like that?

Owen cleared his throat. “Morning, Lucas. Beautiful day.”

“It is,” I agreed. But I hesitated before picking up my fork.

Sofia looked between us. “You boys heading to the barn after breakfast? I have new lotions and soaps that need labels so we can get the stock back up before market.”

Owen nodded. “Yeah, I’d like to. And Olive, why don’t you help Sofia? Lucas and I can get to the barn.”

Olive’s lips twitched, but she nodded. “Sure.”

I looked up at Owen, feeling the balloon of tension tighten in my gut. He said nothing more, but his expression said something is going on between you two.

Once plates were cleared and coffee empty, we split. Owen and I toward the barn, Olive and Sofia to the house.

Walking behind Owen, I tried to start the day normally. “How’d market leftovers look?”

He shrugged. “We have a lot to restock, it’s more work for sure, but it also means we made more money. You seem off today.”

“Just tired,” I lied. My heart pounded, words caught in my throat.

Owen lifted an eyebrow. “Is it Olive?” he asked quietly, voice low. “You two acted weird this morning. And I heard you go inside your cabin long after you said you’d walk her home.” He stepped inside the barn and gestured at the crates we’d brought back.

I followed him in, feeling the ache of honesty pressing against my chest. I hadn’t talked to her yet. I don’t know what this is. And I also know I should probably figure it out with her and not her brother. “No, nothing happened.”

Owen paused, leaning against a crate. “You sure about that?”

I sighed, setting down a crate. “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Owen. There’s nothing between me and your sister..”

He started moving the crates and stacking them against the wall. “I see it, just like I saw it in high school.”

I forced a casual shrug. “That was years ago, man.”

Owen studied me for a moment. “You do realize that we’ve been friends for too long for you to not talk to me, right?”

I blinked. The question hit deeper than I expected. “Of course I do. But you have told me enough over the years that she’s off limits. And I heard every single one of them.”

Owen gave me a slow nod. “Fair enough.”

I straightened and handed him a crate. “Let’s just reset. The tables still need to be reset, the crates needs to be stacked, the sooner we finish, the sooner we can take the rest of the day off.”

He nodded again. “Okay. Off limits.”

I didn’t reply. I just lifted a crate and got to work.

…Olive’s POV…

I had finished sorting lotions with Sofia and felt lighter, more productive after the market high. My rhythm matched hers, label, seal, package, repeat. It felt good to move again.

I was headed toward the barn when I paused at the corner, hearing voices. Lucas and Owen. Quiet, low. I froze.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Owen. There’s nothing between me and your sister..” That was definitely Lucas.

Owen: “I see it, just like I saw it in high school.”

Lucas: “That was years ago, man.”

My chest tightened. Nothing. Years ago.

I stepped backwards and tuned out the rest of their conversation. I didn’t think I could handle hearing anymore. When they were both silent, I made my way into the barn.

“Hey,” I said casually, voice light. “Need help?”

Owen turned, a little surprised. “Hey! Nah, I’m doing fine.”

Lucas glanced at me quickly. “Hey, Oli. Yeah, could you help carry that box over there?”

I nodded, lifting it. He made sure my hands brushed his, warm and real. Heat zigzagged through me. I kept my face neutral. You heard it. It’s nothing.

Owen set a crate on a shelf and turned to the rake. “I’m going to check on Sofia. You can handle it from here.”

Before I could answer, he was already gone.

A heavy silence fell.

He leaned against the table, eyes on me. “You okay?”

I swallowed. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

We moved in a synchronized dance, as we finished the job he had started with Owen. But the tension simmered between us, quiet and deep.

After a moment, he spoke: “About last night,”

I stopped mid-sweep. “Don’t worry. I heard you and Owen. Nothing. We were drunk. I get it.”

He rubbed his jaw. “I was afraid you heard that. I didn’t mean it.”

“Look, I’ve had a hard enough time with trust lately. I don’t need this right now.” I said, sitting down on the empty crates stacked along the wall.

“How can you not trust it?! Didn’t you feel what I felt last night?” He said, and I involuntarily brought my fingers up to my lips as I looked down at my feet.

I felt his hand pull me up from the crates, steadying me as his other hand lifted my chin. Our eyes locked before his lips crashed against mine with a fierce urgency. This wasn’t a slow, tentative kiss like last night. No, he was trying to burn down the walls I’d just rebuilt, and I let him. I responded instantly, my fingers tangling in the back of his neck, pulling him closer, hungry.

The heat between us flared, a rush of breath and need, but in the split second that felt like forever, he pulled back with deliberate care, his eyes dark but steady.

He met my gaze. “I want you, Oli. I have for a long time. But I don’t want to mess up whatever this could be by rushing it.”

My breath caught. I frowned. “But you told him..”

“I know.” His gaze dropped briefly, almost ashamed. “I told him what I thought would buy us time. Time to figure out what this is. And then if you want to talk to him we will, but it’ll be on our terms, when we’re ready.”

His hand brushed my cheek as if to seal the promise, then he added, “I know this could be something real, something special. But I need you with me on this. If you’re willing to do this together, I’m all in. If not, I’ll walk away.”

I paused, the barn suddenly quiet. My voice was small, “I’m scared. But I don’t want you to walk away.”

He stepped closer, pulling me into a warm hug, his lips brushing the top of my head. “Good.”