Chapter 11
CHAPTER
11
Sawyer had no idea what possessed him to drive off like a hoon.
Actually, he did, and it had little to do with showing what his prized V8 engine could do, and everything to do with Mila’s honesty.
She’d had a crush on him.
And by the sly glances she’d cast him today when she thought he wasn’t looking, not much had changed.
So where did that leave him, considering the feeling was mutual?
It had been an unspoken rule between him and Will that his best mate’s little sister was off limits. Hell, it was an unspoken rule between most blokes.
But Will was a million miles away in London and Mila was all alone on the farm, doing whatever it took—including marrying Phil bloody Baxter—to save it.
Surely Will wouldn’t begrudge him sticking around to help Mila do that?
As he reached the outskirts of Ashe Ridge, Sawyer swiped a hand over his face. There was a big difference between staying in town longer than anticipated to help Mila come up with a solution to save Hills Homestead and sticking around because in one day she’d got under his skin all over again.
It had shaken him to his core, how much he’d wanted to pummel Phil. Maybe Mila couldn’t see how smarmy the prick was because she’d always seen the best in people, or maybe she’d wanted to save the farm that badly, but whatever her rationale, a huge part of Sawyer was nothing but relieved that one of them had come to their senses and called off the wedding.
At least Phil had done the right thing and shouldered the blame. But if Sawyer remembered correctly, nobody could look sideways in this town without someone pointing a finger and asking why, and that meant Mila would be gossip fodder no matter how chivalrous her neighbour had been.
Sawyer hadn’t driven through town earlier, taking the backroad to Hills Homestead instead, so entering Ashe Ridge now catapulted him back in time.
Nothing had changed.
The two-storey red-brick Main Hotel stood sentinel on one corner after he passed the Ashe Ridge sign, the supermarket on the other. The op shop and Chinese restaurant hadn’t been painted in fifteen years, the post office looked the same, and the three clothing boutiques hadn’t changed bar the fashions in the windows. Two small cafés on opposite corners bookended the other side of town, before he caught sight of the landmarks he hated the most.
Ashe Ridge Primary and Ashe Ridge High School.
His life had been a misery inside the walls of those institutions and even now he broke into a cold sweat remembering how utterly inadequate, how stupid, he’d felt every time he entered a classroom.
The only person who hadn’t made him feel dumb back then was Mila. She saw through his clowning around to the embarrassed kid beneath, a kid so terrified of being labelled a loser by everyone that distraction became his thing.
Even Will hadn’t seen beneath his joker exterior. His friend had stood up for him when kids teased him for being a dummy in primary school, and later Sawyer had fought his own battles in high school as he filled out and played centre half-back for the footy team. Turns out, the girls didn’t mind if he was all brawn and no brains, so he’d gone along with it, but it irked that most treated him like a shallow pretty boy.
He wondered if any of the old teachers were still around and what they’d think of him now. How he’d accumulated wealth through wise investing. How he brokered land deals that benefited all involved. He was damn good at his job and proud of how far he’d come from the laugh-a-minute kid who they thought would never amount to anything.
Thinking about land broking made him ponder Mila’s quandary. He had a few ideas, but he wouldn’t tell her until he had a solid plan in place. Even then, he’d need to couch it in favourable terms because her stubborn streak meant she wouldn’t accept his help.
Hell, he’d virtually offered to marry her himself but she’d shied away from that quick smart. Not that he’d meant it. Not really.
The Ashe Ridge Motel was another mile out of town past the schools, but he’d wait until after lunch to check in. He made a U-turn just past the high school and headed back to the pub, looking forward to dining with Mila way too much.
He hadn’t lied when he told her he’d kept up to date with her via Will. But there was a vast difference between asking his best mate an offhand question occasionally and sparring with Mila face-to-face.
She intrigued him like no other woman.
Not that he’d do anything about it. The last thing she needed while dealing with the fallout from being ditched at the altar was a fling with the town dunce, as the locals would see it. He respected her too much to toy with her, no matter how badly his libido insisted otherwise.
As he parallel parked outside the pub and got out of his car, he remembered the last time he’d entered the Main Hotel. It had been the last day of school and Will had insisted they meet a bunch of kids here for a celebratory beer before their exams kicked off in a week. He’d arrived before Will and sauntered inside, full of swagger and false bravado, because he knew everyone would be talking about the upcoming exams and the thought alone made him want to puke.
Not that he hadn’t worked in his final year of school. He’d tried, hard, but the more he tried to cram facts into his head, the more distracted he’d become. He was destined to fail and it gutted him, because he wasn’t stupid, no matter what his teachers and classmates thought.
That night had been the pits. Sure, he’d laughed and joked with his classmates, he’d won a few drinking contests, but he’d tolerated endless smart-arse barbs about what he’d do when his ATAR came back lower than his IQ. Everyone expected him to fail. Which is why he left town the day after the final exam and never came back. His results were nobody’s business but his and it had taken a chance encounter with a part-time tutor in Melbourne who ended up being his girlfriend to set him on a path to success.
He owed Cheraline, big time.
Not that she wanted much to do with him these days, considering he broke her heart.
Taking a deep breath, Sawyer slammed his palm against the pitted wooden door and pushed it open, the pungent aromas of yeast, fried chicken, and onions assaulting him. The pub smelled the same, though the flatscreen TV over the bar was a new addition, as were the five pennants for a regional darts competition.
He bypassed the sports bar on the right and headed for the bistro on the left. A few families were tucked into a corner by the ancient play equipment, and an older couple sat near the counter, giving him the pick of tables when a young waitress he didn’t recognise approached.
‘Table for one?’ she asked, appearing bored and exhausted simultaneously.
‘For two, please.’ He pointed to a quiet spot away from the families. ‘Over there, preferably.’
‘No worries.’ She grabbed two menus. ‘Follow me.’
When they reached the table, she said, ‘Order at the counter, drinks at the bar.’
‘Thanks,’ he said. But she’d already headed back to the kitchen, sliding her mobile out of her pocket on the way.
Unlike the main bar, the bistro had been revamped. Polished floorboards, pale green walls, forest green padded chairs, ivory cast-iron tables. It gave the pub a fresh vibe and he imagined the place would be packed on the weekends.
He’d barely glanced at the menu when Mila strolled in and his heart gave an annoying thump. She spotted him straight away and as she walked towards him, he wished he hadn’t stayed away so long.
However, before she reached the table, the older couple he’d spied as he entered stood and made a beeline for her.
‘Mila, sweetheart, are you okay?’ The older woman clasped her arm in a vice-like grip. ‘We heard the news and we’re terribly sorry, aren’t we, Barry?’
Barry nodded in agreement, but the guy looked so downtrodden he probably agreed to everything his wife said.
‘Is there anything we can do?’ The woman leaned in close. ‘You know, the best way to get over one man is to get under another.’
The woman cackled loudly and both Barry and Mila flinched, as her beady gaze zeroed in on him. ‘Speaking of which, who’s this?’
That’s the moment Sawyer recognised the woman. Anne Curruthers. The school librarian. She’d made snide remarks any time he’d borrowed a book from the library. Obviously, news spread in school about the kids who were brainiacs and those who weren’t. He’d avoided the place in his final years, preferring to use the prescribed texts online.
Mila fixed a polite smile on her face that came out a grimace. ‘Anne, this is—’
‘Sawyer Mann.’ Anne snapped her fingers. ‘Didn’t recognise you at first.’
Sawyer stood to greet the couple and Anne’s gaze roved over him from head to toe.
‘Well, well, you filled out rather nicely, young man.’ Anne cackled again and Sawyer shared a sympathetic glance with her husband.‘What are you doing back in town?’
Before he could answer, Anne’s eyes narrowed. ‘Ah, you must’ve come for the wedding. You, Will, and Mila were always thick as thieves. Too bad there’s not going to be a wedding, but I guess it’s gallant of you to squire Mila around.’ Anne winked. ‘Can’t have her back on the shelf for too long, am I right?’
Sawyer clamped down on a surge of anger with effort, and sensing his wrath, Mila laid a hand on his shoulder.
‘Sawyer’s always been the one that got away, Anne. Now he’s back and I’m single again, who knows?’
Anne’s eyes bulged and Sawyer suppressed a chuckle as Mila deliberately schooled her expression into faux nonchalance.
‘Now, if you’ll excuse us, Anne, Sawyer and I have some catching up to do.’ Mila’s hand slid from his shoulder to his cheek, which she patted with affection. ‘Be a love and grab me a chardonnay.’
‘Coming right up,’ Sawyer said, glaring at Anne so she’d get the message to leave them the hell alone. He should be grateful the old bag hadn’t grilled him on what he’d been doing since school.
‘Before we leave you young ones to get reacquainted,’ Anne winked, ‘what are you doing with yourself these days, Sawyer? You were never one for the books.’
His relief had been short-lived, and he gritted his teeth against the urge to tell Anne where she could stick her nosiness.
‘Sawyer’s made a squillion in land broking,’ Mila said before he could respond. ‘And he better be careful, otherwise I might drag him to the altar.’
Once again, Anne was speechless, and thankfully Barry murmured something in her ear before leading her away.
‘Why did you encourage her like that?’ Sawyer asked, equal parts chuffed and annoyed that Mila had leaped to his defence.
‘Because she’s an incorrigible gossip and I didn’t like what she said about you.’ Mila touched his hand, sending a little spark of electricity up his arm. ‘I love Hills Homestead and Ashe Ridge, but the small-town mentality I can do without.’
‘One of the many reasons I left and didn’t look back,’ he said, hoping she didn’t hear the bitterness in his voice.
When her head tilted to one side like she was about to quiz him, he forced a smile. ‘One chardonnay coming up.’
He felt Mila’s inquisitive stare boring into his back the entire way to the bar.