Where the Heart Is

Chapter 32

CHAPTER

32

As the first streaks of dawn stole over the horizon, Mila headed for her favourite thinking place.

The biggest eucalyptus on the farm.

She’d been drawn to this tree alongside the small dam since the first time she visited the farm as a five-year-old. It had been her parents first visit to Hills Homestead since her dad left his family home where he’d grown up and she’d been wide-eyed at the extent of the farm and the paddocks of lentils Gramps had shown her. He’d been the one to introduce her to the dam too, lecturing her about the importance of never coming here alone until she was old enough.

Turned out, that had been eight, when she’d bolted from the homestead in tears and headed for the dam after her parents calmly announced they wouldn’t be staying for Christmas, but she could spend the entire school holidays here. They’d thought it would be a consolation prize and they’d been right, because for those six weeks at Hills Homestead she’d learned the only people she could depend on were her grandparents and Will, and that her parents were the two most selfish people on the planet.

She’d been gutted that her family wouldn’t spend Christmas together for the first time and she’d sought refuge under the eucalyptus at the dam. She loved rubbing the leaves between her fingers and inhaling the pungent fragrance, she loved pressing her cheek to the smoothness of the bark, and she loved the warbling magpies that perched on the branches high overhead.

That day, not even the soothing sounds of the birds could comfort her, and she’d been sobbing her heart out when Sawyer found her. He’d come over to play with Will and seen her tearing from the homestead like she had a demon on her tail, so he’d followed her.

She’d been mortified he caught her crying, but rather than teasing her as expected, Sawyer had sat next to her on the ground and didn’t say a word. He waited until she stopped crying and when she did, he handed her a crumpled tissue from his pocket.

Looking back, that was probably the first time she fell for him a little, and when he’d plucked a gumnut from her hair and presented it to her like a diamond ring, she’d fallen even more.

He didn’t know she kept that gumnut and that she only pretended to hate it when he called her Gumnut from that moment, when in fact she loved having a nickname born from a special moment.

Because that moment beneath the eucalyptus had been special, for no other reason than she realised she could be herself in front of him and he’d be understanding. Will teased her mercilessly at that age, but Sawyer never did, as if sensing she needed people to depend on.

And in the ensuing years, she’d come to this spot whenever she needed comfort. Not that she needed comfort now, per se. But after the incredible night she’d spent with Sawyer, she needed to think.

Where did they go from here?

She knew what would happen. Their ‘morning after’ would consist of them reverting to their flippant best, maybe laughing off what they’d done. They’d share an affectionate hug, attribute what they’d done to two consenting adults having fun, and move on. Once Sawyer helped broker the deal for her land, he’d leave town, and she’d be left … what? Lamenting that she hadn’t spoken up and told him the truth? That last night had solidified what she’d known since their teens: they were great together.

She sighed and closed her eyes, images of the two of them instantly replaying: their frantic hands practically ripping off clothes in their desperation to get naked, his skill in adoring her body with his mouth and hands, the sensuality that made her feel wanton in a way she never had. Sex in the past had been fun but forgettable. Sex with Sawyer … surpassed every single fantasy she’d ever had.

The best part had been the intimacy afterwards, how he’d cradled her in his arms and they’d made small talk, laughing over shared memories. They had history and that meant getting physical last night changed everything. Sawyer wasn’t some short-term fling she could happily walk away from. Being with Sawyer had her craving more and that wasn’t good, because he’d leave all too soon and she’d feel lonelier than ever.

Everyone in her life left eventually. Her folks, Will, Gran—even Gramps had moved away from the farm. She knew it wasn’t fair, lumping Sawyer in with those who’d hurt her by their abandonment. He’d left a long time ago and was only in town on a fleeting visit as Will’s proxy at her wedding, but with the boundaries of their relationship changed, she’d feel just as sad when he walked away.

‘Thought I’d find you here.’

Her eyes snapped open to find Sawyer with bed-rumpled hair and a lopsided smile that twanged her heart. She’d been so caught up in mulling she hadn’t heard him approach and didn’t have time to assemble a game face, so she momentarily gaped at him.

He placed a finger under her chin and gently pushed. ‘I don’t look that horrific first thing in the morning, do I?’

‘You look amazing and know it,’ she grumbled, making him laugh. ‘Did you sleep okay?’

‘No,’ he murmured, their gazes locking, the latent heat between them instantly flaring to life.

‘That was some night,’ she said, wrapping her arms around her middle so she wouldn’t be tempted to reach for him, drag him over, and pick up where they’d left off.

‘Sure was.’

They lapsed into awkward silence and Mila could see the confusion in Sawyer’s gaze matched hers.

‘When do you move in?’ she deadpanned, noting his shock a second before she winked and their laughter defused the tension.

‘Hey, I’ve already offered to do that, but you wouldn’t have me.’ He clutched at his heart. ‘Which wounded me deeply, I’ll have you know, that you’d consider marrying Phil and not me.’

‘You’re welcome here any time and you don’t have to be a groom,’ she said, meaning it.

He knew it too because his smile softened. ‘This place was my second home. Better than my own, most days.’

He’d never revealed too much of his home life to her and Will and they’d never pushed. She respected his need for privacy because she feared if she probed he’d ditch her, and she’d liked having him around too much. But they were all grown up now and she was curious.

‘You never spoke about your family much.’

‘That’s because I preferred to forget how damn lousy things were at home.’ He sounded resigned rather than bitter. ‘Dad was a mean drunk. Mum was a doormat. And once my sisters left they didn’t give a shit about me.’

‘I heard your dad died in Melbourne. Is your mum still there?’

He shook his head, sadness clouding his eyes. ‘She met some guy from Christchurch and moved there a few years ago. She seemed happy enough the last time I saw her, but her new bloke has the same narcissistic, bossy tendencies as Dad. I hate to think she finally escaped Dad’s clutches only to get attached to another prick.’

Mila winced. ‘Sorry to hear that. Have you seen Allison yet?’

His guilty expression answered her question before he spoke.

‘Will you think less of me if I say no?’

‘I’d never judge you,’ she said, taking hold of his hand, an instinctive gesture to comfort that felt way too right. ‘We’ve all got crap in our lives and families are complicated.’

He stared at their joined hands for a moment before turning his over and intertwining their fingers. ‘You always had the ability to do this,’ he said, his tone wistful.

‘Do what?’

‘Make me feel better no matter how bad things got.’

‘It’s a gift.’ She smiled, but there was no levity in his gaze.

‘I mean it, Mila. You were the only person back then who got me, and I’ve never forgotten. Which makes what we did last night …’ He shook his head and looked away. ‘Last night was incredible but I’d never want to hurt you intentionally and—’

‘Hey, nobody’s getting hurt. We had an amazing night, we’re still friends, so let’s leave it at that, okay?’ She squeezed his hand, relieved when he squeezed back.

But he hadn’t lost the tension in his shoulders, his back ramrod straight, and when he looked back at her, she could see he was conflicted.

‘I know we joke around a lot, but I want you to know you’re special to me.’

Her chest tightened and tears inexplicably sprung to her eyes, so she did what she did best: deflect with flippancy. ‘Right back at you, lover.’