Chapter 22
CHAPTER
Kyle raised his hand in a wave as Cruz arrived at the first orchard.
‘I come bearing gifts.’ Cruz held out a small container of leftover mini quiches he’d cooked this morning.
After the mind-boggling night he’d spent with El, Cruz had needed to ground himself and cooking always did that.
It had been peaceful in the kitchen, listening to the warble of magpies as dawn broke and he diced sun-dried tomatoes, whipped eggs and cut frozen pastry.
Methodical, repetitive actions he’d done a thousand times before, but it had been different because he’d done it with a smile, remembering the feel of El in his arms, the smoothness of her skin, the sounds she made as he pleasured her repeatedly …
‘Wow, those must be some quiches by the goofy expression on your face.’ Kyle ripped the lid off the container and stuffed two into his mouth before Cruz could think up a comeback.
‘Mmm, good.’ He demolished the other four quiches in record time and patted his stomach.
‘Man, you are every bit as good as your dad said you were.’
Cruz must’ve heard wrong. Maybe thinking about El had addled his brain, because no way in hell had his father ever praised his food.
‘He talked about your food all the time,’ Kyle continued, oblivious to Cruz’s shock. ‘Raved about it, is more accurate. Said he ordered takeaway from your restaurant every time he was in Melbourne. Couldn’t get enough of it.’
Cruz wanted to say, You must be mistaken, but Kyle had no reason to make up crap like that. And it explained why he’d previously mentioned Cruz’s parents raving about his food, when Cruz assumed Kyle had meant Ferne.
‘You look surprised,’ Kyle said. ‘He never mentioned it to you?’
‘No.’
Kyle hesitated, as if he wanted to say more but didn’t know how Cruz would react. ‘He told me he only ever ordered takeaway because you two didn’t always see eye to eye, and he didn’t want to disturb you at your workplace.’
‘How magnanimous of him.’
‘I know you two didn’t get on, mate, but he was proud of you. He talked about you every time he got back from Melbourne, how he’d had the best feed yet again. Your crispy-skinned salmon was his favourite.’
That salmon was one of the most popular dishes on the menu at Tiles, so Mac hadn’t been lying, trying to make himself out to be a good guy to his farm manager; he’d actually sampled Cruz’s cooking.
Cruz couldn’t believe it. Mac had enjoyed his food. The thought of his father tasting his food but not being man enough to tell Cruz what he thought was classic Mac. Then again, would Cruz have listened if his father had reached out?
There’d been too much bad blood between them, too many years of Mac treating Cruz like a burden rather than a son, not to mention the way Mac had been dismissive of Ferne.
No, he didn’t blame his father for not dining in, for not praising him, but knowing that Mac felt he couldn’t talk to him about his cooking hurt more than Cruz could’ve thought possible.
‘Hey, mate, I didn’t mean to bring you down.’ Kyle slapped him on the back. ‘Let’s talk about more interesting things, like you and El practically running out of the pub last night. Have a good evening?’
‘I did once I left you bozos behind.’
Kyle guffawed. ‘Come on, admit it. You had a good time.’
‘An average parma, stupid trivia questions and reminiscing with a bunch of people who didn’t give a shit about me in high school?’ Cruz snorted. ‘Yeah, I had a ball.’
‘You sound like Mac when you’re sarcastic like that.’
Cruz frowned, not liking being compared to his father, but Kyle didn’t take the hint.
‘Robbo, Thommo and Bindi said it was great to see you. And they loved El.’
Cruz bit back his first response—Only Elora’s friends call her El—because he had no right to say who she socialised with or who she considered friends.
Besides, he’d seen firsthand how the gang had flocked to her last night. Even when Thommo had been giving her a hard time, Elora had held her own. He admired her ability to fit in, something he’d never been able to do. Heck, she even made him smile, and that was no mean feat.
‘You know, if you’re planning on sticking around for the next twelve months, it probably pays to be civil to people. You can’t spend all your time hiding away here, no matter how beautiful the place is.’
To Cruz, Kinstead Avocados had never been beautiful. He had once thought of it as a prison—one he couldn’t wait to escape from. But as he looked across the pristine orchards heavy with fruit, the rolling plains in the distance and the cloudless sky, he had to admit this place held a certain charm.
‘Maybe I’m growing soft now that I’ve turned thirty, but this place is pretty special.’
‘Says the man who can’t wait to offload it.’
He glared at Kyle. ‘My future isn’t here. I’m a chef who wants to own a restaurant one day rather than working for others.’
‘From what you told me yesterday, isn’t that what you plan on doing here, opening your own restaurant?’
‘It’s not the same,’ Cruz muttered, knowing a small, pop-up eatery highlighting the farm’s produce couldn’t compare to the buzz of a bustling, fine-dining restaurant that he wanted to open in Melbourne.
‘Hey, it’s not my place to tell you what to do.’ Kyle held up his hands, backing off. ‘Just pointing out that it’ll be good for you to hang out with the gang more often while you’re here.’
Cruz would rather hang out with El, but with her leaving all too soon, Kyle could be right. Having mates to spread the word about his restaurant would be smart business.
‘Last night wasn’t too bad,’ he said, and Kyle laughed at his begrudging admission.
‘I was hoping you’d say that, because there’s a bush dance this Friday to raise funds for drought relief, and I’ve put your name down on our table.’
‘That’s presumptuous.’ He never danced. Ever. Music was for motivation while whipping up a seven-course degustation menu, not for shuffling his feet to.
‘Guess I assumed you’d want to come, what with El already saying yes.’ Kyle grinned. ‘But, hey, if you’d rather I take your name off our table, I can do it—’
‘I’ll be there, bozo.’ Just because he didn’t dance, didn’t mean he couldn’t watch El move her lithe body to the music. In fact, he was already looking forward to it.
‘Now that we’ve got your pitiful social life sorted, shall we talk about the farm?’ Kyle pointed to the laden trees. ‘It’s time to organise pickers and packers for the next season. Shall I get onto it or will you do it?’
‘You do it,’ Cruz said. ‘I need to focus on getting more buyers for our produce.’
‘And the restaurant? How big are you envisaging?’
‘Small. In the spare shed nearest to the drive. I plan on showcasing avos in every dish—hoping that could potentially drum up business.’
‘Clever. Will El be doing the promo for it?’
‘I’m thinking about it.’
Kyle grinned, a crafty glint in his eyes. ‘That’ll mean she’ll have to stick around for a while longer.’
‘Your point?’
‘Give us all a chance to get to know her better,’ Kyle deadpanned, ignoring Cruz’s glower. ‘It’s okay to like her. And for some unfathomable reason, she seems to like you, too. Go figure.’
‘Are you done?’ Cruz had never had friends to rib him, let alone tease him about non-existent girlfriends. But there was something about Kyle’s easygoing, good-natured jibes that made Cruz wish he had, that he’d been missing out by not bearing the brunt of a mate’s teasing.
‘For now.’ Kyle pulled his phone out of his pocket and brandished it. ‘Better get onto advertising for pickers and packers.’
‘Before I forget, El mentioned that Bindi is looking for work. She seemed a tad quiet last night. Is everything okay?’
Kyle’s expression resembled that of a kangaroo caught in head-lights. ‘She came back to town last month and has been tight-lipped. Only hangs out with us as a group. Doesn’t say much beyond small talk.’
‘Does she know how you feel about her?’
Kyle’s eyebrows rose. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Everyone can see it. Maybe that’s why she’s keeping her distance? Doesn’t want to give you the wrong idea.’
‘Bindi and I have been mates a long time. Just because I haven’t seen her in years doesn’t change that.’
‘Have you kept in touch?’
Kyle shook his head. ‘She doesn’t do social media either, which is a bummer.’
‘Give her some time to readjust,’ Cruz said. ‘Take it from someone who knows—coming back to this town isn’t for everyone.’
‘It’s not the hellhole you make it out to be,’ Kyle muttered, frowning. ‘Some of us like it.’
‘I didn’t say it’s a hellhole, but I had my reasons for escaping, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being resentful at being forced to return. Maybe Bindi feels the same way?’
Kyle pondered that, before slowly nodding. ‘She looks a tad lost and I want to be there for her.’
‘Noble.’
‘Do you think she knows I still have a crush on her?’
‘Blind Gladys probably knows by the way you were staring at her last night.’
Kyle’s smile returned. ‘I’ll tone it down. Make sure she knows she can count on me as a friend, and if something develops, I’ll count myself lucky.’
Surprised that discussing his farm manager’s love life didn’t make him uncomfortable, Cruz said, ‘Thanks.’
‘For what?’
‘Welcoming me home. It helps that I don’t feel as alone as I did when I lived here before.’
Kyle nodded. ‘Any time, mate. Life’s tough enough without having to do it alone. The Galahs have got your back.’