Page 19 of Where the Heart Is

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.

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