He rubs the back of his neck. ‘Have you gotta be anywhere right now, or do you think you’d have some time to talk? Maybe grab some coffee?’
I check my watch as I walk towards the car, even though I know I’m free for a little while. ‘My mom’s picking up Noah from school today, so I can probably spare an hour.’ One of the perks of having my mom move back to Willow Ridge with me—her eagerness not to lose any more time with me after so many years under my father’s roof where our relationship was stunted and restricted.
At that, his grin grows, dimples loud and proud beneath the close-shaven stubble on his cheeks. ‘Great. I’d offer to drive, but—’ he lifts his broken leg to show off his cast.
I unlock the car, lips dancing around the smile I don’t want to admit comes so easily around him. ‘I’ll drive, don’t worry. The flowers can make up for it.’
He opens my door for me, then grabs his crutches and hat and hurries around to the other side of the car, shouting ‘Shotgun!’ as if he’s not the only passenger.
‘So …’ Sawyer starts with a crooked smile, fingers tracing the edge of his coffee cup, around and around. He rests his other arm on the back of his chair, painting the perfect picture of nonchalance, while I can’t help but fiddle with the cutlery and napkins on the table, making sure they’re aligned, my nerves getting the best of me.
Hazy afternoon sunlight shines through the large windows of the main café in Willow Ridge, Sitting Pretty, the light dancing in Sawyer’s chestnut eyes and along his sharp jaw. Mint-green walls surround us, dotted with black and white pictures, and the odd chalkboard denoting special drinks for the fall. Excitement filled me when I noticed they’re still making their signature cinnamon apple latte. Soft chatter floats through the café, mixing with the sugary aromas and rush of steam from the coffee machines.
‘You’re a mom.’
‘Yep,’ I chuckle out, still sometimes as surprised by it myself even though Noah’s already six. I take a sip of my drink, relishing in the blend of cinnamon, apple, and a hint of honey.
‘How the hell did that happen?’ Sawyer practically laughs out the question.
I chew my lip, conscious there was a time when I thought Sawyer would be the one involved in that stage of my life. ‘Um … I accidentally fell pregnant in college. It wasn’t planned, but I’d been with Gray—Noah’s father—for a while by that point. He was pretty excited, said we’d make it work, and well … It just felt right. Like it was what the universe meant for me.’
Sawyer nods, smile faltering, but never disappearing.
‘Obviously, Gray got real less excited once Noah was born and he had to actually look after the baby,’ I continue, my chest sinking. ‘He took a job in New York without discussing it with me. Without thinking what it meant for Noah. So, he went, and we didn’t.’
‘Gray sounds like a fucking douchebag,’ Sawyer announcesto the whole café, too many tables immediately looking at us.
I smack a hand over my mouth to hold back my surprised laughter. Not that I should be shocked—he never could control his language, and I still haven’t completely shrugged off my father’s strict intolerance to swearing, even if I don’t really care. ‘Sawyer.’
He holds up his hands, but his wolfish grin is unapologetic and gleaming, eyes drinking in my amused state. ‘Sorry, Blue—I mean, Honey. Old habits.’
‘It’s fine.’ I shake my head at him, biting back my laugh and enjoying the lightness that returns so easily talking to Sawyer. Maybe we haven’t completely fallen out of touch like I thought. ‘Gray just wasn’t ready, that’s all. But I wouldn’t change anything. It brought me and my mom so much closer too—really helped us to deepen our relationship after recovering from everything we went through with my father.’ My smile softens at the knowledge that my father’s need to control me and my mom didn’t stop us from having a beautiful relationship one day. ‘Besides, Noah’s given me so much more than I ever thought possible. I know I never got the love I deserved as a child, but I think it’s healed me being able to give it to Noah. To love him unconditionally. I think it has for my mom too.’
That’s why we moved here. Because Noah is everything to me—he’s my life’s purpose, and I’ll do whatever it takes to give him the beautiful, loving life he deserves. I can’t have anything getting in the way of that.
‘Yeah, I bet,’ Sawyer responds, but he sounds unconvinced. He takes a long swig from his coffee, then sighs. ‘You had to call him Noah?’
‘I—’ I could’ve called him anything else, but the alter-egos we made up in high school always stuck with me. The name symbolised freedom, the chance to wield your own path, to chase dreams unapologetically. I wanted that for my son. I wanted that for myself. ‘I guess I just wanted to name him after someone that inspired me.’
Sawyer mimics tipping his hat to me in thanks, then runs his fingers across his moustache, as if to hide the smile that’s breaking out.
‘I still don’t get why you’d come back here. Ain’t it full of bad memories?’ With a wink, he boldly adds, ‘Aside from me, of course.’
‘Right.’ God, I almost forgot what a cocky cowboy he was. So sure of himself. ‘I think I knew I’d always come back eventually. We found out from family that my father left not long after me and my mom did, and … then he passed a few years back, so it wasn’t like he was here to stop us. Plus, Noah—he gets so shy, he doesn’t really like talking to anyone besides me, my mom, and his dad—and apparently you now.’
Sawyer’s laugh rumbles out at that. ‘I’m great, what can I say?’
I have to look away from his compelling smirk, knowing how easily it could draw me in again. ‘He struggled with making friends, which made kindergarten hard for him. He’s only really grown up around me and my mom, and we’re not exactly the most confident or loudest people in the world. I probably should’ve made more friends with other moms and—’ I cut myself off, trying to remember not to blame myself so much when it’s not like Noah’s dad has made any more effort to help him. ‘Anyway, since he’s so obsessed with anything western and the small town,cowboy vibes, for some reason, I thought maybe bringing him somewhere like Willow Ridge would be good. A fresh start. To make some better memories.’
‘Plant some flowers in the darkness,’ Sawyer mumbles under his breath, though I’m not sure what he means.
Then, I add, ‘Besides, you’re here still.’
‘Yeah, not by choice.’ He lifts his cast leg out from under the table. ‘Stuck at the ranch.’
‘Not … with your dad?’
‘’S’okay, I’m a grown man now—’