‘This is what she wants to wear to the night out, but do you see what she’s doing?’
‘I do.’ Clara smiled but felt a pang. ‘She’s so beautiful.’ She handed the phone back. ‘She’s very lucky—’ She caught herself. ‘I mean, you’re very lucky. You both are.’
Kerr laughed. ‘Yeah,Idefinitely am.’
Clara glanced up, catching Sam’s eye. He was watching her with a faint smile, but his eyes told her he understood exactly how she felt. Giving him the tiniest return smile and a little shrug of her shoulders, she held his gaze for a moment. He was the only person in the room who really understood what was happening in her heart. Though even he didn’t know the enormity of the pain threatening to crack open her ribcage.
‘I can’t wait to meet her properly on Friday,’ Clara said to Kerr. ‘Is she definitely coming?’
‘Yeah, yeah, she’ll be there.’ He checked his watch. ‘Right. Can’t hang about. I’ve got stuff to do.’
Everyone began drifting off – some back to their classrooms to prep, others slipping away early for appointments.
Clara gathered her things and joined the flow towards the door. The corridor hummed with chatter and squeaking shoes. Then she caught a faint trace of sandalwood and clean soap behind her – familiar, comforting. She turned and met Sam’s eyes just as his hand brushed the small of her back. It was so light she almost thought she’d imagined it.
He leaned in, his voice low near her ear. ‘How did your appointment go?’
Her heart gave an uninvited little skip. He’d remembered. Of everyone she’d spoken to today, he was the only one who’d asked. Warmth prickled behind her eyes. She hadn’t wanted to talk about it earlier, but a sudden rush of warmth surged through her at the thought that he’d remembered at all.
‘I can’t deny it wasn’t the best news,’ she said quietly, fingers catching on the strap of her bag.
His brow creased. ‘No?’
‘Nothing sinister. Just… not what I wanted to hear.’
He gave a small nod, his expression soft. His hand came to rest gently between her shoulder blades – not a hug, but close enough to feel the steadiness of him. ‘You can talk to me anytime – about anything. Remember that.’
Her throat tightened. She managed a wobbly smile. ‘You really know how to make a girl cry.’
His gaze held hers, calm and kind. ‘I didn’t mean to make you cry,’ he said softly. ‘But sometimes that helps too. And if you need a shoulder for it—’ he patted his lightly ‘—I’m here.’
A small laugh slipped out of her. ‘You’ve no idea how helpful that is. And I might take you up on it.’
‘Any time,’ he said.
Clara bit her lip, half tempted to tell him everything right there in the busy corridor. But a booming voice cut through the moment.
‘Miss Morgan!’
She turned to see Headteacher Gil striding towards her, his expression brisk.
‘Can we have a quick word?’ he said.
‘Sure.’ She glanced back at Sam, giving him a grateful smile. ‘Thank you again.’
As she followed the head down the corridor, the weight in her chest eased just a little. Sam really was a rare kind of man – one who made the world seem a touch lighter. And right now, she needed that.
Chapter Eight
Sam
Sam stepped out of his car and locked it, the soft beep echoing in the quiet evening air. The Loch View Hotel stood ahead, its pink façade glowing under strings of fairy lights that winked to life against the dusk. The place had a kind of understated grandeur and was well known around Glenbriar, but he’d never been here before.
Straightening the cuffs of his white shirt, he took the steps two at a time, trying to convince himself he didn’t feel out of place. Then he saw Clara.
She stood near the entrance, half in shadow, half bathed in the spill of golden light from the doorway. She was checking her phone, clutching a small handbag like it might float away. The deep red of her dress caught the light and shimmered as she shifted – a dress that hugged every curve and plunged just enough at the neckline to make his throat tighten. Her hair, normally smooth and practical, had been coaxed into soft waves that brushed her shoulders. And her eyes—
He tugged at his collar. Hell. She was stunning. Always was, but this… this was another level. A walking fire hazard.
