Clara met his gaze. ‘Everyone loves Sam, especially me.’
Sam set his mug down and pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘Clara.’ He shook his head. ‘You’re not supposed to keep saying that. We’re not faking anything here.’
‘Sorry. I couldn’t help it.’
‘What do you mean faking anything?’ his mum asked.
‘We’re pretending to be together when we see Dom. You know what he’s like? Clara’s helping me out there.’
His mum chuckled and handed Clara a plate with a piece of cake on it. ‘Goodness me, what nonsense. You two are very funny.’
A small smile tugged at the corners of Sam’s mouth. ‘Well, it saves me having to answer his three hundred questions about why I don’t have a girlfriend.’
Clara lifted her cake, casting him a sad smile. He could easily get a girlfriend if he wanted one, surely?
‘This looks delicious,’ she said to Moira.
Moira beamed at her and gave her a tiny wink. Clara wasn’t sure what it meant, but whatever it was, she liked it. She liked how easy it felt around Moira, just as it did with Sam. And for a moment, she wondered what it would be like to be part of this family. Her own family were wonderful too, but since her previous vile breakup with football-first Fergie and the Kerr fiasco, she hadn’t considered what it might be like having other people in her life like this. Whoever ended up with Sam was going to be extra lucky. Not only would they get a lovely man, but a beautiful mother-in-law with the sweetest heart.
Clara’s chest tightened a bit. She wanted that perfect person for Sam, but the thought also made her a little sad because she kind of wanted it for herself too.
Chapter Sixteen
Sam
Sam lounged back in his seat, looking out over his mum’s beautiful garden. Often he came down to Somerset in the summer with the boys when the garden was in full bloom, but it was nice to see it in spring when everything was starting to come out. Already daffodils and tulips had taken over the borders, and the bushes looked ready to burst any day. His dad had planted their garden in their childhood home in Yeovil, and it had always been a riot of colour in the summer. Dad had died long before Sam’s mum had moved into this house, but Sam was sure Dad would appreciate this garden. If only he’d lived to see it.
Behind the back fence, some ponies nibbled at the grass, flicking their tails as they made slow progress along the field. Sam turned his attention back to Clara and his mum, who were chatting like they’d known each other forever. Mum was like that. She always made people feel welcome and at ease. So did Clara. Little wonder, then, that they were getting on so well.
Voices from nearby sounded, and Moira got to her feet. ‘I think that’s Claire and the girls. Let me check.’ She headed inside.
Sam caught Clara’s eye. ‘You’ll love my sister.’
Clara smiled. ‘I’m sure I will.’
‘Oh my god, hi!’ Claire’s voice came from the door, and Sam jumped up to hug her.
‘Hey, you beauty.’ Sam lifted her off her feet, and she let out a delighted scream. He set her down again, smiling at her. She was as polished looking as ever, with a pretty, open face and warm blue eyes just like him and their mum. Her caramel-coloured hair fell in smooth waves to her shoulders, and her nails were perfectly manicured. A soft perfume drifted in the air around her. Sam turned to ruffle the hair of his nieces. Both of them had very dark brown hair, which they definitely got from their father.
‘Hello, you two. How have you got so big? Get back down.’ He gently pushed on their heads, pretending to shrink them.
‘Stop it.’ They giggled, pushing him back.
‘No, you stop. Stop growing. I insist.’
They carried on play-wrestling as Claire turned towards Clara.
‘Hi, I’m Claire.’ She extended her hand towards Clara with a friendly smile.
Clara smiled back. ‘Hi, I’m Clara.’
‘This is going to confuse me no end,’ his mum said. ‘Claire and Clara. I can see myself getting it wrong all week.’
‘Lovely to meet you, Clara. I’ve heard all about you.’
Clara made a cringing face. ‘Good things, I hope?’
Claire nodded. ‘All good, just not enough details.’
