‘An impasta!’ Sam winked at him, and Jacob giggled.
Clara found herself chuckling too despite the groan-worthy pun.
‘Ugh.’ Kaleb threw back his head dramatically, so that his hair fell back like a mop head. ‘That is so cringe.’
Sam was still smiling as he handed around the box of sandwiches. ‘Sorry, these aren’t as nice as the ones we got at Winterbury Abbey. I’m afraid my sandwich making skills aren’t up to much.’
‘They look fine to me.’ Clara caught his eye, and her heart gave a funny little wobble. He looked fine too. Very fine indeed.
‘Do you do a lot of sports?’ Clara asked the boys.
‘I don’t.’ Jacob munched a sandwich. ‘But I like riding my bike.’
‘I do some sports,’ Kaleb said. ‘Like I scored a totally epic goal at my last football practice.’
Sam ruffled Kaleb’s hair. ‘That’s my boy.’
‘Dad. You nutter. I’m thirteen, not three.’
Sam laughed. ‘Fooled us all.’
Jacob jumped and let out a cry as juice squirted down his bright orange anime t-shirt.
‘Don’t worry. It’ll dry soon enough. It’s a hot day. Flap it about a bit.’ Sam reached over and moved the upturned juice carton.
When the boys finished eating, they ran off to grab the tennis rackets.
‘Jacob gets a bit panicky if he makes a mess. His mum likes them to keep their clothes clean, which is completely impossible. She’s a bit OCD.’
Clara watched him for a moment as he packed away the empty containers. Why hadn’t he and his ex had more children? Maybe they hadn’t wanted to. Or was it possible that, like her, he couldn’t?
The thought sent a pang through her chest, and she wanted to reach out and hug him, but perhaps that wasn’t something he’d want in front of the boys. But she knew all too well the ache of wanting something that was out of reach.
‘Are you ok?’ Sam’s voice broke through her reverie.
She smiled and gave him a little pat on the arm. ‘Yeah, fine. Just happy being here with you all. They’re good kids.’
‘Yeah, they are.’ Sam looked over at them as they returned from the car with the racquets.
‘Do they ever see the… the biological dad?’
‘Nope.’ Sam shook his head. ‘They know he exists, but he’s never even seen Jacob. He wasn’t interested in staying in touch with them, and Olive was happy to get rid of him, though she could have forced him to pay. But she didn’t want anything else to do with him.’
‘I see.’
The boys bounded over, tennis rackets in hand and a canister of neon yellow balls tucked under Kaleb’s arm.
‘Right, let’s see what you’ve got.’ Sam pushed himself up from the blanket, brushing grass from his jeans. ‘Adults versus kids?’
‘You’re going down, old man.’ Kaleb twirled his racket with a flourish.
‘This old man’s still got it.’ Sam flexed a bicep.
How right was he? Clara watched him with hungry eyes. He was buff and looked jacked next to the two scrawny teenagers.
She accepted his offered hand as she stood. ‘I haven’t played tennis in ages either,’ she admitted. ‘Go easy on me, or I’ll be the one going down.’
‘Together, we’ll ace it.’
