‘Come on, Jacob, let’s go get the ball.’ Kaleb said. ‘I think it rolled into those bushes over there.’ He and Jacob ran across the grass.
Sam rubbed the back of his neck and scrunched up his nose in an apologetic manner. ‘Sorry about that.’ His eyes met hers.
Clara rubbed his back, then momentarily rested her forehead on his upper arm. ‘It’s fine. I don’t mind at all. It’s quite sweet actually.’
They played a few more rallies before everyone was worn out. Sam gathered up the tennis racquets and balls, and Clara folded the picnic blanket, while the boys grabbed drinks and slugged them down.
Sam took the rug from Clara and put it in the bag.
‘Listen.’ She checked the boys weren’t within earshot. ‘Do you want to come back to mine for a bit? You can stay over if you want.’
A small smile played at the corners of his mouth. ‘Sure, that sounds good.’ His deep, low voice sent tremors through her, as always.
‘Cool, and Skye will be happy to see you. She loves you almost as much as me.’
He raised an eyebrow, and she knew he was trying to work out if she meant Skye loved him as much as Clara herself, or if Skye loved him as much as Clara loved Sam… And really, Clara didn’t know herself.
She’d gone from throwing that phrase around as freely as a tennis ball to wanting to say it to him and mean every syllable, every letter.
But she knew he didn’t want that. Not when he would probably be moving on soon. He wanted transient fun. Something to enjoy in the here and now. And she was enjoying it too. It broke the monotony of life and had stopped her mooning over Kerr. And yet, her chest compressed every time she thought about the end of the holidays, and her heart ached. She caught Sam’s eye, and he smiled again. The pain inside her instantly ebbed.
Clara helped the boys gather their things, laughing as Jacob reenacted what he thought their fall had looked like.
When they were back at the car, Clara slid into the passenger seat and opened the window. The boys piled into the back.
The drive to Olive’s house wasn’t far, and the boys seemed too tired to speak much.
They pulled up to a modest two-story home with a neatly trimmed hedge, and Clara’s curiosity piqued, but a slight flutter filtered into her nervous system. This was Olive’s domain, a place where Clara didn’t quite belong.
‘Ok, boys.’ Sam turned in his seat. ‘Got everything?’
Kaleb and Jacob nodded, unbuckling their seatbelts and gathering their belongings. Clara turned to face them. ‘It was lovely spending time with you both. Thanks for teaching me your bowling secrets and letting me win at tennis.’
Jacob beamed at her, the dimples appearing on his cheeks again. ‘You’re welcome. Maybe next time you can beat Dad.’
‘We’ll see about that.’ Sam clapped Jacob’s knee.
The boys clambered out of the car, and Sam followed them. ‘I’ll just be a minute,’ he said.
Clara watched him walk the boys to the door, his tall frame slightly hunched as he listened intently to something Kaleb was saying. The front door opened before they reached it, and a slim, blonde-haired woman stepped out.
Sam hugged the boys, and Clara’s heart melted. The way they both held onto the embrace like they really didn’t want to part from him was so relatable. He kept his arms around them both as he said something to Olive.
‘I’ll be back for you on Monday.’ Sam waved to the boys, and they disappeared into the house, leaving him and Olive alone on the doorstep.
Clara tried not to stare, but curiosity got the better of her. She watched as Sam and Olive exchanged words. Olive’s gaze shifted momentarily, looking directly at the car.
Shit. Clara’s breath caught in her throat as she saw Olive narrow her eyes. She could just hear the words drifting through the open car window.
‘Is that her in the car?’ Olive asked.
Sam shifted his weight, his broad shoulders blocking Clara’s view of Olive for a moment. ‘Yes.’
Clara held her breath, acutely aware of Olive’s gaze boring into her. She offered a small, awkward wave, which Olive acknowledged with a curt nod.
‘Did the boys have a good time?’ she asked.
‘They did.’ Sam ran a hand through his hair. ‘I better go.’
