Page 43

He’d admitted it to himself, finally said the words in his head. I love her.

Hopefully she could see it. He couldn’t tell her that yet. Soon though.

He would just keep paying attention, keep showing her how he felt. Keep making space in his life, space to fill with pieces of her.

Sam opened the front door as Hazel opened the passenger door. Bailey leapt from the seat and bolted in Sam’s direction. Sam bent down and gave Bailey a scratch on the head as Hazel moved towards them.

“Hi,” he said, standing up.

“Hi.” Hazel beamed.

Bailey pushed past them both and scurried into the house. Sam closed the door, and they followed Bailey into the kitchen. Bailey explored, stopping to sniff something every now and then.

“Come here,” Sam said as he pulled Hazel in for a hug. Wrapping his arms around her, she fit perfectly, like they were two parts of a mould. She looked up at him and smiled as he bent down to kiss her softly. He grinned at her as he pulled away, his calloused hand cupping her cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

“I missed you too,” Hazel replied.

Sam rested his lips on her forehead. A timer went off, breaking their embrace. Sam turned to the oven, and Hazel gazed around the open plan living room. Sam had set the table. There were two placemats and a group of lit candles of differing heights on a silver tray. Her heart warmed. No one had ever gone to this much effort for her.

“A couple more minutes,” Sam informed her as he sidled up to her again. He was behind her this time, his arms wrapped around her front. Hazel gripped her hands over his forearms, appreciating the thick muscle.

“Can I get you a drink?” Sam whispered in her ear.

“I’ll have some juice if you’ve got some. Thank you.”

Sam reluctantly let her go and turned towards the fridge. He poured her a glass of pineapple juice and set it in front of her. “I’m about to dish up. You can sit if you like?” Sam suggested.

“Do you need any help?”

“No. I want you to relax. I can handle it.”

Hazel grinned at his kindness and made her way over to the table. Dinner was Sam’s signature slow-cooked lamb shoulder with steamed greens and mashed potato.

“This is one of the best meals I’ve ever had,” Hazel confessed in a whisper, in case her mother heard her from the other side of town.

“Why thank you. I promise I won’t tell Molly.”

After they finished, she insisted he let her help to clean up. She opened the pantry to put the salt away, and noticed her favourite brand of crackers was sitting on the shelf in front of her. Yum. Sam likes these too, she thought.

She also noticed a box of the crème brûlée tea. “Hmm,” she muttered to herself, wondering if Sam also happened to like this particular flavour of tea. She turned and went to close the pantry door, but her eye caught something that finally made her stop. Up on the shelf, she saw a jar of sour worms. Pink and blue worms, yellow and pink worms. No green and orange ones, her least favourite. Did Sam know that? Hazel thought of all the times she’d snuck sour worms at home. She thought no one had noticed, but perhaps not. She always picked blue and pink first, then yellow and pink. Green and orange were only acceptable when there was no other option left. The different coloured worms were not the same flavour. She didn’t care what anyone said, and had even had an impassioned argument about it once with some random guy at a pub. It was a hill she’d gladly die on. But did Sam know this?

She knew she’d mentioned the tea to him, and they’d had those same crackers at the picnic the other day. She turned around. Sam happened to be putting leftovers in the fridge. She noticed a packet of the cheddar they’d had at the beach picnic, sitting on the shelf.

Sam turned around and saw her face. “Are you okay?” he asked hurriedly, rushing over to her.

She looked up at him, her mouth open. “The sour worms?” Her voice squeaked as she spoke.

“Oh, yeah. I know you like them. I might have eaten all the green and orange ones, though. I didn’t think you’d mind because they’re your least favourite.”

“How did you-”

“You’re always sneaking sour worms, Hazel. Molly and I see you.” Sam chuckled as he wrapped her into a hug. “I just got a few things so you’d have snacks here that you like. I hope that’s okay.”

Hazel pulled back and looked at him, her heart melting. “Of course it’s okay,” she eventually managed. Her voice came out steadier than she felt. No man had ever done anything this considerate for her.

Sam kissed the tip of her nose. “Come and sit outside,” he said. “I’ll light the fire pit.”

Hazel took his hand, following him out into the cool night. They sat, pressed together while the fire crackled in front of them. Bailey plopped himself at their feet. The trees moved with the gentle breeze, and looking up, Hazel noticed the stars glittering against the inky night. Hazel thought about all of her favourite things in his kitchen, things he had noticed about her and remembered. She felt his warmth as he wrapped his arm tighter around her.