Page 47

Sam helped Hazel up the vertical climb and clambered up after her. They walked in relative silence, admiring the view of the ocean from the trail.

“Thank you for this, Sam. I’ve had the best day.”

“Glad you liked it.”

As they approached the car, Hazel dropped Sam’s hand and twirled around. It was a cringe move she knew, but she didn’t seem to care. She felt such joy, joy to be here, living in this moment that she couldn’t keep contained. Hazel took a deep breath of fresh air, tasting salt on her tongue. “I forgot how beautiful this part of the world is,” she exclaimed, her gaze travelling up to the top of the pine trees. A few puffy clouds had rolled across the brilliant blue sky.

“So beautiful,” Sam said softly.

Hazel turned to him and noticed his eyes on her. She tried not to blush. In a few strides, he’d crossed the distance between them, his hands gripping her waist. He lowered his mouth to hers and took her in.

“I wish this was my life every day,” Hazel murmured, her eyelashes fluttering under heavy lids as she gazed up at him.

“Why can’t it be?” Sam replied, kissing her again.

Hazel chuckled. “Because this day with you has been as lovely as a dream, and real life can’t be a dream.”

“Every day that I’ve spent with you is better than any dream I’ve ever had,” Sam whispered in her ear.

Hazel felt lightheaded. He pressed his lips gently against her temple, then strode past her as if he hadn’t just said that.

Sam sat in his truck at the end of Molly’s street. He had dropped Hazel at the door, driven down the gravel drive and passed a few houses before he’d had to stop and park. Engine idling, going nowhere.

He’d admitted it to himself already. I love her.

But at the rock pools, Sam had watched Hazel as she lay in the warmth, her eyes closed, and her face turned to the sun. He’d watched the way she’d sat up when her back got too hot, her wet hair cascading down her back. The sun shone on her, illuminating her silhouette like an angel.

He knew he loved her. But today, it hit him.

Sam exhaled slowly and put his foot down on the accelerator. The elation he should be feeling was tinged with sourness. Sourness of not knowing whether she was staying or going.

He thought about the comment she’d made earlier, about wishing her everyday life was like the day they’d just spent together. He’d replied with the truth, and he noticed the way she’d reacted. Hazel usually had a quick remark for everything, but in that moment, she’d had nothing. Sam hoped she’d think about that.

If he was a betting man, he’d put money on it that she would stay, but the tiny chance she might not, well, it was a bitter thing to swallow.

He needed to ask her, just flat out ask her. And he would.

She was getting there. He was sure of it. She was coming around to the idea by herself.

However, the fine line he was treading, making sure he was not influencing her decision, was taking a toll on him. He needed to know.

Sam turned onto the main road and drove.

He loved her. He’d admitted it now, accepted it fully. He needed to tell her. Let her know how serious he was. But he wasn’t sure how.

He didn’t want to spend the next fifty years with her, in love with her, for her to one day have regrets. Regrets about what she’d chosen because she believed he’d influenced her decision. He didn’t want her to resent him. Like his mother resented his father.

Hilary Parker constantly blamed her husband for trapping her. On the path to becoming a famous actress, or so she always said, she’d accidentally gotten pregnant at seventeen with Sam’s brother Harry. She’d begrudgingly married his father and gone on to have him and Dana. Happiness always seemed to elude her, and she’d only gotten more bitter with age. Constantly complaining about the life she could have had, Sam had long ago realised that she was the reason he had spent his life making sure he never influenced anyone’s decisions. The reason he’d always broken up with a girl as soon as he realised there was no future. He’d told himself it was a kind thing to do, not to lead any of them on. Which it was, but he’d be lying to himself if he claimed that was the only reason. Sam had dealt with his childhood, the impact of his mother, or at least he thought he had.

He’d always been able to have a hard conversation with a woman. He’d gotten quite good at it. But now, when he really needed to be upfront with the woman he loved, he couldn’t seem to summon the courage. It was dawning on him now that he’d always been able to have the hard chat because he’d never had any skin in the game. This time was different.

The thought of losing Hazel was almost too much to bear. He knew he’d have to tell her how he really felt. But bringing up the conversation about her staying was one he’d been avoiding, even if he knew it was time to have it. He had to do it soon.

Sam hoped Hazel had come to a decision, hoped it was the one he wanted. He felt like he was walking on the edge of a cloud, heaven right in front of him, bathed in an intoxicatingly golden glow. But if his footing slipped, even ever so slightly, it was a very long way to fall.

Salt kissed and starry eyed, Hazel traipsed through the front door. Her dry hair felt like straw as it skimmed across her back. She felt light, full of positive energy. Hazel had never felt this good.

Molly was in the kitchen preparing dinner. She had a pile of dill and parsley next to a chopping board where she was quartering tomatoes and slicing cucumbers.