Page 11 of Waiting for a Prince (Island Tales #1)

Chapter Nine

“I’d forgotten how popular this place is,” Sam exclaimed as they walked toward the large field within the grounds of the Robin Hill theme park. “I haven’t been here in years.”

It was only six-thirty, but already the crowd was swelling.

Mark had attended the open-air cinema enough times to know if he wanted a good view, he had to get there early.

He’d been looking forward to this all day, and as soon as the salon closed, he’d made a dash for his car.

Robin Hill wasn’t that far away from Ryde, and out of season the trip would take about sixteen minutes via Ashey and the Downs Road, but this was August, when the population doubled, and traffic slowed to a crawl in some places.

Be honest. What are you really looking forward to—seeing a big plastic shark bite people in two, or spending time with Sam?

Stupid question.

Three weeks. I’ve known him for almost three weeks.

It seemed longer. Each time they got together only served to reinforce Mark’s opinion of him. He was happy to have found such a great friend.

But you don’t want him to be just a friend.

Mark was ignoring his inner voice more and more lately.

Sam pointed to a spot several feet away. “How about there?”

“Perfect.”

They spread out the soft picnic rug that Sam had brought along.

Sam set down the cool bag and Mark blew up the inflatable wedges.

Once they were seated comfortably, Sam removed two plastic tubs filled with cold chicken salad, tubs of coleslaw and potato salad, and a bottle of sparkling Elderflower cordial.

Mark smiled. “This looks fantastic.” He pulled a face. “What about dessert?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “I left the cheesecake in the bag.” He grabbed two plastic cups and filled them. He raised his. “To Steven Spielberg, a genius.”

Mark grinned. “I’ll second that.”

They ate slowly as the crowds gathered around them, everyone engaged in similar pursuits. Their meal was peppered with conversation about their favourite Spielberg films, and Mark was delighted to discover they shared yet more common ground.

Face it. You like everything about him.

That wasn’t true. There was one thing about Sam that didn’t make Mark smile.

He has a girlfriend.

Each time that thought came to him, it poured ice water on his growing crush, but that never lasted for too long. He only had to look at Sam, and it blossomed once more.

This is not good.

At last, the PA system announced the film was about to begin, and Mark did his best to concentrate on the huge screen. The opening bars of the music poured from the speakers, and next to him, Sam chuckled.

“That always gives me the shivers.”

Mark felt like such a girl when he jumped as the head rolled out from the boat. No matter how many times he saw Jaws, it always startled him. He glanced at Sam, only to find him smirking. Mark rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, laugh it up.”

Sam snickered. “Really cute, Mark.”

At one point Mark forgot about the film and stared up at the night sky in awe. The sky was a beautiful expanse of purples and darkest blue, the stars scattered across it like dust. There was so little light pollution across the island that the view was staggering.

Then he realized Sam was doing the same thing.

“Sometimes it’s important to stop and take in what’s all around you. Beauty is everywhere—you just have to look for it.”

Sam’s words hit a nerve.

I don’t have to go far to find it. I’m looking at something beautiful right now.

When the film ended, everyone cheered and then came the task of packing up and putting any rubbish in the bins provided. They followed the trail of filmgoers back to the carpark, walking past the rope tunnels, climbing frames, and slides that had been abandoned for the evening.

They reached Mark’s car, Sam’s parked behind it, but neither of them made a move to get in them. Sam stared up at the night sky.

“I feel so insignificant. So small. It makes all the stuff that clutters up my mind seem so unimportant.”

It was on the tip of Mark’s tongue to ask what occupied Sam’s thoughts, but he didn’t dare. It was none of his business.

I don’t want this night to end.

Except he knew that was wrong.

Let it go.

That was the problem. He didn’t want to let it go.

Sam’s phone buzzed, and when he made no move to answer it, Mark frowned. “It might be important.”

Sam’s face tightened. “It can wait until I get home.” Then he gave a half smile. “Thanks for this evening. I had a great time.”

“Me too.”

Sam unlocked his car but didn’t open the door.

Mark couldn’t stay quiet a moment longer. “Is everything okay?”

Sam blinked. “Yeah. Why do you ask?”

“Just a feeling.”

One that wouldn’t go away.

“I’d better go.” Sam opened the door. “Call me?”

“Sure.” Mark forced a smile as Sam got behind the wheel. He watched as Sam pulled out and got into the line of cars waiting to exit the park.

Mark’s senses told him Sam had just told a lie.

His instinct was to go over to Sam’s car and ask him if he wanted to talk.

Except he already knew what the answer would be.

Stop this.

Stop crushing on a straight guy.

You know what you need to do this weekend? Go to the mainland. To a gay bar. Get laid.

It was a solution, one he’d resorted to plenty of times.

Mark wasn’t sure it would solve anything.

I don’t need a quick fuck.

I need more than that.

Sam went into his flat and closed the door. His phone had buzzed about four times on the way home, and he knew he’d have to face the music some time.

He went into the kitchen and put the kettle on for a final cup of decaf tea. Then he removed his phone from his pocket.

One text from Dad, asking how far he’d got with the latest job. That was okay. Sam could talk to him in the morning.

There were four texts from Rebecca.

Sam took a deep breath and clicked Call . Before he could get a word out, she launched.

“Where have you been?”

“Out.” That was all she was getting.

“You didn’t call me today.”

He frowned. “Was I supposed to? I don’t remember that being part of the bargain.” He regretted the words as soon as he’d uttered them. Being bold was one thing.

Being reckless could steer him into dangerous waters.

Rebecca’s silence set his stomach roiling, and cold fingers inched their way over his skin.

“You’d better remember this.” Her voice was ice. “I know your secret, Sam. And if you want it to stay a secret, you’ll play your part.”

“For how long?” he blurted.

When she didn’t answer, his heart sank.

“Rebecca… I think we can call it a day. Your Dad?—”

“Sure, he’s all smiles right now. But you didn’t hear him seven months ago. He was serious. And I’m not going to put myself through that again. I don’t need it. Do you hear me?” Her strident voice made him wince.

Maybe he should tell his dad and get it over with.

It couldn’t be any worse than the torture Rebecca was subjecting him to.

Could it?

“There’s a party Friday night at Suzanne’s house. I said we’d be there.”

He knew better than to argue.

“Fine. Let me know what time you want me to pick you up.”

His voice sounded flat to his own ears.

Not flat—dead.