Page 27 of Waiting for a Prince
He chuckled. “So many people up this end, and yet we had the beach to ourselves.”
Mark nodded. “Now you know why I go there. Apart from the whole getting naked thing.” He peered at Sam. “Was it a good experience? Something you might wanna repeat?”
Sam smiled. “Yes, and yes. I might even make this a regular thing.”
Mark beamed. “Good man. Anytime you want some company, just holler.”
They climbed the steps to the boat ramp, and Sam turned to take one last look at the far-off beach.
A beautiful spot, great weather?—
And a good friend to share it with.
Life doesn’t get any better than this.
The more time he spent around Mark, the more Sam liked him. As inreallyliked him. Sure, Mark was good looking, with that dark hair and even darker eyes, the tanned skin… But it was more than his looks. Mark was warm, loyal, kind.
The kind of friend Sam needed right then.
His phone buzzed in his pocket, and that was all it took to take the shine off his day.
Back to reality.
He wasn’t about to look who had texted him. That could wait until he got home. He wanted to enjoy the blissed-out feeling that had lingered all day.
Except he knew it was too late.
That vibration had already killed it.
Chapter Nine
Wednesday, August 14
“I’d forgottenhow 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.”
