Page 50 of Waiting for a Prince
“Yes, off you go. I’ll see you Tuesday morning.”
Mark grinned impulsively. “Thanks, Marie.” To his amazement she returned his grin. Mark dashed over to Sonia and gave her a quick impulsive peck on the cheek before diving out the door.
Even from across the street, he saw Sam’s eyes light up as he walked over to Mark, smiling widely. Mark knew he wore a sappy grin, but he didn’t care.
“I wondered if you might like to go for a drink.” Sam’s brow furrowed. “And I’m buying. That’s the least I can do after not being in touch all week.”
Mark snorted. “You are a mind reader. I swear, one minute I’m thinking how much I need a drink and the next? I look up to see you standing there.” He grinned. “Lead on.”
His questions would wait.
They walked along the street and turned the corner onto Union Street. Wetherspoons stood on the left-hand side of the road, and already the seats in the window area were filling up. As they crossed over, Mark gave Sam a sideways glance. “So… you gonna tell me what happened?” He gestured toward Sam’s eye.
Sam shrugged. “This happened a week ago, so I’ve almost forgotten about it. I got up at some ungodly hour to go to the bathroom and walked into the door.” He lifted his hand to touch the area around his eye gingerly. “It doesn’t hurt anymore. In fact, it’ll probably be gone within a few days.” He snickered. “Next time, I’ll put the light on.”
Why aren’t you looking me in the eye, Sam?
Then he did, and to Mark’s relief, he smirked. “Anyway, don’t you think it makes me look… butch?”
Mark guffawed. “That wasn’t thefirstword that came to mind, I must admit.” They entered the pub and Sam headed straight for the bar.
Mark had to smile. After all these weeks, he knew Mark’s drinking habits. Mark found the corner booth empty and quickly slid across the bench seat, claiming it. This had become their corner. Sam appeared not long after, clutching two pints of Wight Gold. Mark took several long swallows, trying not to gaze at Sam’s throat as his Adam’s apple bobbed.
God, he has a lovely neck.
Mark shook himself. Enough of the torture. That eye looked as though it had been sore. “Where’s Rebecca tonight? And why has she let you off the leash?”
As soon as the words escaped his lips, Mark cursed himself.
You keep doing this.
Sam tensed immediately. “She’s out with some of her girlfriends,” he said, his voice tight.
“I’m sorry, Sam.” Mark lowered his voice. “That was wrong of me.” To his dismay, his apology did nothing to improve the situation. Sam seemed ill at ease all of a sudden. Mark concentrated on his pint, draining it quickly. Sam said nothing but stared sullenly at his glass.
Mark leaned closer. “I mean it, Sam. Please, forgive me.” He bit back a sigh of relief as Sam finally relaxed a little, giving a brisk nod of his head before downing his pint. “Look, do you want to go for a walk on the beach? It’s a lovely evening.”
Sam pursed his lips, as if considering his suggestion. September was still clinging valiantly onto the coattails of summer: the last few days had been warm, the evenings balmy.
“Sure,” Sam said at last. “Let’s get out of here.”
They left the pub and began to walk down Union Street, which fell away steeply as it reached the pier. AutomaticallyMark headed toward East beach which was at the foot of his road.
The early evening sun was still warm on his shoulders. Beside him, Sam walked in silence, his gaze focused on the ground. As they passed the car park the two men went onto the beach, took off their trainers and carried them, the sand warm under foot as they strolled. The sunlight sparkled on the water, and Mark watched the catamaran as it made its way deftly across the Solent, heading for Portsmouth.
He fought the urge to reach for Sam’s hand, but let himself relax, simply enjoying Sam’s presence beside him.
Just let me enjoy this a little longer, he pleaded with whoever was listening.
“This is nice,” Sam murmured contentedly. “It feels as if we’re in a world of our own here.”
Mark’s heart stuttered in his chest.My thoughts exactly. He stopped walking and looked around. The wide beach was deserted, the tide already on its way out. Mark dropped his trainers onto the sand and turned to Sam, his heart pounding. Sam was staring at him, that familiar puzzled crease between his eyes. The sunlight glinted on his hair, and the evening light lit up his face.
And suddenly Mark knew exactly what he wanted.
His heart pounding, he leaned in close and cupped Sam’s cheeks with both hands.
“Forgive me,” he murmured.
