Page 62 of Waiting for a Prince
And it would stay that way.
Little by little, his tears ebbed until they’d dried up completely. He felt limp, wrung out, but happy that he’d finally let go of the emotions he’d bottled up for so long.
“Thank you for trusting me with this,” Sam murmured into his hair. “It means so much to me.” Then he straightened as four motorbikes drove into the car park.
Mark wiped his damp cheeks with his hand. “Looks like we have an audience.”
“What do you want to do with the rest of the day?”
He managed a grin. “Is that a serious question?” He yelped when Sam smacked his arm. “Hey!”
“We arenotspending the whole day in your bed,” Sam remonstrated. “Let’s have a late lunch somewhere, preferably with a sea view.”
“How about fish and chips on Shanklin esplanade?”
It was meant to be a joke, but judging by the way Sam’s eyes lit up, Mark had come up with a good suggestion.
“And then afterward, we’ll go to the amusement arcade. I might even try to win you something from the grabbers.”
Sam laughed. “Have you ever seen anyone win something from one of those? They’re rigged.”
“Yeah, but it’s fun trying.”
And right then, Mark wanted to have some fun.
I feel… light.
He’d never told another living soul about his parents, not even Sonia.
But Sam understands.
Another bond between them.
“You’re not going to win,” Sam said for the third time as Mark fed another pound coin into the grabber machine. He wished he’d never commented on the soft toy Winnie the Pooh, Piglet, Tigger, and Eeyore, but they’d been part of his childhood.
“Oh ye of little faith,” Mark muttered as he hit the button to send the grabbing arm backward. Then he hit the side button, stopping it after a second.
“You know why people feed so much money to these machines? Because the hooks grab on, they lift the toy for a second or two, and suddenly, your heart’s racing and the old adrenaline is pumping. Then they drop it, and you’re hooked.”
Then Sam’s heartbeat raced when the metal arms hooked themselves around a Tigger. He caught his breath, despite his common sense, and held it as the arm moved toward the chute, still clutching the toy.
It won’t get there.
It’ll drop any second now.
The arms let go—and Tigger disappeared into the chute, landing with a softwhumpin the receptacle near their feet.
Sam beamed. “You did it!” He crouched and pushed the flap open to remove the cuddly Tigger. “He’s wonderful. I love him.” He held it against his chest.
“Who said he’s yours?” Mark retorted.
Sam narrowed his gaze. “Choose your next words carefully.”
He chuckled. “I was thinking more along the lines of joint custody. Would that be okay?”
Warmth flooded through him. “More than okay.”
“Then how about we put him in the car, then go for a walk on the beach?” Mark’s eyes twinkled. “After we’ve left the window open so he can breathe.”
