Page 26 of Musical Games
‘I don’t.’
‘What do you do when your mum or sister cry?’
‘Mum only cries when I play my guitar, so I just roll my eyes. If Fiona cries, she’s usually hitting me at the same time, so I don’t have to do anything except get out of the way.’
Sam wiped her eyes. ‘We could always have a hug?’
He backed away and collided with the kitchen table.
‘Or not?’ Sam couldn’t work out whether he was petrified or horrified by the prospect.
He sat down on the other side of the table.
Well, if you were in any doubt about if he likes you or not, there’s your answer.She leaned back against the worktop. ‘Have you had any breakfast this morning?’ He shook his head. ‘Would you like me to cook you brunch?’
‘You can cook?’
‘Er. I’m thirty and left home at eighteen. It’s a pretty basic life skill to have.’
Jamie blushed.
Shit!Had she put her foot in it again? She went to the fridge and rummaged around. ‘Bacon, eggs, black pudding?’ She looked over her shoulder at him. ‘Any good? If you want any vegetables I could squirt some tomato ketchup on the side?’
He smiled and rubbed his hand into his hair. Sam itched to touch it.Why does he have to be so fucking hot?
‘It sounds amazing and I am hungry. But…’
She continued taking food out of the fridge. ‘But what?’
‘Mum doesn’t trust me in the kitchen.’
She made a show of looking at herself. ‘Yep, all confirmed. I’m definitely not you.’ He grinned and her stomach flipped.Oh my god, his smile…
‘She doesn’t really trust anyone.’
Sam waved a spatula in the air. ‘Well, I’m not just anyone. I’mspecial. I’m Sam Adams, star ofElm Tree Laneand bessie mate to the future Countess of Kinloch.’
‘Zoe and Rory are getting married?’
She shrugged. ‘I predict they’ll be married and pregnant by the end of the year. Have you seen the way he looks at her? Jesus. The intensity practically melts her clothes off. No one’s ever looked at me like that. Ever.’
He blushed even deeper and glanced down at his lap. Was she being too much again? She repressed a sigh. She wasalwaystoo much. She donned one of Morag’s pinnies and turned the stove on.
‘How do you like your eggs and bacon? Andunfertilisedis not an acceptable answer from a man.’ She heard a snort of laughter behind her and smiled.
‘I don’t mind. However they come.’
‘Unfertilised it is then.’
‘Are you eating?’
She shook her head. ‘I ate earlier with your mum. I think she’s trying to fatten me up. I’m a bit worried I’m going to wake up one morning with an apple in my mouth.’
She glanced over her shoulder to drink in his laughter again. It was like mulled cider, making her warm and drowsy inside. She needed to stop staring at him. She turned back to the stove. All-day cooked breakfasts were her specialty. She was quick and efficient, having worked in a greasy spoon café during her drama degree.
Everything was smelling delicious when the door flung open with a crash and Morag ran in, wielding a fire extinguisher. Jamie leapt to his feet to grab it from her. She was wide-eyed, looking around the room as if to check it was still in one piece.
‘Is everything okay?’ Sam asked.
