Page 117 of Sing it, Sam

Sam rises to his feet, naked as the day he was born … and by the look of his soldier, as hard as he was last night.

I tilt my head back to meet his heated gaze. “I got your back, Sam.”

“Will you scrub it for me? Soap me up?” he asks, popping thePin up.

I laugh at how ridiculous we sound, and what I’m about to say next.Do I dare make a note of this conversation for my WIP?“With pleasure.”

***

I make it to the showgrounds just before ten-thirty, and help Britt open boxes and display her oils and candles. When I tell her Sam was fine her smile is fleeting, she busies herself once more, checking numbers on a printed document which looks like a list of inventory. Maybe she’s embarrassed that the fall was nothing. Maybe she’s worried about sales. It’s her first year at the festival, so she doesn’t know what she’s in for. I don’t know her financial situation, but with a guaranteed influx of visitors to our humble town today, her goodies will sell like hotcakes.

I leave Britt around eleven and start my rounds visiting each stallholder. I’m wary not to eat too much, as I want to wait until I come back here with Sam.

At two o’clock, I get a text.

The Sheriff: We’re about an hour away. See you soon

An hour? Bloody hell. What’s kept them? I punch out a reply, even though I want to get on the phone and give them a mouthful for taking their sweet-arse time.

Me: Sure thing :p

I head home and finally rid myself of yesterday’s clothes. After a long steamy shower, I put my Smashing Pumpkins playlist on my iPod dock and let the music flow through the house. I move to the beat of “1979” as I run the hair straightener over my brown locks and put on a little more makeup than my usual BB cream and mascara. When I dab a touch of pink onto my angled brush, I stare at the natural glow in my cheeks and change my mind. It’d be too much to add blush. After a touch of dark brown eyeliner and mascara, I finish the job with Sam’s favourite cherry red gloss.

I slip on my square-necked black dress. Staring at myself in the mirror, I wonder if Sam will think I’m overdressed. The black R.M. Williams ankle boots I plan on wearing with it will make the outfit a little more fun and less formal. With my silver pumpkin charm necklace and Nan’s orange ribbon tied as a belt, my outfit is complete.I so wish you were here to meet Sam, Nan.

After pacing up and down my living room with Butch in tow for what seems like forever, the Marshall brothers arrive in my driveway. It’s a bit more than an hour since Ben’s text.

I step onto the porch, holding myself back from running into Sam’s arms. “Tonight, Tonight” filters out in the autumn air. My heart fills to the brim as I lay eyes on my man for the second time today. Heat rushes to my cheeks as I reflect on how close we’ve grown in less than twenty-four hours.

Both car doors swing open wide. Ben is the first to emerge in a black hoodie and jeans. He slams his door after him, and opens the back of the four-wheel drive. By the time he reaches the passenger side with the walker and a duffle bag slung over his shoulder, Sam is standing. The knuckles on his hand turn white as he grips the car’s doorframe.

Ben offers his hand. Sam swats it away, a scowl on his face as he clutches the walker.Must’ve been a tense car trip. On that basis, I decide not to give them a hard time over being late. I’m just glad they’re here.

Something furry brushes past my ankle. Butch bolts towards Sam. Butch gives him a good sniffing, then bounds about in hysterical excitement as Sam wheels himself up the path to the house.

“Settle down, Butch,” I say.

When Sam reaches the bottom of the stairs, he stops and looks up with his brow furrowed. “Is that … oh my god, it is the Smashing Pumpkins,” Sam says, and guffaws. His shoulders shake with silent laughter.

My dress kicks out at my knees as I take three steps down to his level. “All a part of the festival spirit, Sam.”

I loop my hand through his crooked elbow and guide him up the stairs until we reach the timber landing. Ben has the walker waiting for him at the top.

Sam’s eyes widen. “You look divine.”

I blow him a kiss as my insides melt.Divine.

“Why thank you,” I say and curtsy, holding out the edges of my dress with my free hand. “You’re in T-shirt and shorts,” I say, and scale my eyes over him. “Why?”

Ben moves to Sam’s side and guides him into the house.

“Don’t panic,” Sam says as he sits on the arm of my couch. “I brought some gear to change into. Didn’t wanna get it all creased on the drive.”

“Hmm. Good thinking,” I say and smile, and point down the short hallway leading from the lounge room. “The bathroom is first on the left, and my room is first on the right. Need a hand?”

“Nah, all good,” Sam says. Both men disappear down the hall.

Ben returns a moment later and returns to the car to grab another bag. When he steps back into the house, I ask him about the traffic. I figure it’s safer than asking what’s going on between them. “Not bad. There was a lot of congestion coming into town, though.”

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