Page 111 of Sing it, Sam

“Fine. I won’t ask him then.” My mouth pulls into a straight line.

“What?” Sam barks.

“You need to give him a break, Sam.”

“Who? Ben?”

“Yes, yourbrother, Ben. He’s doing the best he can.”

“Fuck, I know.” He scrapes a hand down his face. “I just wish it was like how it used to be between us. I love him, but sometimes it’s hard to take it when he treats me more like a misbehaving son than a brother.”

I level out my hand over Sam’s heart. It beats hard against my fingers. My touch seems to soothe him, from the slump in his shoulders. “Just think how he must be feeling,” I say softly.

Sam stares at me for a while, and then slowly nods. “Yeah, you’re right. Outside of my issues, sometimes I forget about all the fucked-up shit he’s had to deal with.”

Is there something I’m missing here? I know the boys lost their mother and don’t see their father often, but I get the feeling there’s more to it. “What do you mean?”

Sam’s jaw tightens. A myriad of emotions flashes through his eyes.

“Has it got to do with his ex-wife?” I probe.

His brows pull together, creating aV. “You knew he was married? Who told you?”

“No one. I, ah, noticed the indent on his ring finger when he came into the home the first time.”

He nods as if relieved that that’s my answer. Clearly, he doesn’t like people talking about his brother being married. “It’s just not my place to talk about it.”

It must’ve been a really nasty divorce. My blood boils thinking about how a woman could take advantage of such a kind soul, because I can’t imagine that Ben would do wrong by anyone.

I clear my throat.It’s none of my business. “Sure.”

Sam lifts my hand off his chest and pulls me closer. “Don’t take it personally, babe. It’s just some things are hard to get over.”

Moving my head onto his shoulder, I curl my hand around his waist and squeeze. “Of course. I’m too curious for my own good sometimes.”

Silence cloaks us as I imagine Ben’s heartbreak. I find myself feeling protective over the sheriff. If I ever cross paths with his ex, she’ll likely get a serve from me.

“So, you’re staying, right?” Sam asks.

I look up to meet his puppy-dog eyes. My stomach rumbles. Strong coffee on an empty stomach is not doing me any favours.

Sam pokes my tummy. “When was the last time you ate?”

I didn’t have time for lunch before meeting the girls, and I was in such a hurry to get here, the thought of food evaded me. “Um, I had a late lunch. Nutella cheesecake.” I grit my teeth together, realising it’s going on dinnertime.

Sam shakes his head and tuts. “Not good enough.”

“Shush. I was in a hurry to be somewhere, okay?”

Sam plants a warm kiss to my forehead. “And I couldn’t be happier.”

“So now that I’m staying, what are we gonna eat?”

“I’m up for anything.”

“’Kay, leave it with me,” I say and stand. “I’ll be back.”

I reach the door and turn to him. It dawns on me I have no idea if he likes wine, and if he does, what his preference is. “You drink wine?”

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