by Sue Brown
He kissed the top of Sam’s head, and the copper hair tickled his nose. “I love you, Sam.”
Chapter 20—Sam
SAM STOOD on the clifftop, staring out over the bay at the white foam-tipped waves crashing onto the beach below. Despite the sunshine and blue skies, he shivered and the hair stood up on his bare arms. He was dressed in a thin white T-shirt and jeans, no match for the autumnal breeze blowing off the water. His jacket was in the cottage, draped over the arm of the sofa. He’d forgotten to pick in up in his haste to get outside. He was tempted to go back for the jacket and the guitar and pour out some of the hurt and grief through his music. Sam looked back towards the cottage and then at the sea. He didn’t know what the hell he wanted to do.
It wasn’t long since sunrise, and he shared the clifftop with a few dog walkers and one or two joggers. Sam sucked in a lungful of salty air and hoped it would clear his head. He’d had maybe four hours sleep and woken up with gritty eyes and a muzzy head. It wasn’t hard to work out why he had insomnia. Sam had spent most of the night listening to the soft almost-snoring of the man sleeping next to him. This was the last time he would hear Gabriel whisper that he was falling in love with him when he thought Sam was asleep. Sam would return to his empty house, and Gabriel would spend day after day standing in this exact spot, monitoring the sea for anyone else in peril.
Last night had been special, but was that it? Was that all that they were going to share? Gabriel’s fluttering hands had told Sam another story—his emotional turmoil and his need for something he thought he’d never have again, a love he felt he didn’t deserve.
Sam had slipped out of bed as dawn lightened the sky outside the bedroom window. His head was full of cotton wool, and he needed fresh air before the drive home. The car was due in an hour, organised by the record company. They had promised him new management and a new team to take care of him, but they’d made it clear he was still under contract and he needed to get back into the studio as quickly as possible. How could he create music when he couldn’t remember anything he’d created before? He was still reeling from the knowledge that his brother had tried to kill him twice, just for money. Sam dashed away the angry tears that welled up in his eyes.
“I ran your life just so you could live inside your own head. What did you expect me to do, Sam? Be your puppet forever?”
Colin’s final words echoed in Sam’s mind. Maybe his brother had a point. He’d let Colin take care of everything, just expecting Colin would deal with the mundane while he created music in his head.
They were two little boys who’d climbed trees and built sandcastles together. When had they stopped being close? His tenth birthday. Another piece of the jigsaw of Storm Maitland’s life. He could remember it as clear as day, even as so much of his life was still a blank. His parents had bought Sam a guitar, and Sam’s world had changed. He stopped playing with his brother and spent hours holed up in his bedroom, learning to play. He barely noticed his brother growing into a teenager, dating his first girlfriend, and then off to university to study economics and business. He didn’t remember that. He’d read it in an interview about Colin. Bitterness had oozed from every word, and apparently Sam hadn’t seen it because his whole world had been about music.
“I’m sorry, Colin,” he murmured. “I should have been a better brother to you.”
The words seemed hollow and empty as the wind caught them. It was hard to believe his brother was dead and Sam was now an orphan. They’d had no aunts or uncles, no distant cousins. Sam was alone in the world, and no one cared if he lived or died. More tears, and this time Sam let them spill and didn’t wipe them away. He was allowed to grieve for the brother he barely remembered as a child.
And what about Gabriel?
They’d made love, shared confidences in the darkness. But Gabriel had made it clear that he’d never leave the cottage. He couldn’t leave his memories of Jenny and Michael. That left Sam back to his rock star life. It should have thrilled him to be returning home, but Colin was dead, and two members of staff had tried to kill him. Were there others on Colin’s payroll that he didn’t know about? Was he safe going home? Gabriel hadn’t asked him to stay here.
Sam shivered again, as much from fear as from the wind.
“You’re cold,” Gabriel said.
Sam didn’t turn around, not wanting Gabriel to see him crying. He tried to wipe his eyes without being seen, and said, “I left my jacket on the sofa.”
“Sam, look at me.”
He turned, unable to refuse Gabriel even now. Gabriel looked sleepy, and his hair was tousled around his face. Clearly he’d just woken up. He wore a black sweater, the sleeves pushed up to expose his tanned forearms, and faded black jeans. He’d not bothered to put on shoes, obviously not affected by the stones on the gravel path.
Gabriel’s eyes narrowed as he saw Sam’s tear-stained face. He opened his arms, and Sam stepped into them, needing the comfort of his broad chest and muscled arms. Sam buried his face in the crook of Gabriel’s neck and let the man rock him. Gabriel smelled of sleep and the lavender fragrance of the detergent he used. He muttered something Sam couldn’t hear, but it didn’t matter. All he needed was Gabriel’s arms around him, keeping him together.
“I’m sorry he hurt you,” Gabriel soothed, stroking Sam’s hair. “He was your brother. He should have loved you.”
Sam leaned against the solid fortress of Gabriel’s chest and let a few more tears soak into his sweater. This man who had lost so much was offering him comfort, and he needed it. Let Gabriel think his tears were just for Colin. He didn’t need additional pressure from Sam.
“It was my fault,” he sobbed.
“The bastard tried to kill you. How the hell could it be your fault?”
“I spent all my time composing music. I never paid any attention to Colin. We used to climb trees together.”
Gabriel held Sam even tighter, his fingers digging into Sam’s skin. “He tried to kill you for money. There is nothing that will make me forgive him for hurting you.”
“He paid the price.” Sam shuddered at the memory of Colin falling over the clifftop and his horrified expression as he realised his impending fate, the same fate as he’d planned for his brother. “That’s twice in less than a week you’ve saved my life.”
“Do I get a cape?”
Sam looked up to see the smile playing around Gabriel’s mouth and his eyes deep with emotion. Even in three days, he’d started to recognise Gabriel’s moods by the colour of his eyes. Now there was a stormy intensity that made Sam shiver.
“I’d accept a kiss if you don’t have a cape,” Gabriel said huskily and bent his head to brush his mouth against Sam’s.
There was no one near them on the clifftop, and at that moment, Sam didn’t care. He wrapped his arms around Gabriel’s neck, stood on tiptoes, and sank into the kiss. It was a brief press of lips at first. Then Gabriel captured his mouth in a searing kiss that melted Sam. He parted his lips under Gabriel’s questing tongue, tentatively letting their tongues slide and play with each other. The kiss went on for a long while until he was breathless with need—for Gabriel and for air. Gabriel cupped Sam’s arse with one hand and his head with the other. Was this a farewell kiss or an ‘I want you in my life’ kiss? Sam couldn’t tell, but from Gabriel’s moans, he wasn’t letting go of Sam anytime soon.
A cough penetrated Sam’s pleasure. He reluctantly raised his head to see Toby staring at them, one eyebrow raised.
Gabriel’s arms were still a tight band around Sam’s back. He scowled at Toby. “What do you want?”
“Sorry to interrupt.” Toby looked as though he’d just woken up too. There were dark circles under his eyes, and he was dressed in pyjamas and a hoodie and—Sam blinked at the sight—unicorn slippers. “Sam’s car has arrived.”
“It has?” Sam licked his lips. “Already?”
I’m not ready to go. Don’t make me leave.
“They tried your door,” Toby explained. �
�Then they came over to mine. I thought you might be here.”
Sam took a step back as Gabriel released him. “I… suppose… I ought to go.”
Gabriel nodded, his eyes hooded and his expression unreadable. “Yes.”
“Thank you,” Sam said lamely. It seemed inadequate after everything Gabriel had done for him. He tried again. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
Gabriel’s hooded expression didn’t change at all. “You’re welcome.”
Sam stared at him for a long moment, hoping, praying for any reaction, but there was nothing. After the passion of five minutes before, he might have not been there for all the emotion in Gabriel’s face, but Sam couldn’t tear his eyes away from him.
“Sam?” Toby asked.
“Yes, I’m coming.”
Toby nodded. “I’ll walk you to the car.”
An acknowledgement that Gabriel wasn’t going to. Sam smiled again at Gabriel, who didn’t smile back. Then he took one last look at the bay and followed Toby back to the cottage. A Mercedes was parked outside, tinted windows obscuring his view.
He could feel the questions bubbling up inside Toby as Sam picked up his jacket. “Spit it out,” he said wearily.
Toby gave him a long, cool look. “Are you coming back?”
“I don’t know. Gabriel—”
“Forget Gabriel. I asked if you were coming back.”
“I can’t stay,” Sam whispered.
Toby gave a curt nod. “I guess that answers the question.”
“Toby, I—”
“You’d better go.”
Sam stared at him, words hovering on his tongue, desperate to be spoken, but Toby opened the door, and Sam realised that was the end of the conversation.
But as Sam stepped over the threshold, Toby grabbed him by the arm. “Do you love him?”
“Yes.” Sam owed Toby that honesty.
“Then you’ll come back.”
Sam shook his head. “I can’t.”
“Then you don’t love him enough.”
Sam wanted to protest. It was unfair of Toby to judge him like that. He had a life, one that required him to be in the studio and then away for months at a time. He couldn’t settle down in cosy village life. He just couldn’t. But before he could say a word, a balding middle-aged man with vivid blue eyes walked towards him, a huge smile on his face.
“Mr Maitland, it’s good to see you looking so well.”
Sam’s fingers went to the bruising on his face in an unconscious gesture. “I’m sorry, my memory…. I don’t remember your name.”
The man didn’t seem fazed or upset. “Dave Hughes. I drive you around when your chauffeur is busy.”
A tendril of fear coiled through Sam’s gut. Was he friend or foe? His feelings must have been reflected in his expression, because Hughes stepped a little closer. Sam took a step back.
“It’s okay, Mr Maitland. I’ve been vetted by the record company’s security, and there’s a bodyguard in the car. I just thought you might like to see a friendly face first.” He pulled a wry smile. “I forgot about your amnesia.”
Sam licked his lips. “You weren’t employed by my brother?”
Hughes shook his head. “You’re not going back to your house immediately. The bosses want you to stay in one of their apartments until they’ve vetted all your staff.”
“And the two men?” Sam struggled to remember their names.
“Barrett and Mitchell are in custody on a charge of attempted murder.” Hughes gave a smile of grim satisfaction. “They’re a little worse for wear.”
He rubbed his knuckles, and Sam could see the bruising. The fear eased a little. He didn’t have to go home to a place he couldn’t remember and wonder if someone else was going to try and kill him. He studied Hughes and his open friendly expression. Maybe he wasn’t totally alone.
“Okay.” Sam managed a smile. “Okay, then.”
He turned to Toby, who gave him a sudden fierce hug.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Toby whispered in his ear.
“Take care of him,” Sam said.
“I will,” Toby promised. “I always do.”
Then there was nothing more to say, and Sam followed Hughes to the car. He slid into the back seat to discover a slim woman in a black suit sitting in the other seat. This was the bodyguard?
Hughes slid into the driver’s seat and turned to face him. “Mr Maitland, this is Helen Stafford. She’ll be taking care of your security from now on.”
He blinked. “I… thank you?”
She was twenty-five tops, with short dark hair and dark brown eyes. She looked like she should be a CEO’s personal assistant.
“Mr Maitland.” Stafford inclined her head. “I’m sorry we’re finally meeting under such difficult circumstances.”
He went to answer and then realised what she’s said. “You know me?”
“I’ve been in charge of your security for two years, but I always dealt with your brother.”
“Friend or foe?” he demanded.
Her lips twitched, but she said, “Neither. I’m the guard between you and the world.”
“Why didn’t I notice you before? Wait, that’s a stupid question. Have I met you before?”
“Yes, but we were never introduced. Mr Maitland….” She took a breath. “The other Mr Maitland insisted no one bother you about trivial details like security.”
Sam nodded. “It’s time I was bothered, Ms Stafford.”
“Just Stafford.”
“Call me Sam,” he suggested.
“Yes, Mr Maitland.”
Sam snorted. “Tell me about my security.”
As the Merc pulled away, Stafford started talking. Sam listened, not looking back.
Except the one time, and he wished he hadn’t.
Gabriel stood almost hidden in the shadow of the cottage, his hands in his pockets, his gaze locked on Sam’s car.
Chapter 21—Gabriel
GABRIEL WATCHED Sam give Toby a hug and then get in the high-end car. He didn’t miss the misery written on Sam’s face. He looked alone and vulnerable. Gabriel wanted to rush forward and beg him to stay, to save him once more, but he held back. This was a good thing, he told himself furiously. Sam needed to resume his own life, and Gabriel could get back to his. He watched the car drive out of sight and then walked slowly back to the clifftop to resume his position, staring out at the bay.
This wasn’t like losing his wife and child. Losing Jenny and Michael had torn apart his whole world. He’d only known Sam for five days, not even a week. He’d not had time to become a friend, let alone something more. Why did he feel so fucking empty inside?
The crunch of footsteps on the gravel told him he was not alone, but he didn’t need to turn to see who had joined him.
“Why didn’t you stop him?” Toby said.
Gabriel wasn’t surprised Toby had sought him out. Toby would never have left him to handle this alone. “Sam has his life to live. He’s a rock star.”
“He’s a young singer-songwriter who’s about to make it big. His brother and manager tried to kill him, and there’s no one who has his back. He’s totally alone.”
Gabriel glowered at him. He didn’t need Toby making him feel bad. Sam’s face had been enough of a guilt trip. “He has security. He has the record company.”
“That’s not what I mean.”
Gabriel knew exactly what Toby meant, but he couldn’t be that person. He’d barely managed to get out of bed for months after losing Jenny and Michael. If it hadn’t been for his vigil on the clifftop, he wouldn’t have left the cottage.
“I can’t….” Gabriel couldn’t complete the sentence. He couldn’t what? Be there for Sam? Be his rock? Love him? “I just can’t.”
Toby slung an arm around his shoulders. “You can. You just don’t know it yet.”
Gabriel rested his head on Toby’s shoulder. “I can’t take care of him. I can’t take care of myself.”
“You can, Gabriel, but
do you want to?” Toby asked gently.
“Jenny—”
“Is gone, but she would have loved him. You know that.”
Gabriel’s hackles rose as they always did when Toby made him face the cruel truth that Jenny was dead. But for once he didn’t confront Toby. Jenny was dead and she would have loved Sam. Those two facts were indisputable. He sighed and said, “I know.”
“She didn’t care that you’d loved guys before.” Toby squeezed Gabriel’s shoulder.
Gabriel knew that too. His beautiful wife had never had any issues with him being bisexual. He’d always been monogamous, and he loved his family with all his heart, including her brother and his husband. “I know that too.”
“Then stop feeling guilty.”
“It’s too soon.”
“Then forget about Sam.”
Gabriel raised his head at the edge to Toby’s voice. “You’re giving me mixed messages here.”
Toby shrugged. “I can’t make up your mind for you. You either want Sam or you don’t.”
“I don’t know what I want,” Gabriel said helplessly.
“You do,” Toby said. “You just don’t want to admit it.”
Katy Perry broke the strained silence between them. Toby pulled his phone out of his pocket and made a face as he looked at the screen. “Damien’s asking if you’re coming over for lunch.”
Gabriel shook his head. “Tell him thanks, but I need to work.”
“You mean you want to sulk here all day,” Toby snapped. “Well, it’s your choice. You know he’s going to cook for you and bring it over, anyway.”
Gabriel knew that. Toby’s difficult, tetchy husband would never let him go hungry. He’d lived for months on Damien’s cooking until one day he’d woken up knowing he couldn’t face another toad-in-the-hole again. That day he went to the local store and bought groceries for the first time in months.
“Tell him thank you.” Gabriel dragged Toby into a bear hug. “Thank you for stopping me walking off the cliff.”