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Clark shook his head as his son handed Clark a blue packet, running for Sam and high-fiving him.
“Hey, Dad? Uncle Sam said he’d take me for a ride on his motorcycle if it’s all right with you. Can I go?”
Clark’s smile dissolved and he shot his brother a narrow look.
“Not today, buddy. Why don’t you go listen to an audio book while I talk to Uncle Sam?”
“Okay.” Jace worried his bottom lip, then turned to Sam. “I’ll see you, Uncle Sam.”
“All right, my dude. Have fun.” Sam wrapped Jace up in a bear hug. “What audiobook you listening to?”
“A Goosebumps book.”
“Awesome. I love scary movies. I’ll have to introduce you to some of my favorites—” Sam paused when Clark cleared his throat and added, “when you’re a little older.”
“We can stream a Goosebumps movie tonight if you want,” Jace offered.
“I’m down.”
Jace walked past Clark, paused and ran back to hug him. “Don’t be mad at Uncle Sam, Dad. Please?”
Clark ran his hand over his son’s head. “I’m not, buddy. I promise.”
Jace kissed his leg and took off down the hallway. Clark didn’t say anything until he heard the door close.
Clark crossed his arms over his chest and scowled at his brother.
“I thought you weren’t mad.”
“I’m irritated.”
“Ah, subtle difference.”
“He’s seven. Too young to be on the back of that bike of yours.”
Sam stood up with his hands in the air. “I don’t mean to overstep, but you were about his age when I took you for a ride on it.”
“That’s because we had parents who didn’t give a shit if we crashed and burned.”
“Damn, you don’t trust me with my nephew?”
Lines formed around Sam’s mouth, the hurt on his face deepening his sun-weathered skin. Clark crossed to his brother and gripped the taller man’s shoulders. “I trust you. But I’ve seen the way other drivers are on the roads out here. They don’t look. All it takes is one of those idiots to cross the line on a curve. I never want to get that call about Jace or you.”
Sam’s crestfallen expression dissolved into a wide grin and he pulled Clark into a hard, back-slapping hug. “I appreciate you caring, brother. You’re the only one who does.”
The edge of sadness in that statement got Clark thinking about Sam’s life. Thirty-five, never married. Nobody to come home to. Clark knew he’d been wanting to start his own tattoo parlor, but other than that, he lived a solitary existence.
“I’m glad you’re here, Sam.”
Sam pulled away, all traces of melancholy gone. “So, you’re still okay with me crashing here?”
“You can stay here as long as you want, brother. My home will always be your home.”
“Thanks.”
Clark headed into the kitchen. “I’m going to make lunch. You want in?”
“I never turn down food.” Sam sat at the kitchen table and leaned back in the chair, stretching his legs out. “So, back to the girl…how big’s her boyfriend? Could I take him?”
