Page 71 of Musical Games
He thought about what he could buy in Kinloch for sixty grand. About the money he’d been saving to maybe buy a house. With this he could now afford a small place almost outright.
‘So, we just need to record them and send him a copy, and he’ll give us a hundred twenty grand?’
She laughed. ‘If only it were that easy.’
His stomach twisted with embarrassment.
‘We need to record them now and send them to Brad. He’s getting an arranger and producer on board, and we’ll record them again in London in a couple of weeks.’
‘What?’
‘It’s going to be amazing.’ She smiled at him. ‘And we can hang out together.’
‘How long will it take?’
She shrugged. ‘It’s usually two to three days per song, so maybe a week to ten days if we’re quick.’
‘To record less than fifteen minutes of music?’
The ground was shifting under his feet. Had he ever spent even a night away from home before? What about his mum?
‘What about work?’ he asked.
‘I’m sure your boss would be cool with it. It’s not that long.’
‘Sam, I’ve already been away from site for nearly two weeks. I can’t take any more time off. They need me.’
Her smile faltered.
‘And what about your job? How are you going to swing more time off?’
She chewed her lip. ‘I don’t know. I’ll find a way.’
‘Another dying granny?’
Her gaze dropped to the floor. ‘I think I’m maxed out on them now.’
He turned back to washing the dishes. He couldn’t look at her. He tried to think clearly, to weigh the pros and cons. The pros were spending time with her and the money. The cons were the more time he spent with her, the deeper he fell in love and the more memories he made to stab him in the heart when it was all over.
‘How would I get down there? Where would I stay?’
‘Oh, Brad will pay for everything. He’ll fly you down and put you up in a hotel. But…’
He felt her hand on his arm. Electricity sizzled across his skin.
‘You could always stay at mine? With me?’
He lost himself in the blueness of her eyes. How could he refuse? Love started and ended with her. Maybe he should just take whatever she gave and be grateful for it. He took the tea towel from her and dried his hands.
She swallowed.
He ran his fingers down the curve of her waist until he reached her hips. Her tongue ran out to wet her lips. He lifted her onto the counter and she gasped. He spread her legs and she pulled him against her with the back of her heels.
The door banged open and Morag backed in with the vacuum cleaner. They sprang apart and Sam leapt to the ground. Jamie plunged his hands back in the washing-up bowl.
Morag clattered past. ‘You not done yet? Don’t you need to record your music to send to wee Brad? You’re already a day late.’
‘Yes, no worries, Morag,’ said Sam. ‘We’re going to do it after we’ve done this.’
