He winked. “Thanks. I am going to tone up. You should see Noah’s body.”
Samantha sat up. He tried to ignore her shoes on his bed.
“Tell me.”
“Nope. That’s for me to know.”
“Spoilsport.”
“That is certainly not what he says.”
Samantha cackled. “I love this. Is his ass to die for?”
With a sly grin he turned to the mirror to perfect his hair.
She clapped her hands together. “I knew it would be. Oh you lucky sod.”
Samantha had been more than happy to ferry him to Noah’s. Sadly the Jeep had gone back to the rental company. He’d arranged for her to come early to help with preparations.
“Another thing. I need wheels,” he said.
“You’re on your own with that one. Not a clue, love.”
He thought to himself. “I’m sure there’s someone in that locker room who can help. I’ll ask Noah.”
“Look at you having your pick. Throw one my way.”
“You’re spoken for.”
“I’m not. I binned him.”
He spun round. “What?”
Samantha shrugged. “He’s so boring he’d put a glass eye to sleep. I hit my limit.”
Carmine sat down next to her and took her hand.
“You should have said. There’s me banging on like love’s young dream.”
“Not that young.”
“Piss off.”
“Don’t sweat it,” she said. “I wasn’t in love with him. Good shag though. I might see if he wants to keep that going. You know, until the next specimen presents itself.”
He shook his head. “You’re amazing.”
“I know. Now get a move on. We need to pick the food up and I’ve got a bubble bath with wine waiting for me.”
After one last mirror check, they headed off to Brockton. On the drive, Carmine made absolutely sure that Samantha wasn’t upset. In the end she convinced him. It was Barry’s loss. She was quite a woman.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Raoul had made enough food for feed an army.
“This is ridiculous,” Carmine said, laughing.
“It’s for Brockton FC, isn’t it?”
“Not the whole team, staff and supporters.”
