Page 9 of Benidorm Again

‘Congratulations,’ Luke says briskly, bowing his head again. ‘He’s a lucky man. If you could say your goodbyes quickly and follow me over, we’d all appreciate it.’

Liam grins back. He likes this sort of chivalry. We watch Bridgerton together. He totally loves anything to do with swashbuckling, firm thrusting buttocks and men in frilly sleeves.

Butthen, who doesn’t like a sense of whimsy? Prior to meeting Matteo, I was watching the Bridgerton buttocks scene on a continuous loop.

‘I’ll take these,’ Luke says in an authoritative manner, as he heads back to the bus with two of my four heavy cases. We watch him stride powerfully away, filling out the suit as though it was tailor made for him. The fabric strains against his shoulder blades and biceps as he carries my luggage as though it weighs nothing at all. He has the broad back tapering to a slim waist and hips silhouette of someone who buys a gym membership and actually uses it. Frequently. He barks orders to the other coach drivers which jolts me into action.

I hug Liam goodbye and assure him I’ll be okay. ‘A week will fly by, and we can keep in touch on the WhatsApp to put together the wish list for the Vegas schedule,’ he says, helping me carry my suitcases to the coach.

Ah. The schedule.

The schedule that I promised to do and send to everyone.

The schedule that can’t be done until Nancy gives me the exact dates, times and locations of all the venues we will be singing at in Vegas.

The schedule that must include a daily itinerary of pre-moon activities that we can do dressed as Kens and Barbies.

The schedule that must also include me trying to magic free time out of thin air to spend with Matteo, who has specifically taken precious time off work so that we can spend a romantic week alone undisturbed.

My heart begins to thump loudly in my chest. At least this mild panic attack about Vegas is taking my mind off my current predicament.

‘Your driver is a bit of a looker,’ Liam says, nodding towards the coach where he is waiting with a phone glued to his ear. ‘What is it with you and hot, bossy men? You’re like a magnet. Let’s hope they’re not like buses.’ Liam drags his eyes back to mine. ‘Anyway, love, you’ll be fine after a good night’s sleep. It’ll all work out. You’ll see.’

I hope he’s right.

BEEP. BEEEEEEEP.

‘Christ. I nearly had a heart attack,’ shrieks Liam.

Luke has raised his arm towards us and is pointing to his wrist.

‘What were you saying about hot, bossy men?’ I say. ‘Come on, let’s get a move on.’

Liam carries oneof the remaining cases to the coach for me, while I drag the other over, and we squeeze them in with the others. Multiple sets of judgemental eyes are peering down through the long windows at us, causing me to feel on edge.

Liam reaches out to give my hand a gentle squeeze. ‘Ignore them.’

But when I begin to climb the steps of the coach, Luke swoops in, holding out his hand to help me up as though it’s a horse-drawn carriage. He might be a bit impatient but least one person on this coach will be nice to me. I give him a wobbly smile and dab gently at my cheek in an endearing way. It was very thoughtful of him to give me such a high-quality handkerchief.

He clears his throat. ‘If your intention is to keep us waiting so that we know you’re the star of the show, then a word of warning,’ he says in a low voice, edging Liam out of the way. ‘We’ve seen it all before.’ He maintains eye contact for a little too long. ‘Punctuality is a mark of respect. And the Maestro does not like to be kept waiting.’

His words stop me in my tracks. My eyes flick behind me to an open-mouthed Liam. He too looks a little alarmed.

‘That was absolutely not my intention,’ I say, snatching my hand from Luke’s to hurry up the stairs, past the empty driver’s seat. He has put me right off bus drivers.

At least the bus is only half full, so there is plenty of space. I just have time to rush towards the back, to put some distance between us, when Luke follows me down the aisle.

‘Do you mind?’ he says, plonking himself right down across the aisle from me before I can answer.

Yes, I do bloody mind.

I look around. All the seats surrounding us are empty. Instinctively, I look out of the window to see Liam watching with his mouth gaping open as though I’ve just been kidnapped.

I just have time to mouth, ‘What the…?’ when the bus engine roars to life and with an almighty jerk we set off.

‘Shouldn’t you be driving the bus?’ I say to Luke. My phone begins pinging exponentially seconds into the journey. It’ll be Liam.

Luke is staring at the phone in my hand. It feels rude to answer it mid-conversation. Especially as he’s just, for want of a better word, told me off. Ridiculous to think that I’m giving social etiquette top priority, but as I’m panicking over what to do, he lifts his gaze to mine.

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