Page 16 of Disarming Caine

I swallowed hard, the lump in my throat difficult to speak around. She was leaving me the out, as though it were even a possibility for me. “I love you, Samantha, and I’d wait for you until the end of time.”

“Good.” She nodded, wiping a palm across her face.

“Antonio!” Mario appeared again. “You need to come back to the room if we’re going to do this.”

I waved him away, more urgently. The day began with a plan to surprise her and figure out the truth. But I had the answer in front of me, clearer than I’d expected it to be, even at home. “I have to go, bella. Do you have Tuesday night free?”

She spluttered with laughter. “That’s a strange shift in conversation.”

“I’ll be busy until then. Can we have a video chat? Maybe date night?”

“I’m work—” A brilliant smile lit up her face. “No. You know what? I can move my schedule around to clear it. Six o’clock, like usual?”

I nodded as I stood, barely able to contain my excitement. “Wear the dress you wore to my parents’ house?”

She sat up with the laptop. “Wear your black suit?”

“I will. And I’ll see you Tuesday.”

My flight would arrive at five o’clock Tuesday. She’d be at her hotel at six, and I would show up at her door with dinner. It would be the best date night we’d ever had.

After hanging up, I threw on my sunglasses and raced back to the team. “Andiamo!”

Everyone turned to see me, surprise on their faces. Half an hour ago, I was moaning about everything being too loud and too bright. My conversation with Samantha had energized me, and I couldn’t get out of Italia fast enough.

Two more days, and she’d be in my arms again.

Chapter 6

Samantha

Slammingmytruck’sdoorshut, I glowered at the apartment building and punched the ignition.

“You are the pickiest woman in the world!” Lucy Chapman—my best friend and official pain in my ass—paired her phone to my truck’s audio system and scrolled through her music.

I pulled out of the apartment complex’s parking lot, resisting the overwhelming desire to squeal the tires. “I seem to recall you once taking twenty minutes to pick a flavor of ice cream.”

“Doesn’t count!” She started “Satisfaction” by the Rolling Stones.

“Are you kidding me?” I paused the music.

She blew a gum bubble at me and returned to picking a song.

“Their gym doesn’t open until ten. Who doesn’t let their tenants in at any hour they want?”

“And last week, you were complaining about a squeaky floorboard—”

“That wouldn’t have driven you crazy?”

“And what was it the week before that? Oh, right—” She held her phone up, showing she’d chosen “Creep” by Radiohead and pressed play. “You didn’t like the building manager.”

Huffing, I focused on the road ahead of us.

“I still say you should move in with me.” She popped another bubble, nose glued to her phone. “I know it’s just a one bedroom, but we could find somewhere bigger—”

“You think I could find a two bedroom more quickly than I can find a one bedroom? I’ve been looking for three months!”

She nudged my arm. “I could pick it for us!”

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