Extra Time. Michelle Betham

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Extra Time - Michelle  Betham

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because the last thing he wanted to do was mislead her. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.

      ‘Ryan… you and Amber…’

      This was a conversation he really didn’t want to get into, not with her, so he was happy when a striking-looking dark-haired woman materialised at their table with two more bottles of beer, smiling at them both before retreating back to her post behind the bar. She provided a short but welcome distraction, and Ryan couldn’t help but watch her as she began serving another customer, smiling and laughing with a group of people at the bar whom Ryan guessed were regulars. It was that kind of place.

      ‘Ryan?’

      He waited a second before turning to look at Ellen, that famous Fisher smile now firmly back in place. ‘Let’s finish these beers and go back to your hotel. Then you can show me just how much you’ve missed me. Okay?’

      She smiled back, relief once more quite evident on her face. ‘Yeah. Okay.’

      There was nothing like sex for taking Ryan’s mind off things. Nothing like it at all.

      Amber closed her eyes and let the burning sun wash over her skin. Sighing contentedly, she settled back on her sun lounger by the huge circular pool at the team’s hotel. It was the day of Newcastle Red Star’s final match in their pre-season tour of Spain and the Canary Islands but, thankfully, Amber didn’t have to start work until later, when she and Ronnie would be at the match, talking to some of the players and interacting with the guys back in the studio, live from the game itself, a game which was being televised in the U.K. that evening on one of the Cloud Sports channels.

      So, for now, all she had to do was relax. She couldn’t deny the nerves weren’t still there, though. This was a huge deal for her. She was the new face of football on a major satellite TV channel – for Amber it didn’t get much bigger than that. Cloud Sports had put a lot of faith in her, and she didn’t want to let anyone down, that was all. So far she’d been getting some great feedback, but those nerves were still going to take a while to settle down.

      ‘You look a bit apprehensive,’ Ronnie said, sitting himself down on the edge of the lounger next to her.

      She opened her eyes, pushing her sunglasses up onto her head. ‘Yeah. Thanks for that, Ronnie.’

      He smiled at her. Amber pushed her sunglasses down over her eyes and lay back again.

      ‘You’re doing great, Amber. Everyone back home is loving you, believe me.’

      ‘You’re not just saying that, are you? To placate me. I know what you’re like.’

      ‘As if. Anyway, you’ve done live TV before, haven’t you? Loads of times. Why should this be any different?’

      ‘I used to be on local TV, Ronnie. This is a whole different ball game.’

      ‘No it’s not. Where’s Jim?’

      ‘Team talk. They’re off to the ground for a training session in a little while.’ She sat up again, propping herself up on her elbows. ‘Why didn’t you bring Karen with you?’

      Ronnie looked away for a second, staring out at the sea view in front of him. ‘I’m working, Amber.’

      ‘Yeah, and so am I. But I’m here with my husband.’

      Ronnie looked at her. ‘Your husband is the manager of the team we’re following.’

      ‘So?’

      He laughed slightly. ‘Come on, kiddo. Karen doesn’t want to hang around while I’m working. She’d only get bored.’

      Amber sat up properly, pulling her knees up to her chest and hugging them to her. ‘She’d get bored? Here? Look at it, Ronnie. It’s beautiful! She could have…’

      ‘Leave it, Amber, okay? Just – just leave it.’

      She widened her eyes as she looked at him, slightly taken aback by his tone. ‘All right. I’m sorry. Look, is everything okay?’

      He sighed, pushing a hand through his hair. ‘No, and it’s me who should be sorry. Things are just a bit… a bit weird at the minute, that’s all.’

      Amber cocked her head, desperate to know what he meant by that but getting the feeling that, whatever it was, he wasn’t in the mood to talk about it. But she couldn’t leave the subject alone altogether. ‘All the more reason to bring her with you, then, surely?’

      ‘No, Amber. Don’t you see? If I’d brought her with me, if I’d insisted she come here, wouldn’t that just have looked as though I wanted to keep an eye on her? Keep tabs on her? Make sure she wasn’t…’ He stopped talking, looking out at the sea view again.

      ‘If it was me, I wouldn’t have seen it that way.’

      ‘Well, Karen’s not you, all right?’

      Amber frowned. ‘You’re happy though, aren’t you? I mean, you don’t regret marrying her again, do you?’

      Ronnie continued to look out over the stunning clear-blue sea that was dotted with the odd jet ski and a catamaran way off in the distance, no doubt out on a whale and dolphin sightseeing trip.

      ‘I’m happy, yeah. I’m happy.’

      Amber rested her chin on her knees as she looked at him. ‘Really?’

      He finally turned to face her again. ‘What is this, Amber? I came over for a chat not a frigging interrogation. Things are fine and I’m happy, end of story.’ He closed his eyes for a second, taking a deep breath, and although Amber badly wanted to continue grilling him over his slightly erratic moods, she thought better of it. Whatever was on his mind he quite obviously didn’t want to go into it here. Not yet, anyway. But she’d get it out of him, eventually. She always did.

      ‘Right,’ he sighed, leaning over to quickly kiss her forehead, giving her hand a small squeeze before standing up, shoving both his hands in his pockets. ‘I’ll see you later.’

      ‘Where are you going?’

      ‘For a walk. Clear my head before we set off for the match.’

      Amber watched as he headed back into the hotel, still frowning slightly. Something didn’t seem right, but she wasn’t going to push it.

      Grabbing a short, bright pink kaftan from the table by her side, she pulled it over her head and stood up, smoothing it down over her white bikini. She was tired of sitting out in the sun now. Being out here on her own was only giving her far too much time to think about things, to dwell on stuff that she shouldn’t really be dwelling on, stuff that wasn’t important. Stuff that didn’t matter. And some stuff that did.

      She was missing Debbie, too. She’d never really had a close female friend before, not until she’d met Debbie Hogan – part-time glamour model, North East socialite, gossip columnist, and new wife of Gary Blandford, Newcastle Red Star’s top defender and Ryan Fisher’s best friend. When she’d first met Debbie just a few months ago, Amber had thought there was no way the two of them could, or would, ever get on – Debbie was, more or less, your ‘typical’ WAG, if there really was such a thing, because Amber was beginning

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