Team Lucas (The Saints Team #1) (4 page)

“What now?”

“Have you actually moved in?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.

I frowned. “What do you mean?”

“I mean are you living here like full-time?”

“Yes.” I cocked my head on the side, trying to read him.

“There’s nothing around. Where’s your stuff?” He stood with his hands out.

“I’m clean. I like a minimalist area. Although a splash of color wouldn’t go astray,” I added. “Like blood red...”

“Right.” He glanced at my towel-covered breasts, turned and in the same fashion as before, stormed out yelling, “Meet me at the car in ten minutes.”

I waited a moment before dropping my towel again but he had definitely gone. I secretly danced with delight. I was going to training to see behind the scenes of a national sporting team and get work experience with them! I had done work experience each year but never with a client at this level of professionalism. This was good, so good. And the best thing, and it was a big one, was, I would be surrounded by super fit, super talented, super rich maybe, sports stars. Ah there is a God! I put on a clean set of workout gear, brushed and re-tied my hair in a high pony tail and checked myself out—yep presentable, even pretty hot if I’m not standing next to a supermodel.

I grabbed my bag and raced to the door. Lucas was already in the car revving it up. I raced around and opened the door, sliding into the front seat beside him. Pickle and preserve me now because I had never been in a car that cost half a million dollars before and I wanted to remember this moment forever.

“Seatbelt,” Lucas barked.

I reached for it in slow motion; I wanted to appreciate every second of this amazing experience. My brother would want to know about this—he was a ‘surprise’ baby and six years younger than me. At fifteen, all he thought about was cars and girls. Same as most guys my age I suddenly realized.

Lucas pulled out of the driveway and down the road towards the gated area which seemed superfluous to me given the beach access.

“Training is Monday, Wednesday and Friday at four-thirty at our club. Be ready,” he barked.

“Got it,” I said. “Only three sessions a week? Seems light on for a sports superstar.”

“The other days we do weights at a gym or train at different location,” Lucas said, using a tone that implied it was information already provided in the
Minding Lucas Manual
which I never got.

As soon as he cleared the gate and waved to the security guy, Lucas took off at some incredible speed.

“Holy, shit slow down!” I gripped anything I could.

Lucas grinned. “You don’t drive a Lamborghini to drive slowly, sweetheart.”

“Call me sweetheart again and you won’t be able to drive a Lamborghini or any car,” I said, between short breaths. I pushed back into the seat as far as I could, my knuckles white as I held on.

"Don’t worry, the steering in this baby is so precise and the brakes so touchy, we can handle a bit of speed,” he boasted.

Everything passed in a blur of light and speed. We stopped at a red light and he glanced over at my now probably very pale face. I looked around the car—my side, his side and behind.

“What?” he asked.

“We were going so fast I expected the pit crew to come out and change the tires when we stopped.”

He put his head back and roared with laughter. I couldn’t help but stare—that was the first time I heard him laugh. I’d only known smirks and scowls to date. I had little time to appreciate it as we took off again with the green light and he weaved his way to the club. We did the twenty mile trip in well under twenty minutes.

I got out and he locked up.

“This way,” he ordered, racing in to avoid the fans running towards him. I could barely keep up. We headed into the back rooms.

“Hello Mia,” Nik said as we passed the team’s dressing room and Nik appeared in the door in all his German glory.

“Hi Nik.” I gave him an appreciative smile; he earned it just for being Nik.

“Hi Nik, c’mon Mia,” Lucas called.

I rolled my eyes and Nik laughed. I raced to catch up with Lucas. He entered a large room where a handsome guy—probably around forty, with salt and pepper hair—was studying a young player’s leg. Nice leg. Another guy not much older than me was filling an inflatable pool with ice.

“Doc, lads,” Lucas addressed them and they looked up and welcomed him. The young player getting worked on gave Lucas a hero-worshiping look.

“This is Minder... ah... Mia,” Lucas corrected himself. He pointed to the men and named each one: the senior man was Doctor Chris Goforth; the pool ice filler Andy Mannering; and the hero-worshipping player on the bench was Harry Darr.

“How’s the leg, Harry?” Lucas asked.

“Better, much better. It’ll be fine for the game, won’t it Doc?” He looked sideways to Chris.

“I think you’ll be right to cause some havoc,” the doctor agreed. “Just try not to be too overzealous in pre-season training.”

“Excellent. See you in two hours, Mia,” Lucas called, leaving me there feeling like a new kid on the first day of school.

“Last year of study, huh?” Doc asked. “Where have you done your clinics?

“Yep, last year. I had six weeks with the Raiders—the ladies’ basketball team, and I did a clinic with the local public hospital, but I really want to be sports focused.”

“That’s great,” the doc said, “good for you.” He moved away from his patient. “There you go, Harry, better get to training.”

“Thanks Doc.” He sat up, and gave me a smile before he headed out... must have thought I was going to put in a good word for him with Lucas.

“Right then.” Chris the doc turned to me. “Let’s go and watch training for a bit.”

I tagged along feeling like a third wheel, something I was becoming particularly used to. We sat in the grandstand and Lucas transformed in front of my eyes. He went from being gorgeous and full of himself to gorgeous and so talented and caring of his team. He worked with the younger team members and gave them encouragement, stirred up the older ones; and, practiced his own skills—he was amazing out there. Once or twice he looked up at the stands where I sat and luckily I was watching just in case he was going to pull out a report card on the way home. It was so great to be even a third wheel here—just to see it first hand and sit next to the team doctor, not to mention drive home with the captain!

“Duck,” a loud voice yelled and the doc swiftly intercepted a ball coming our way and sent it back.

“You’ve done this before?” I teased him.

“Played a bit of soccer in my day.” He smiled.

“Oh no.” I put my head in my hands. “Don’t tell me—you’re a former national champion and I’ve just made a dick of myself?” I winced.

“It’s nice to meet someone who is not in awe.” He grinned at me. “Don’t worry about it. How many of these guys have you heard of before?” he nodded to the squad of thirty training.

I bit my lip before answering. “None; I didn’t even know Lucas,” I confessed.

The doc laughed. “That’s probably a good thing, and you’ll do just fine. When they finish training, they’ll go to the change rooms and wander in to see us if they need to. If you help Andy with some ice work that will be great.”

“I’d love to,” I said. “I’m guessing I’ll be tagging along a bit, so I’d appreciate all the experience I can get.”

“We’d appreciate the extra set of hands,” he said. “Though, you’re the first, um Minder, that Lucas has brought into the inner circle.”

“Really?” I turned to look at the doc. “He told me they all came to training with him.”

“Oh no.” Doc laughed. “Mrs. Compton—I think that was her name—showed up here one night to take a sample which just embarrassed him and was uncalled for. She did the same after a game, I believe, but no, he has never brought anyone, let alone introduced them.”

“Mm, good to know.” And here I was thinking he didn’t like me.

Chapter 7

I lay in bed looking at the ceiling, too excited to sleep. I met a lot of the team at training this afternoon; I even worked with some of them. The doc allowed me to assist in conducting an assessment of the midfielder, Josh’s, ease of movement and trust me, he moved just fine. I strapped ankles; examined the team’s defender, Jackson’s, injuries; and, massaged Harry’s leg post-training. The doc was a great mentor; I couldn’t believe my luck. This was the best two week suspension from work I’d ever had and it fitted my theory—everything happens for a reason!

Plus, drum roll please... Alice and I got invited to a party this weekend—a party at which all of the super league would be attending. I know, right? As it happens Lucas forgot to mention it to me or invite me even though I’d be on the other side of the wall... hmm. It was thanks to Nik I scored the invitation. As we—being Lucas and I—were leaving training, Nik calls out from the change room, “coming to the party on Friday, Mia?”

I looked at Lucas who rolled his eyes and explained: “we’re having a pre-season party at
my
place since we won’t be partying once the season starts.” Lucas put the emphasis on ‘
my
’ to remind me I was only a guest in the guest wing.

I tried for one of his scowls to give my smirks a break. I’m pretty sure I pulled it off.

“You can come if you want,” Lucas said.

“Great, see you there, Mia,” Nik called and gave Lucas a wave. He was a few years older than Lucas and not intimidated by him. Plus he was German; he didn’t look like he’d be intimated by anyone. He called again with an afterthought: “maybe you could bring some girlfriends if Lucas has room for more?”

“Why not?” Lucas sighed.

“Thanks, I will,” I said. “But they’re not models.”

“Even better,” Nik said, departing into the dressing room. I liked that tall, handsome German man. So nice.

“Earth to minder.” Lucas snapped his fingers in my face as I stared after Nik.

“What Puke? Sorry, Luke?” I snapped back at him and earned one of his sexy scowls. It was almost worth antagonizing him just to get one.

“We’re out of here,” he said, throwing his sports bag over his shoulder. We stopped out the front so he could sign some autographs for fans who had been waiting. Boy did he turn on the charm! You wouldn’t recognize him. Then we drove home, if you could call it driving... more like flying in his Lamborghini.

“This Friday night, at the party,” Lucas said to me on the way home. “Leave your testing kit in your room.”

“As if I would bring that out in front of your friends or anyone and embarrass you! Gee I might think you’re a total bighead but I wouldn’t humiliate you.”

“Yeah thanks, I think.” He frowned. “Some of the others did.”

“Really?” I asked, surprised. “That’s not on.”

Lucas shrugged but I knew it pissed him off. His jaw was locked and his grip on the steering wheel would have crushed a lesser vehicle.

“One of them walked into the dressing room right after our first pre-season game, after I’d given the guys the well-done pep talk, and demanded a blood sample in front of all of them.” Lucas shook his head. “Pretty hard to get team respect when that shit happens.”

“I won’t do that. I promise,” I said.

“Right. And at the party, just be careful—the guys can get a bit full on after a few drinks and they’re used to getting their way with women who pretty much throw themselves at them anyway. So if you don’t want that... you know... don’t go there...”

I nodded. “Thanks.”

Lucas did this slight chin movement which implied he’d done his duty by me. We didn’t say another word until he said goodnight to me at our adjoining door.

I slid it closed and leaned against the wall. I closed my eyes as I heard him going upstairs, and felt the intensity of my connection with him stretching and snapping as he moved away. I’m guessing it was one-way connection and Lucas Ainswright wouldn’t even remember my name in a month’s time—but one occasional smile or a look from those searching eyes made me want to dissect him and put him together again.

*****

“Mia!”

I had just pushed my bread down into the toaster when I heard a bellow from next door. That’s why he didn’t spend the money putting soundproofing in, he wanted to be heard and obeyed at all times.

Lucas yelled again, “Mia!”

I sighed and opened our adjoining downstairs door, then stopped. I raced back to the bathroom and grabbed a specimen jar and paper bag; if he was going to summons me, he may as well produce. He yelled again.

“I’m coming,” I called entering his side of the house. “Where are you?”

“Upstairs in the bathroom.”

Please, pretty please, let him be naked. I would put up with him calling me
Minder
for four weeks for that view. I took the stairs two at a time, stopping to admire the view on the top floor which was the same panoramic ocean view as downstairs only higher.

“In here,” he called.

I followed his voice along the hallway and found his bathroom. I stood back before entering.

“Are you decent?” I asked from the other side of the door.

“No, Mia, I’m naked.”

I took a deep breath before entering.

“Get in here!” he barked.

I walked in and he was sitting on the edge of a huge bath tub in only fitted black boxer-briefs. He was one beautiful specimen of manhood; this is what the human male body was supposed to be like—sculptured and gorgeous. I tried to focus on his blue eyes and not the package in his underwear.

“What took you so long?” he asked.

“I was toasting bread,” I said.

“What, with a blow torch?” he grumbled.

I gave him a pained look; it was slightly different from my smirk expression. I tore my eyes away from him and then I really saw the bathroom. Oh wow! If you thought my bathroom was to die for, this room was amazing. I could picture myself in that large bath with any one of the team... well maybe not Harry. He was a bit young for me but legal age if it did come to that.

“Holy shit this bathroom is amazing.” I turned around in it. It had an ocean view, a spa bath that you could do laps in, a shower with the biggest shower head I had ever seen that must give one hell of a massage and floor to ceiling mirrors. No missing a stray hair to pluck in this bathroom.