Love from Left Field (15 page)

He got out of the car, slowly to not hit his head or any other body part, and walked around to open her door. She seemed surprised by it, but took his hand to help her out of the car, a tingle of excitement accompanying her touch. He curled his fingers around her wrist and tugged her close. She stumbled into him, her other palm coming up to rest on his chest and catch her fall. Her face was inches from his, her head tilted up, a questioning look in her eyes. He lowered his head and covered her mouth with his.

Her lips opened in surprise, but softened immediately under his touch, and he took advantage, his tongue sweeping in to explore and seduce. He slid his hand up her back to cup her neck, his fingers teasing, stroking the soft skin. She moaned, her fingers curling over his chest, brushing his nipple, and he sucked in a breath. She chuckled against his lips and tugged her head free.

She looked up at him and licked her lips. “This isn’t over, is it?”

“It’s just beginning.”

He wasn’t sure why he kissed her, only that he wanted to remind her she was his and not some punk kid’s, who flirted with everything is a skirt. Whatever the reason, he had to do it. He took her hand and headed for the front door, hoping his mother was on the back porch or kitchen facing the ocean and not spying on him. He should have thought the kiss through before starting something he couldn’t finish right now. Now he had to sit through dinner with his mother, his body half-hard with arousal, his trousers not hiding a damn thing.

Before he could adjust himself, his mother opened the door, her arms wide. He shifted so Miranda was slightly in front of him and he marched them up the walkway so she couldn’t change her mind and bolt.

*

Miranda’s face heated
from the scorching kiss they had just shared. More than a usual kiss, she felt branded, possessed by his lips, as if he was telling her that she was his. He must have been more affected by her time spent with the team than she had expected. As if she would consider dating any player from the Knights, or any other player for that matter. She appreciated their skills and the physique, but she preferred a uniform of a different sort. Give her a man in a perfectly fitting suit and tie or, even better, a tuxedo, and she was putty in their hands.

Just thinking about Lucas in a tux made her shudder and her panties dampen. The man was dangerous enough in a suit, but he’d be downright lethal in a tux.

Must shift thoughts to anything but Lucas and that kiss
. The door opened and his mother stood there, arms open, her gaze holding a knowing glint. Damn, she’d seen the kiss and was now match making. Miranda’s feet dragged, but Lucas steered her relentlessly towards the doorway and the hug Mrs. Wainright was determined to give. It had been many years since she’d seen Lucas’s mother and she wasn’t sure how to act with the woman who had once been almost a member of the family. As usual, the older woman took care of the decision for her, pulling Miranda close, her grip strong and comforting. Miranda found herself softening into the embrace, emotions from the past few weeks threatening to overwhelm her.

Finally, they separated and Mrs. Wainright held Miranda out at arm’s length, studying her through sympathetic eyes. “Miranda, honey, I was so sorry to hear about your father. How are he and your mother doing? I was going to call, but I know how crazy life is when they’re in the hospital.”

“Dad’s home now, probably driving my mother crazy. I hired an aide to help out. My father can be a bit demanding.” They all grinned at her words, familiar with Seamus’s controlling ways.

Lucas’s hand burned on the small of her back, his thumb gently caressing her, soothing her, through the silk of her blouse. All she wanted to do was close the door and continue their kiss. Judging by his smirk, he knew it, too. Two could play his game. She leaned into him. She could hide her arousal, but he couldn’t and, since he was keeping her slightly in front of him, he was definitely hiding. Time to expose the rat fink.

She stepped to the side, just out of Lucas’s reach. “I know my mother will be grateful to hear from you.”

“Yes, all men can be difficult when they’re sick. I remember Jacob, going through the cancer. Lord, that man could test a saint. He’d had the most even of tempers until he got sick then no one wanted to be around him. We had a terrible time keeping aides on staff. I ended up doing most of the care.”

Lucas stiffened, his hand clenching Miranda’s waist. “I didn’t know you needed help. Mom, I would have come home.”

“Nonsense. I handled it just fine. I’m not a shrinking violet, dear. And your brother and sister helped out, too, until they left for college.” She waved her hand, dismissing his concerns. “No, your father was so proud of you for getting into Harvard. He would never have allowed you to come home.”

She stepped inside and gestured for them to come in. “Where are my manners? Keeping you on the doorstep like church people come to save me. Come in!”

Miranda walked into the house, Lucas right on her heels, still stiff and silent.

“Thank you for having us, Mrs. Wainright. I never wanted you to go to any trouble. We could go out to eat.”

“Absolutely not. It’s not every day that my son comes to Florida to visit his poor mother. I’m just glad you got him down here this year! And, please, call me Trudy. You always called me that before.” A trace of wistfulness glistened in her eyes before waved them towards the deck. “Go out on the deck while I bring out some drinks. Is lemonade okay?”

Lucas escorted Miranda through the house, light streaming in from many windows and skylights. The interior was almost all white with oak accents. The hardwood floor was also oak to match the wood furniture and accent pieces, lending the place an open, airy feel. Yet the white didn’t make her feel like it was a showroom but a place to be lived in.

On the deck, Miranda sank onto a white wicker chair with a long sigh, closed her eyes and rested her head on the cushion behind her head. “God, this has been a long day.”

“Aren’t you glad we came here instead of a stuffy restaurant?” Lucas leaned against the railing, crossing one foot in front of the other, hands hanging loosely by his side.

She opened one eye. “I guess. Still, bringing me to your mother’s house? Yes, we knew each other but this is still awkward. And what was with that kiss? Now she thinks we’re dating or something.”

He shrugged, a typical nonchalant look of a guy who just didn’t get why his woman was pissed off. “I needed to see her and we needed to eat. She doesn’t think anything else.”

“Really?” Miranda snorted. “You know nothing, Lucas Wainright. Your mother sees a match. She wants grandchildren. Even if she didn’t before, now she does. Just wait.”

Trudy chose that moment to tap on the sliding glass window, a tray of drinks in her hand. Lucas pushed off the railing and opened the door, taking the tray from her and putting it on the table.

“Thank you, dear. That was heavier than I thought. I made my special lemonade. My bridge club loves it.” She laughed. “Yes, I play bridge. You can’t get more ‘old lady’ than that!”

“Only if you crochet or knit,” Lucas replied.

Trudy lightly tapped him on the arm. “Shoot, you spoiled my surprise. Well, act surprised later.”

Miranda stifled a laugh at Lucas’s horrified expression. Trudy handed them each a glass of lemonade and sat in another one of the chairs. Lucas took a healthy swallow then choked and spit out some of the liquid. Miranda eyed her glass a little more carefully, deciding to sip instead of downing it.

“Mom, what the hell?”

“So I added a little vodka. I thought you young people would like it. It’s that expensive kind, the bird kind. Goose something. The girls like it.”

“Maybe you and the girls should go to AA meetings instead of playing bridge.” Lucas grumbled under his breath, earning him a sharp look from Trudy.

Miranda took another sip of her drink. “Well, I think it’s exactly what I needed today, Trudy. Perfect drink – refreshing and light. Thank you.”

“At least one of you has remembered the manners you were raised with.” Trudy sniffed, still glaring at Lucas out of the corner of her eye. “So, Miranda, how is the team looking this year? I confess, being in Florida, I haven’t kept up with baseball except the occasional news from spring training. Is my son treating you right and doing right by the Knights?”

Miranda crossed one leg over the other and held her knee with her hands. “Well, we had a bit of a rocky start, but I think we’re settling in nicely.”

“You tell me if he gets out of line, Miranda. I raised him better than that. Now, shall we get dinner on? Since Lucas is here, I thought he could grill some steaks and you and I can do some of the side dishes in the kitchen.”

Miranda leapt to her feet. “I’d be happy to, Trudy.” Trudy linked her arm with Miranda and escorted her into the kitchen, Lucas trailing behind.

*

Miranda watched Lucas
man the grill through the kitchen window. Trudy had the meal well in hand, but she had Miranda peel some cucumbers for the salad, more as a way to keep her in the kitchen. Like most mothers, Trudy could give lessons to the CIA with her interrogation techniques. After deflecting the relationship question for the third time, Miranda was longing for the outside and quiet. As if sensing her mood, Trudy jutted her chin to the sliding glass doors.

“You’ve had a long day, dear. Take your drink and sit on the deck. You look like you could use a rest.”

Miranda gratefully nodded, the stress of the day, the travel, the meetings, the scrutiny, all catching up with her. She took her drink and a few dishes for dinner and headed outside. Lucas slid open the door for her. She put everything on the table and went back to the chaise lounge. She closed her eyes and enjoyed the heat from the setting sun seeping into her skin.

Wouldn’t her father have been surprised to see her today, acting as anything but a figurehead? She was taking control of the team, being the leader, the president she had always wanted to be. Would her father be proud, even though she was changing things, doing things differently than he wanted? Or would he shut her down like usual, anything to maintain the control he clung to so desperately. That was what made this whole heart attack incident scary for him, and everyone else. He believed he was invincible and had everyone around him believing that, too.

Well, he was wrong and things had to change pretty radically if he wanted to remain at the table. After today, Miranda had the confidence she’d need to direct these guys to listen to her. Too bad it took her father having a heart attack and being out of the way for her to reinforce the reality on them. Now, it was up to her to find a way to retain the control, even as everyone counted the days until her father was back at the helm.

The sound of waves roaring into the beach soothed her ragged thoughts and emotions. Slowly, her breathing evened out and she drifted off to sleep.

L
ucas flipped the
steaks and glanced at Miranda stretched out on the chaise lounge, face turned to the sun. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell in an even motion. Asleep. She looked so peaceful, face smooth with no creases between her eyes, no worries for this one moment. He hated to have to wake her, even for dinner. The door slid open and he turned, holding a finger to his lips.

His mother took in the scene at a glance and nodded. She laid the dishes on the table and came over to him, peering at the steaks. “Make sure they’re medium rare. What’s going on with you and Miss Callahan? Don’t take me for a fool, boy. I saw that kiss and the looks you’ve been giving her. And I see her giving them right back.”

He tested the temperature of the steak. “A few more minutes.”

“Lucas.”

“Mom, I don’t know. It’s complicated.”

“Because you work together? Because you hold the future of her team in your hands? Because people wonder if you want to take the team back? Yes, I read the papers and I know what you do. It’s much easier when it’s for a team you have no emotional attachment to, but this is the Knights. You’re damned right; it’s complicated. So what are you doing, Lucas?”