Read Online In Touch (Play On #1) by Cd Brennan - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Cd Brennan
Ads: Link
space of the vomitous love birds. She’d give Jenn that. She moved quick. And now that Gillian thought of it, what the heck was Jenn doing here on a Wednesday? Obviously trawling for meat. The foreign boys were here for some extra practice and Barbie must have gotten wind of it somehow. What a leech. She needed to get a life outside of men.
When Gillian met Padraig’s gaze, he returned it steady, no flinch or show of emotion. But he’d been like that since he’d arrived. Flat. Zombie-like. Half-dead.
“I just need to borrow Padraig a minute.”
Jenn crossed her arms over her chest. “What for?”
Was it any of her business? It was as if she’d already staked her claim on Padraig and was his keeper in all things receptiony. “Because I told Coach I’d work on his back.” And why the heck were they talking about him like he wasn’t there? She walked up to Padraig. “Do you have a minute?”
He eyed the door. “I’m sure the lads are about ready to go, and they’re my ride home.”
“It’ll only take a minute.”
“If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to, Gill—”
Okay, that was about enough. “Jenn, I’m sure he appreciates your loving care, but this is about the club, so if you wouldn’t mind butting out a minute. Hell, we could have been done by now if we’d just gotten on with it.” She waved her hand out toward the physio room. “Mr. O’Neale, if you would please? I’ve already worked all day but made a special trip out here to help.” She had, and she was tired. She’d volunteered her Tuesday and Thursday evenings for the club, and now she was here on a Wednesday. Seeing him with Barbie didn’t bother her. Not one bit. Her grumpiness wasn’t about that—at all. But she had used a special olive oil treatment in her hair this morning. Not for him, of course.
He shrugged before he rose from the desk. He grabbed his bag and hoisted it to his shoulder. “After you, Miss Sommersby.”
“I can give you a ride home if you need one, Irish,” Jenn purred.
Padraig held up a hand in a wave. “That’s all right. You go ahead. If I miss the boys, I’ll get a cab.”
As soon as Gillian closed the door, she launched into him. “It’s none of my business, but you should be careful with Jenn. She works her way through all the boys.”
He dropped his bag, a half-smirk on his face. “You’re right on the first account. It isn’t any of your business. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m not worried about you. I know that Coach doesn’t like it when the boys get together with Jenn.” Even when Andrew had played with the Blues, Jenn had been a tease, having started her flirtations young at the ripe old age of sixteen. She had some sort of connection with the club, an ex-player’s niece or granddaughter or something. More than one player had been off their game after fooling around with her. She played the lads against each other, and it was rotten.
Padraig had stepped around the physio table and into her space. God, he was big. She stood her ground. No alpha gorilla behavior would intimidate her. “Just giving you fair warning, is all.”
“I’m good, thanks. Now, we done here?”
What? They hadn’t even started. “No. This isn’t about Jenn. Coach really did ask me to help with your back pain.” Gillian unzipped her bag where she’d placed it on the table and grabbed a small jar of ointment. “I’ll use one of my special treatments on—”
“I’m not interested.” Padraig took a step back.
“I can show you some exercises specifically for the lower back, and if you apply this cream twice a day, you’ll notice a change within a week.”
His fist clenched at his side. “I told you I’m not interested in your help. I have a routine that my physio back home gave me. That’s working.”
“You’re not in pain?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Nope.”
But she could tell he was lying by the way his eyes had darted to the corner
When Gillian met Padraig’s gaze, he returned it steady, no flinch or show of emotion. But he’d been like that since he’d arrived. Flat. Zombie-like. Half-dead.
“I just need to borrow Padraig a minute.”
Jenn crossed her arms over her chest. “What for?”
Was it any of her business? It was as if she’d already staked her claim on Padraig and was his keeper in all things receptiony. “Because I told Coach I’d work on his back.” And why the heck were they talking about him like he wasn’t there? She walked up to Padraig. “Do you have a minute?”
He eyed the door. “I’m sure the lads are about ready to go, and they’re my ride home.”
“It’ll only take a minute.”
“If he doesn’t want to, he doesn’t have to, Gill—”
Okay, that was about enough. “Jenn, I’m sure he appreciates your loving care, but this is about the club, so if you wouldn’t mind butting out a minute. Hell, we could have been done by now if we’d just gotten on with it.” She waved her hand out toward the physio room. “Mr. O’Neale, if you would please? I’ve already worked all day but made a special trip out here to help.” She had, and she was tired. She’d volunteered her Tuesday and Thursday evenings for the club, and now she was here on a Wednesday. Seeing him with Barbie didn’t bother her. Not one bit. Her grumpiness wasn’t about that—at all. But she had used a special olive oil treatment in her hair this morning. Not for him, of course.
He shrugged before he rose from the desk. He grabbed his bag and hoisted it to his shoulder. “After you, Miss Sommersby.”
“I can give you a ride home if you need one, Irish,” Jenn purred.
Padraig held up a hand in a wave. “That’s all right. You go ahead. If I miss the boys, I’ll get a cab.”
As soon as Gillian closed the door, she launched into him. “It’s none of my business, but you should be careful with Jenn. She works her way through all the boys.”
He dropped his bag, a half-smirk on his face. “You’re right on the first account. It isn’t any of your business. I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.”
“I’m not worried about you. I know that Coach doesn’t like it when the boys get together with Jenn.” Even when Andrew had played with the Blues, Jenn had been a tease, having started her flirtations young at the ripe old age of sixteen. She had some sort of connection with the club, an ex-player’s niece or granddaughter or something. More than one player had been off their game after fooling around with her. She played the lads against each other, and it was rotten.
Padraig had stepped around the physio table and into her space. God, he was big. She stood her ground. No alpha gorilla behavior would intimidate her. “Just giving you fair warning, is all.”
“I’m good, thanks. Now, we done here?”
What? They hadn’t even started. “No. This isn’t about Jenn. Coach really did ask me to help with your back pain.” Gillian unzipped her bag where she’d placed it on the table and grabbed a small jar of ointment. “I’ll use one of my special treatments on—”
“I’m not interested.” Padraig took a step back.
“I can show you some exercises specifically for the lower back, and if you apply this cream twice a day, you’ll notice a change within a week.”
His fist clenched at his side. “I told you I’m not interested in your help. I have a routine that my physio back home gave me. That’s working.”
“You’re not in pain?”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “Nope.”
But she could tell he was lying by the way his eyes had darted to the corner
Similar Books
