Read Online Team Lucas (The Saints Team #1) by Ally Adams - Free Book Online
Authors: Ally Adams
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look and come together before it is even off the hanger. You can do this.”
She nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I can do this.” Alice looked out to the shops as though inspiration had landed on her shoulders.
I continued. “We’ve seen nearly everything at least once, and now you just have to bring it together, narrow it down and make that decision.”
I studied Alice. Her brown eyes were huge and a bit glazed as she took in my words; her dark black hair was sleek and sat perfectly in her shoulder-length bob and her skin was translucent. She could have stuck on any frock and walked straight into a glamorous event and pulled it off. I went for the kill.
“You are great under pressure and you can do this. You’ve got one hour.”
She gasped. “One hour.” Alice loved a challenge.
“You’re on. Let’s go.” She rose and grabbed her handbag, pointing her nose in the direction of the first shop we looked at two hours ago.
I stood and looked sadly at my remaining zucchini and pineapple toast. I’ll miss you, I thought, but I’m prepared to pay that price to get out of this place sooner.
*****
After Alice dropped me off, I hung my new dress up in the large walk-in-robe in my beach pad… yeah I’m cool, and gave Mom a quick call. I had bought the ingredients for Mom’s specialty lemon meringue pie and I was going to attempt to whip it up for tonight. Unfortunately there was no-one there to lick the bowl and I had to do it myself.
I cheated and bought the pie base, but I wouldn’t tell Mom that. I finished the filling and noticed Mom’s recipe said chill the pie for three hours. Crap. I glanced to the clock, it was nearing five so two hours of pie cooling would have to do since I still had to get the meringue on top and cool it again after that. Why didn’t I just buy a goddamn cake? And no, I wasn’t secretly trying to show off to Lucas Ainswright that I had lots of talents because I didn’t even like him.
I finished whipping the meringue, stuck it on, created its whipped up peaks and popped it back in the oven until the peaks were toasted brown. Voila! And may I say it looked pretty good. Yes, I am a goddess in the kitchen, and the bedroom but there was no way to prove the latter. I set the pie aside to cool and went to run myself a bath and chill before the seven p.m. roll call upstairs.
As I headed upstairs to the bathroom there was a knock at the adjoining door and I heard Lucas call my name.
“Come in,” I called.
He slid the door open looked around and saw me halfway up the stairs.
“I thought you’d be at weights training,” I said with a glance to the clock. It was three p.m.
“We start at four-thirty today. Um, a favor?” he said.
“Sure.”
“You know how you worked my shoulder last night?” he asked without waiting for an answer, “well any chance you’ve got your physio table here?”
“Of course, it’s portable,” I said. “It’s in the cupboard in the guest room.”
“Really?” He brightened.
“You want a massage now?” I said. “Why, what’s wrong?”
“I’m aching,” he said. “Can you do your thing? I’m guessing you can do a sports massage.”
I grimaced at him. “No Lucas, I’ve spent the last three years studying sports physiotherapy but we haven’t got to that semester yet. Of course I can.” I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to massage that body but I was playing it cool. “I’ll turn the bathwater off. Want to move the physio table into the lounge?”
“On it,” he said and closed our adjoining door before heading to the guest room.
I came back downstairs after turning off my bath water and found him stripped already. This job was so hard, so very hard. He was wearing only a pair of white, very nicely fitted, boxer-briefs. It was really best to do a sports massage with fewer clothes on—it’s a true story, no names have been changed to protect my rising libido.
I swallowed. “How are your muscles feeling?” I
She nodded. “Yes, you’re right. I can do this.” Alice looked out to the shops as though inspiration had landed on her shoulders.
I continued. “We’ve seen nearly everything at least once, and now you just have to bring it together, narrow it down and make that decision.”
I studied Alice. Her brown eyes were huge and a bit glazed as she took in my words; her dark black hair was sleek and sat perfectly in her shoulder-length bob and her skin was translucent. She could have stuck on any frock and walked straight into a glamorous event and pulled it off. I went for the kill.
“You are great under pressure and you can do this. You’ve got one hour.”
She gasped. “One hour.” Alice loved a challenge.
“You’re on. Let’s go.” She rose and grabbed her handbag, pointing her nose in the direction of the first shop we looked at two hours ago.
I stood and looked sadly at my remaining zucchini and pineapple toast. I’ll miss you, I thought, but I’m prepared to pay that price to get out of this place sooner.
*****
After Alice dropped me off, I hung my new dress up in the large walk-in-robe in my beach pad… yeah I’m cool, and gave Mom a quick call. I had bought the ingredients for Mom’s specialty lemon meringue pie and I was going to attempt to whip it up for tonight. Unfortunately there was no-one there to lick the bowl and I had to do it myself.
I cheated and bought the pie base, but I wouldn’t tell Mom that. I finished the filling and noticed Mom’s recipe said chill the pie for three hours. Crap. I glanced to the clock, it was nearing five so two hours of pie cooling would have to do since I still had to get the meringue on top and cool it again after that. Why didn’t I just buy a goddamn cake? And no, I wasn’t secretly trying to show off to Lucas Ainswright that I had lots of talents because I didn’t even like him.
I finished whipping the meringue, stuck it on, created its whipped up peaks and popped it back in the oven until the peaks were toasted brown. Voila! And may I say it looked pretty good. Yes, I am a goddess in the kitchen, and the bedroom but there was no way to prove the latter. I set the pie aside to cool and went to run myself a bath and chill before the seven p.m. roll call upstairs.
As I headed upstairs to the bathroom there was a knock at the adjoining door and I heard Lucas call my name.
“Come in,” I called.
He slid the door open looked around and saw me halfway up the stairs.
“I thought you’d be at weights training,” I said with a glance to the clock. It was three p.m.
“We start at four-thirty today. Um, a favor?” he said.
“Sure.”
“You know how you worked my shoulder last night?” he asked without waiting for an answer, “well any chance you’ve got your physio table here?”
“Of course, it’s portable,” I said. “It’s in the cupboard in the guest room.”
“Really?” He brightened.
“You want a massage now?” I said. “Why, what’s wrong?”
“I’m aching,” he said. “Can you do your thing? I’m guessing you can do a sports massage.”
I grimaced at him. “No Lucas, I’ve spent the last three years studying sports physiotherapy but we haven’t got to that semester yet. Of course I can.” I wasn’t going to pass up the chance to massage that body but I was playing it cool. “I’ll turn the bathwater off. Want to move the physio table into the lounge?”
“On it,” he said and closed our adjoining door before heading to the guest room.
I came back downstairs after turning off my bath water and found him stripped already. This job was so hard, so very hard. He was wearing only a pair of white, very nicely fitted, boxer-briefs. It was really best to do a sports massage with fewer clothes on—it’s a true story, no names have been changed to protect my rising libido.
I swallowed. “How are your muscles feeling?” I
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