Angel in Armani

by Melanie Scott

  Maggie was swarmed by the players sitting in the bleachers as soon as she walked out into the stands, so Lucas continued on alone to find Dan. He saw Sam sitting alone in the stands, down near the fence line, and decided to make a detour.

  “Hey, kid,” he said. “How’s it going?”

  Sam looked up and pulled off the shades hiding his eyes. “Mr. Angelo,” he said, sounding nervous. “Okay, I think.”

  “It’s Dr. Angelo,” Lucas said. “Or Lucas, outside hours. You’re still here. That’s better than okay.”

  Sam nodded. “I know. And I’m happy about it.” He didn’t sound all that happy. He sounded stressed. Working himself up in his head. Lucas knew about that particular monkey. Maybe Sam needed another trip in Sara’s helo. For that matter, maybe Lucas needed another trip in Sara’s helo. One where she took them somewhere secluded so he could put his hands on her. It had only been a few hours and he was already going nuts thinking about when he could be back in her bed.

  And that was a line of thought that wasn’t going to help him make a nervous kid less nervous. He tried to push Sara to the back of his mind. They needed pitchers, and this kid was the best of the bunch. So it was time to think about him.

  “I heard about Walsh,” Lucas said. “That’s tough. But he’ll be okay. He’s talented, he’ll find a home. Coach tells me he’s thinking of giving you a start in today’s game. So concentrate on that.”

  “I am,” Sam said. His forehead wrinkled. “Coach said you were a pitcher. Played for U of T?”

  “Yeah, I did,” Lucas said.

  “What happened? Did you blow it?”

  Lucas shrugged. “No. Didn’t end up getting a chance to take my shot. I got hurt. In an accident. Screwed up my shoulder, and it was never going to be stable enough for pro ball. So I became a doctor instead.”

  “Do you miss it?”

  “Baseball?” He grinned. “Why do you think I bought a team? This game gets into your blood. But I don’t have to tell you that. So you need to take care of that arm of yours, okay? No doing anything stupid.” Like running into burning stadiums. Not that he could regret saving lives or that he’d do anything differently if he had to do it again. But he would do his best to make sure that this kid and anyone else on his team never had to make that choice.

  “I will,” Sam said. “I’m doing everything they tell me to.”

  “Good. And tell you what. If you do okay, I’ll see if Sara can take you for another spin in the chopper. How about that?”

  “That would be cool. Could Tico come, too?”

  “As long as he doesn’t do anything stupid,” Lucas said. “Is he getting a chance this game?”

  Sam shook his head. “Coach says next time.”

  “How’d he take that?”

  “Okay,” Sam said, but the words came a little too quickly.

  Not so well, was what that translated as. Lucas made a note to check on Tico. There was something a bit wild about him, and he had the kind of attitude that suggested a chip on his shoulder about something. He reminded Lucas of Mal in some ways, and Mal had always been the wildest of the three of them. He didn’t want Tico losing his chance because he cracked and did something dumb under pressure.

  “You’d better go join the others,” Lucas said. “You can meet Ms. Jameson.”

  “Okay, sir. Are you coming to the game?”

  “Wouldn’t miss it.”

  * * *

  For this to work, Lucas decided much later that night when he was finally alone in his hotel room, the cold water in his shower needed to be a lot colder. At this stage, maybe a walk-in freezer would be required. The cool water might have temporarily killed the inconvenient hard-on but it couldn’t kill the thoughts of Sara that plagued him. Even through the postgame celebration dinner—they’d actually won—he’d been distracted by her.

  All that softness and smooth skin and laughter. Lying in her bed just a few doors down the corridor.

  But she might as well have been on Mars. They’d agreed no sex in Orlando, too risky.

  He rested his forehead on the slick cool tile. He really didn’t like hiding things from Alex and Mal. But Sara wasn’t ready. So he had to wait. Though he was pretty sure that Maggie, as Sara had said, had some fairly serious suspicions.

  All the more reason why trying to sneak down the hall was lunacy.

  He turned the water pressure on harder but that didn’t help.

  He wanted her. Wanted sex and the smell of her on his skin and the sound of her voice in his ear as she told him what she wanted.

  Damn.

  He killed the water with a savage twist of the faucet and stepped out of the shower. Even as he toweled off, his hard-on rose again.

  Maybe he should just take care of things. Then he might have some chance of getting to sleep at some point during the night.

  He wrapped the towel around his waist and stalked out of the bathroom over toward the bed, flipping on the lamp as the sole source of illumination in the room.

  Just as he was about to lie down, his cell buzzed to life on the nightstand.

  He picked it up, ready to snarl at whoever was calling him at this hour of the night, but the caller ID read SARA and irritation turned to anticipation in a second. He hit the ANSWER button so hard it was surprising the screen didn’t crack. “Hello?”

  “Oh good, you’re awake,” she said.

  Her voice was soft and a little husky over the phone. He felt his cock go harder still.

  “Having trouble sleeping?” he asked.

  “It’s a very big bed,” she said. “And it’s half empty.”

  “Don’t blame me for that,” he said. “You’re the one who wants to keep this a secret.”

  “I know.” She sighed, and there was a world of frustration in that sound. “I do. But…”

  “But this is insane and you want me to come right over?”

  “No. I want you to stay there and come.”

  The breath left his chest in a rush and the room spun for a second as most of the blood left his head equally fast. “Phone sex? Really?”

  “You got a better idea?”

  Well, yes, he did, but it wasn’t one that Sara would go for. “Not right now.”

  “Good. So, what are you wearing, big boy?”

  He looked down at the towel, which was currently tented with the force of his hard-on. “A towel.”

  She laughed, throaty and delicious. “Seriously? Or are you just saying that?”

  “Scout’s honor,” he said. “I just got out of the shower when you rang.”

  “A cold shower?”

  “Definitely.”

  “Oh good. Me, too.”

  “You’re wearing a towel?” He flopped back on the bed, put his arm over his eyes for a moment while he pictured it. Sara with wet hair curling around her shoulders. Smelling like soap and warm woman. Ker-riiiisst.

  “Well, I was, but then I took it off so I could put some lotion on.”

  Warm, slippery woman. “You’re trying to kill me, aren’t you?”

  “Is it working?”

  He focused on the aching heat in his groin. “Definitely.”

  “So maybe you should take that towel off.”

  He couldn’t argue with that. He tossed the towel across the room. Then moved up the bed so he could lie against the pillows. “One towel gone.”

  “Mmmm,” she said. “I like that image.”

  “You know, we both have smartphones, you don’t have to imagine.”

  “Ah, but imagination is sexy, Dr. Angelo. Don’t you know the research that says the brain is the biggest erogenous zone? Like right now. Right now I’m imagining you lying there, naked. Hard.”

  His mouth went dry. “You are?”

  “And I’m imagining what I’d do if I was there with you.”

  “Are you going to tell me what that is?”

  She sucked in a breath. Then he heard a rustle, like maybe she was settling back into the pillows, too. “Does that
mean you’re up for phone sex after all?”

  “I am one hundred percent in favor,” he said fervently and lay back to see where Sara’s imagination might take him.

  * * *

  Sara smiled as she watched the cab pull up outside her apartment two weeks later. Sneaking around seemed to be working pretty damned well. Even if she did say so herself.

  Several nights a week, Lucas arrived on her doorstep, they had incredible sex, and then he left before daylight. Okay, so that part wasn’t quite so good, but she could live with the incredible-sex part.

  Even better, they continued to rack up the frequent flier miles. So far they’d flown to Florida and back six times in that same two weeks and she’d delivered him to and from JFK each time.

  So she was getting flight time. Not quite as much as she would have with Charles Air, but more than she would with no helo. Air time and hot sex. What more could a girl ask for?

  Beside her Dougal woofed and bounded toward the door, delighted, as usual, that his new idol had arrived.

  Which could maybe be attributed to the fact that Lucas was smart enough to always arrive with jerky or dog biscuits or, once, a truly gross pig’s ear to keep Dougal occupied while they did other things.

  Just as Dougal began to bark with more enthusiasm, the buzzer sounded and Sara darted over to let Lucas in. She made Dougal sit, which he did with one of his protesting little whining grumbles that sounded as if they should be coming from something the size of a Pekingese, not a Lab.

  And then she opened the door and Lucas stepped through. Beside her, Dougal started whuffing with happiness.

  She was about to throw her arms around Lucas and kiss him hello when she realized he was carrying two grocery bags.

  “What’s this?”

  “I thought I’d make dinner,” he said. “We’ve been eating in hotels and restaurants and airports for two weeks. I want real food.”

  “You cook?”

  “I do,” he said gravely.

  She shook her head. “You really are trying for the too-good-to-be-true award, aren’t you, Dr. Angelo?”

  “Am I in the running yet?”

  She took one of the grocery bags and carried it through to the tiny kitchen. She cooked well enough to ensure she didn’t starve or blow all her money on takeout, but a well-appointed kitchen hadn’t been high on her list of priorities when she’d been hunting for an apartment here on the island and she hadn’t really put the kitchen through its paces yet.

  It was easier sometimes to just go to her parents’ and eat there while Dougal ran around the backyard in the dark. She put the bag down at the counter. “It’s not the greatest kitchen in the world.”

  “Does the stove work?”

  “Yes.” She’d made scrambled eggs, grilled cheese, and stir-fries, so she could at least vouch for the burners being in working order.

  Lucas put his bag next to the one she’d taken and then leaned down to kiss her. “Then we’re in business.”

  He started to draw back but she pulled him closer. It was nearly six hours since she’d delivered him to Deacon Field after their latest trip to Florida. Two nights since she’d had him in her bed. She wanted a taste of him more than she wanted dinner. He seemed to feel the same way. His hands came down to grip her butt and pull her closer as their mouths met and she pressed into him, glorying in the feeling.

  Dougal’s patience finally broke and he got to his feet and shoved his nose between them.

  “Ow, quit it, dopey dog,” Lucas said, breaking off. He grinned down at Dougal, and bent to rub the dog’s ears. Which led to the two of them wrestling around the apartment for a minute or two, Lucas looking just as delighted as Dougal. Damn it. It was hard to resist a man who loved her dog.

  “Did you have a dog when you were a kid?” she asked when he came back to her and Dougal followed to come and lean against her legs.

  “No,” Lucas said. “My mother isn’t a fan of dogs.”

  Every time he mentioned his family, his eyes went flat. Time to change the subject.

  “So, dinner?” she said.

  Lucas’s face eased. He nodded and turned toward the grocery bags, Dougal bouncing around his legs.

  “Bed,” she said to Dougal, who looked dejected but trotted immediately to the ratty dog bed that lived in the corner of the small living room, circling a few times before dropping down with a whuff. Sara laughed but didn’t relent. There wasn’t enough room in the tiny kitchen for two adults and Dougal. Not if any of them wanted to move.

  Lucas kept unpacking the bags. With each package or can or bag that hit the counter, Dougal whined.

  “I think you have a volunteer for assistant chef,” Sara said.

  Lucas grinned and opened her fridge. “Your dog thinks I’m awesome.”

  “He’s a dog, I wouldn’t rate his opinion too highly.” Though she did, to an extent. She’d give anything to know what made Dougal like Lucas so much.

  Lucas folded his arms, grin widening. “You’re just jealous.”

  She didn’t dignify that with a response. “You’re early,” Sara said. It was Saturday and he’d told her he’d probably be at Deacon until eight-ish. It was barely six now.

  “Mal had something to do back in the city,” he said. “So Alex let us out early. In fact, because I’m early, I thought maybe we could do something before we ate.”

  “Oh yes?” She grinned at him. “What exactly did you have in mind?”

  He opened his mouth to answer but then her phone started to ring. Landline, not cell. Which meant it was probably her mom. “Hold that thought,” she said and looked around to figure out where she’d left the phone.

  She spotted it on the kitchen table and scooped it up. Sure enough, it was her mom.

  “Sara, honey,” Liza said. “I wasn’t sure you were home tonight.”

  Sara’s stomach tightened at the too-bright tone in her voice. She sounded … brittle. Sara knew that voice. It meant her dad was having a bad day. “Hey, Mom. Yup, I’m home. Is something up?”

  “I was just wondering if you wanted to come over for dinner. I made lasagna.”

  Lasagna. Her dad’s favorite food. Which meant that her mom was definitely trying to either get him to eat or coax him out of one of his down days. She looked over at Lucas, who raised his eyebrows in question. “I’m not…” She hesitated.

  “Oh, did you have plans?” The tension in her voice didn’t do anything to ease Sara’s stomach. Damn it. Something was going on and she couldn’t just abandon her mom and let her deal with it on her own.

  “Not really,” she said.

  “That’s okay, I—” Liza continued in a rush.

  “No, Mom, it’s fine. I’ll come. Only, do you mind if I bring a … friend?” She tilted her head at Lucas, and he just nodded. Apparently a surprise meeting with his secret lover’s parents wasn’t enough to throw Dr. Gorgeous. Which made sense, given he wasn’t the one who wanted to keep them a secret.

  “A friend? Honey, you didn’t tell me you were seeing someone. That’s wonderful. Of course he can come. It’ll be ready in about an hour. Bring Dougal, too. And … what is your friend’s name?”

  Sara bit back the groan that rose in her throat. “Lucas. His name is Lucas, Mom.” Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. After all, her parents didn’t exactly run in the same circles as Alex and Mal, and they didn’t have anything to do with the Saints. Even if they knew about her and Lucas, keeping it quiet at work should still be doable.

  “I always liked that name,” Liza said. “So we’ll see you and Lucas around seven?”

  She hoped. “Sure, Mom, see you then. Love you.” She waited until her mom hung up and then turned back to Lucas.

  “So, I guess you heard that.”

  “I got the gist.”

  “And you don’t mind?”

  “Meeting your parents. No, of course not. I’ll cook you dinner tomorrow night.”

  “My mom’s making lasagna. It’s pretty good.” She smiled at him.
“Though maybe not as good as your mom’s.”

  “Trust me, I’ve never had lasagna that my mom made from scratch.”

  “You haven’t?”

  “My mom leaves the cooking to the housekeeper,” Lucas said.

  Right. She’d forgotten how he’d grown up for a moment. “Well, in that case, you’re going to love it.” She stopped. “You know, it’s okay if you don’t want to come.”

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Why would I not want to eat your mom’s lasagna?” Lucas asked, wondering why she looked worried.

  Sara’s face didn’t relax even though she shot him something he thought was supposed to be a smile.

  “Is there something wrong?”

  She shrugged, mouth twisting. “I’m not sure. Mom sounded … tense. I think maybe Dad’s having a bad day.”

  “His leg?”

  “Yes. I think it hurts him more than he lets on. And he doesn’t seem to be progressing like he did at first.”

  “Sometimes things are never quite the same,” Lucas said. “Surgery isn’t perfect. Sometimes there’s just too much damage.”

  “Or maybe his doctors are screwing up,” Sara said. She hesitated. “I know I don’t have the right to ask you this, but do you think you could talk to him? He might listen to you, you’re a surgeon.”

  A surgeon who was sleeping with his daughter. If Sean Charles was anything like the fathers of most of the women he’d dated, then taking Lucas’s advice about medical issues on first meeting wasn’t necessarily likely to happen. “Let’s see what happens.”

  Sara’s face fell. He walked over and pulled her close. “I didn’t mean I won’t talk to him, just that tonight might not be the perfect time. I mean, they didn’t even know I existed until a few minutes ago, did they?”

  “No.” Her voice was somewhat muffled against his chest. “You’re right. I’m just worried about him. It’ll kill him if he never flies again. He needs two good legs to fly.”

  “It’ll be okay,” he said. He wanted to make it okay. Wanted to chase that fear out of her voice. And the ferocity of that emotion startled him. He thought he’d been keeping himself back a little. Trying to play it smart, given that she didn’t seem to be sure about him.