Chapter Fourteen
Lucas directed Mirandato pull up by a gorgeous beachside house, a white three-story manor, redesigned to fit into modern, coastal living. How his mother ever lived there alone, Lucas would never quite understand. But it had touches of Savannah to remind her of home and she certainly seemed happy when he talked to her.
“This isn’t what I had in mind.” Miranda stared doubtfully at the house, her brow furrowed.
“I told you we’d have dinner with my mother. This is where she lives.”
“Yes, I know. But I thought we’d go to a restaurant or something. Not this.”
He shrugged and tossed off the seatbelt. “You said you wanted quiet. Her beach is private, no spring break kids, and we can relax.”
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 heatedfrom 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.