Page 83 of Angel In Armani

She jerked her popcorn and bits of it shot everywhere. That earned him a sea-blue glare. “I think you need to wear bells on your cufflinks or something.”

“Sorry, but you looked kind of cute all intent on the baseball. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Well, for once we seem to be winning. I thought I should enjoy it while it lasts.” She stuck out her tongue. “Sam’s doing pretty good, isn’t he?”

“He’s sitting on a 4.5 ERA—that’s Earned Run Average. Yep, that’s not too shabby at all.”

“Is he going to get a slot?”

“If he keeps pitching like that, then probably.” He grinned. He’d grown fond of Sam. He worked like a dog and sucked up knowledge like a sponge. He listened and he implemented. He kind of reminded Lucas of himself many moons ago. Tico wasn’t doing too badly, either. And there were still a few weeks left until the season proper began.

“I’m glad, he’s trying so hard.” She held out the popcorn. What was left of it.

He took a piece and looked at it before tossing it into his mouth. “You know we have real food in the owners’ suite.”

She wrinkled her nose and gestured widely at the crowd with her free hand. “But isn’t this what it’s about? Sitting with the crowd in the sunshine, eating junk, and enjoying the game?”

He smiled. A woman after his own heart. During the real season he was going to have to be in the owners’ box because there would be sponsors and VIPs and all that bullshit to deal with. He hadn’t really thought about it until now, but he wasn’t going to get many chances to just sit in the stands and kick back. Not unless he snuck out to non-Saints games. Damn.

Well, then. Today he was going to play hooky and sit here with Sara and try to be a fan for as long as he could. Alex and Maggie could hold the schmoozing fort.

He looked around, spotted a guy with a tray of hot dogs, and waved a bill at him. “If you put it like that…” He took the hot dog—loaded with mustard the way he liked it—and sat back down.

“Don’t spill mustard on that suit,” Sara warned.

“My dry cleaner laughs in the face of mustard stains,” Lucas said and Sara laughed. “What?”

“Do you actually know who your dry cleaner is?” she said, voice amused. “Or do you have a housekeeper or someone who deals with all that stuff?”

“I know my dry cleaner.” Well, he knew one dry cleaner, the one he sometimes dropped stuff off with at the hospital. He had no idea where his housekeeper took most of his suits. But he wasn’t going to tell Sara that.

“That’s a relief.” She fished out more popcorn and grinned before she ate it, looking as though it was the best thing she’d ever eaten. That was baseball for you—it made even the junk food taste good.

He bit into his hot dog. It was gloriously terrible. Salty and beefy and tangy with mustard. He could almost feel his cholesterol spiking. But who gave a damn? He took another bite and chewed happily.

“Did you come to ask me something?” Sara said when he’d swallowed. “Do you need the helo?”

He frowned. It stung that she was surprised by him seeking her out. “Do I need a reason to come talk to you? Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

Sara nudged his leg with her knee, and the quick flash of heat eased the sting. And replaced it with a surge of why-the-hell-was-he-stuck-in-Florida-where-he-couldn’t-touch her?

“No reason required, Dr. Gorgeous. But I thought you’d be up with the bigwigs, doing your owner thing.” She smiled, expression teasing.

“They’ll live without me for a bit. But actually, I came to tell you that my office called. Your mom rang them earlier and your dad’s going to have some X-rays and scans done Wednesday. Then I can see him Thursday before we come back here for Friday and Saturday night.”

This time her smile was one of pure delight and relief. “Really?”

“Yup. It’s all sorted. And it’s on the house. I’ve got a friend who’s looking at patella fractures and recovery times, so he can use your dad’s data for his study and the hospital will cover it.”

Her smile ramped up another few degrees until the happiness in her face just about blinded him. He really wanted to kiss her. Really. But other than Mal, Alex, and Maggie, no one else in the Saints knew about them. So he couldn’t. That wouldn’t be fair. He contented himself with grinning back at her while making a mental note to get her alone as soon as humanly possible.

“You’re a good guy, Dr. Gorgeous,” she said. “Want to take me to a ball?”

All dressed up with no date in sight. Aka where the hell was Lucas? He was meant to meet her at his apartment at seven and whisk her away to the ball. Once she’d said yes to him taking her, she’d decided she wasn’t going to hide away and sneak in the back or turn up with Mal. In for a penny, in for a pound. Or something.

She was with Lucas. So let the world think what they would for however long that lasted.

Of course, making a grand statement like that would be easier if he would show the hell up.

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