I’m starving!’
‘Have a carrot stick or come run with me. Then you can eat shrimp and mayo sandwiches.’ Will wiped his mouth with a serviette he’d found next to the sandwich. ‘Or get your lard-ass back to the gym.’
‘Like I have time for that,’ Kelby grumbled.
Will waved the sandwich in Lu’s direction. ‘Have you asked her yet?’
‘I was interrupted by my annoying head coach,’ Kelby said, looking longingly at the empty plastic sandwich container. He turned to Lu and his eyes were serious. ‘I’m looking for a contracted photographer to work for the Rays—capturing official images of the squad for us to use for various promotional campaigns. I don’t have the time to phone around looking for freelance photographers who cost the earth even if they are available. I need you to be the official Rays photographer.’
Lu looked from Kelby to Will and realised that neither of them were laughing, so it couldn’t be a joke. She thought she’d make doubly sure. ‘Sorry—are you being serious?’ she asked, her heart racing.
‘Yep. You’d have to work flexible hours—work with me, work with the guys.’ He sent her a dubious look. ‘Can you handle twenty-plus men at a time?’
‘She raised twin boys. She’s pretty much Superwoman,’ Will stated calmly, and Lu shot him a quick grin and tried not to blush at his compliment.
Lu looked at Kelby. ‘Wow. Sorry, this is quite overwhelming. Are you sure?’
‘If you give me images half as good as the ones on that card I’ll be a happy man.’
Lu raised her chin in determination. ‘They’ll be as good or better.’
Kelby looked at Will and nodded. ‘I like her.’
‘I thought you would,’ he said, and Lu’s heart flopped against her ribs.
Kelby’s ringing mobile phone broke their look and, after telling his caller that he’d phone him back in five minutes, Kelby reached for a file on his desk. He handed Lu some papers and stood up. ‘Look that contract over and start on Monday.’ He waved his mobile. ‘Sorry, I have to sort something out.’
‘Thank you so much.’
Lu noticed Kelby’s eyes sliding to his desk drawer and saw that Will had caught the action too.
‘What are you hiding, Kelby?’ he demanded. Will stood up and walked around the desk, yanked open a drawer. He shook his head as he pulled out an oil stained packet. ‘Jelly doughnuts? Seriously? With your stress levels and lack of exercise?’
Kelby groaned. ‘Who are you? The food police?’
Will opened the packet, pulled one out and bit down. ‘These are good.’ He looked at Lu and waved the doughnut in the air. ‘Want some?’
Lu shook her head. ‘No thanks.’
‘I hate you so much, Scott. I’ll be back in five minutes,’ Kelby muttered, looking utterly bereft. ‘So are we on for Sunday, Lu.’
Lu felt sorry for him. Being on a diet was the pits. ‘Come at ten—for tea. I’ll make you some super-healthy beetroot cupcakes that you’ll think are laden with fat and calories.’
Kelby brightened immediately. ‘You—I like.’ He pointed at Will. ‘Him—not so much.’
Lu swallowed as the door clicked shut and Will resumed his place on the corner of the desk, his knee just inches from hers. He folded his arms across his chest and looked down at her.
He’d thought about her far too much since he’d had supper at her house and had been forcing himself not to call. He’d been surprised by her call and even more startled by the relief he’d felt at hearing from her again.
Lu lifted her face and in doing so exposed that fine strip of skin just below her jaw that he wanted to nibble on... He’d spent many nights thinking about her, imagining what he’d do to her if he had her naked and willing. Will gave himself a mental punch to the head.
Lu glanced down at the contract in her hand and he watched as pleasure bloomed in her cheeks. ‘I’ve got a job, Will.’
‘I know...’ He bit his tongue to keep the word honey from slipping out. ‘Congratulations.’
‘I’ve got to tell the boys.’
Lu shot him an enormous smile before picking up her bag. Dumping it on the desk next to him, she stood up to scrabble in it and eventually yanked out her mobile. Will heard the rumble of a male voice as he stretched out his legs and crossed his feet.
Will listened patiently as she spoke to one brother and then the other and then, sending him an apologetic look, quickly ran through the news again with Mak. Every time she said the words ‘official photographer’ she did a hip wiggle that had the blood rushing from his head.
Attraction aside, he was enjoying watching Lu bounce out of her shoes with excitement. When had she last had momentous news of her own to report? He suspected that it had been a long, long time. This was all hers; it had nothing to do with her brothers, Mak or anyone else.
He knew what success felt like—the satisfaction a person felt when the validation of hard work or talent came their way. He’d experienced it most of his life, was probably addicted to it, and had possibly become a bit blasé about his successes. Apart from his ‘Stupid Years’, failure was rarely—OK, never—an acceptable option.
Lu finished her conversation with Mak and looked up at him, her mermaid eyes excited. ‘I’m even deeper in debt to you now. You rescue me and you hook me up with a job.’
No, he wasn’t going to allow her to shift the credit to him or anyone else. This was her moment. ‘All I did was hand Kelby the media card. I didn’t say or do anything more. You got this job because you obviously have some wicked skills with a camera.’
Lu rocked on her heels. ‘So you didn’t hint or suggest that he should—?’
‘You’re assuming that I have a lot more power than I actually do. I wouldn’t tolerate anyone telling me how to coach, so I extend the same respect to the publicity division. I wouldn’t dare tell them how to promote or publicise. No, Lu, you did this,’ Will told her, his voice low and serious. She needed to understand that this was her achievement and hers alone.
Lu looked at him for a long minute and then her hips shimmied again in excitement. He really wished she wouldn’t. How was he expected not to think about what those hips were made for when she did that?
‘Yee-hah!’ Lu laughed and did a little pirouette. ‘So, what time do you think I should be at work on Monday? What should I wear? And, more importantly, how many lenses should I bring? Maybe I should bring all of them—’
Will’s lips quirked. ‘How many do you have?’
‘Eight? Nine?’
He
