The Baby That Changed Everything. Kate Hardy
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‘I enjoyed working with you,’ he said, meaning it; he was surprised to realise just how much he’d enjoyed it.
‘Let’s hit the shower and have breakfast.’
He went hot all over again at the thought of sharing a shower with her. He knew perfectly well that wasn’t what she’d meant, but now the idea was stuck in his head. And he was glad they had temperature settings on the showers in the male changing rooms, because he needed a blast of cold water to get his common sense back and the fantasies out of his mind.
When he met Bailey outside the changing rooms, he noticed that she was wearing a black tailored suit for work. This was yet another side of her; he’d seen the slightly scruffy scientist on the football pitch and the sculpted goddess in the gym, and now she was the calm, confident medical professional.
He wished that he was wearing something a bit more tailored, too—but then again he was off to work himself after this and that meant dressing appropriately. A sharp suit wasn’t what you needed when you were working on a football pitch.
Clearly the staff knew Bailey well here, because the waitress didn’t bat an eyelid when Bailey ordered Eggs Florentine without the hollandaise sauce. ‘And a rich roast latte?’ the waitress asked.
It was obviously Bailey’s usual, because she smiled. ‘That’d be lovely, thanks.’
He ordered porridge with blueberries and cinnamon, paired with a protein shake.
‘Not a coffee fiend?’ she asked.
‘I had mine before my workout. It gets the best use out of the caffeine,’ he said. ‘I’m balancing my protein and my carbs now, post-workout.’
She nodded. ‘Good point.’
‘So, are you going to take me through this system of yours while we wait for breakfast to arrive?’
‘Sure. The idea behind it is that you’re more likely to end up with a soft-tissue injury if you play while you’re under par. You’ll be slower and your reactions won’t be as fast. So if you look at your performance during training or a game and your VO2 is down, you’re doing fewer steps, your resting heart rate is up and your average speed is down, either you’ve had a slow game—and that’s where Archie comes in, to tell me if playing conditions on the field have been different and affected anyone’s performance—or you’re under par and you’re more likely to be injured in your next game.’
He asked her various questions about the measurements she used, and he was impressed that she didn’t have to look up a single answer. Bailey Randall wasn’t the glib salesman type, able to put a spin on her answers; she really knew her stuff. And she clearly believed in her research project. He liked her enthusiasm; it was one of the reasons why he’d chosen to look after the youth team, because he loved the enthusiasm that young players brought to the job, unjaded by internal politics.
And he also liked the way Bailey talked with her hands, completely animated when she was caught up in the subject. Now he knew she was half-Italian, he could really see it. Everything from her classic bone structure, to the slightly olive colour of her skin, to the rich depths of her eyes. Naturally stylish, she was like an Italian Audrey Hepburn, with that gamine haircut and those huge eyes.
‘OK,’ he said. ‘I still think those wristband things are ploys to extort money out of the gullible with too much disposable income and too little common sense, but the stuff you’re doing has a point.’
‘Thank you,’ she said. ‘So do you take it back about my system being a glorified pedometer?’
‘I’ll reserve judgement until I’ve seen a month of results,’ he said, ‘but I will agree that it’s better than the wristband things. Especially because you do at least use a proper heart-rate monitor strap with your system.’
‘And the yoga?’
He shook his head. ‘Even though the plank was hard, I’m not convinced that yoga’s going to do what you think it will. Not for a bunch of seventeen-year-old boys.’
‘It’s still worth a try.’
‘Do you make them do the plank?’
She laughed. ‘No. That was just to prove a point to you.’
He liked the fact that she’d admitted it.
And it worried him that he liked it. Now that he was getting to know her, he quite liked Bailey Randall. Which was a very dangerous position. He couldn’t afford to think of her in terms of anything other than a colleague, but she seriously tempted him. To the point where he could actually imagine asking her out on a date.
Bad, bad move.
He had a feeling that he was going to have to resort to a lot of cold showers to keep his common sense in place. Dating Bailey Ran dall was absolutely not on the cards. He’d only just finished gluing the pieces of his heart back together, and he had no intention of putting himself back in a position where it could shatter again.
OVER THE NEXT couple of weeks, working at the football club was easier, Bailey thought. Jared was at least showing some interest in her research project rather than being an insurmountable bulwark, and he’d even come up with a couple of suggestions that she was trying to incorporate into her data.
Then she noticed that he was favouring his right knee when he went onto the pitch to treat one of the players. She waited until he’d come back to sit next to her on the bench, and then asked, ‘What did you do?’
‘For Mitch?’ He shrugged. ‘It was just a flesh wound—some studs scraped against his shin, so I cleaned it and dressed it. He shouldn’t have too much trouble with it.’
‘No, I meant what did you do to your knee?’
He looked away. ‘Nothing.’
‘Jared, I’m a doctor, so don’t try to flannel me. I could see you were favouring your right knee,’ she said.
He sighed. ‘It’s an old injury. I guess I might have overdone the running a tad at the weekend.’
‘Tsk. And you’re a sports medicine doctor,’ she said.
He gave her a crooked grin that made her libido sit up and beg. ‘It’ll be fine. It’s strapped up.’
‘So you didn’t actually see anyone about it?’
‘I didn’t need to.’
She tutted. ‘What a fine example to set the team—not. Let me have a look when they’ve gone, so they don’t know what an idiot you are.’
He shook his head. ‘It’s fine. You don’t have to do that.’
‘You’re my colleague. You’d do the same for me.’
Jared thought about it. Would he? Yes, probably. And he’d nag her if she was being stubborn about it, just as he’d nag Archie. Just as she was nagging him. ‘I guess,’ he admitted.
‘Are you icing it? Because obviously you’re not resting it or elevating it.’
‘No. I’m taking painkillers,’ he said. ‘And not strong ones, either. Just normal ibuprofen to deal with the inflammation.’
‘Hmm,’ she said.
After the training session, Jared said to Archie, ‘I’ll lock up if you need to go. I want to discuss a couple of things with Dr Randall.’
‘Cheers,’ Archie said. ‘It’ll give me a few extra minutes to make myself beautiful for my date.’
‘What, another one?’ Bailey teased. ‘I’m sure she’ll think you look beautiful.’ She blew him a kiss.