Love Has The Best Intentions Read Online Free Page A

expressed
delight with her concept with a bonus that would help pay for a
year at The Fitness Studio.
    Friday finally arrived—and found Becca on the
expressway, struggling to fix a flat tire. Her elderly car
intuitively seemed to know any plans she’d made to arrive early and
somehow contrived to sabotage those good intentions. She was still
scrubbing grease marks off her hands with a rag as she walked into
The Fitness Studio.
    Her blond guide perched on check-in duty at
the desk tonight, directing a scornful glance at the grease smears
on Becca’s peach shorts. Vowing she’d rather be lost in the desert
for three days without water than ask the other woman for
directions, Becca found a restroom and washed up before striking
off on her own to locate the volleyball courts.
    After interrupting a bizarre looking session
that appeared as if it had something to do with either delivering
babies or tummy-tightening, she found herself in the hall of an
unexplored wing. Without warning, the double doors on the left
burst open and someone erupted. Becca’s first impression was of
absolute male gorgeousness. Chestnut hair curled low on an
intelligent forehead and the body beneath also appeared to be in
excellent shape.
    He froze, seemingly transfixed by the sight
of the woman lurking in the hallway. Deciding an overlooked smear
of grease might be responsible for his dazed condition, Becca put
up her hand to cover her face and decided to clean up with more
care before venturing out in public again.
    When she turned to go, however, he waved an
impatient hand. “You’re late. Volleyball? B team, new player?”
    B? B for beginner, of course. Before her head
could finish the first nod, a sinewy arm shot out and caught Beeca
in a bruising grip as the stranger marched her into a
high-ceilinged room swarming with people clad in shorts and tennis
shoes. Four separate nets were set up and the noise level was
incredible.
    Her captor shouted in her ear, “You’re late,
but it’s a good thing you showed up at all.”
    “I had a flat tire—”
    When he said “Wonderful!” in that hearty
voice, she had the feeling he’d have said that even if she’d just
announced she’d wiped out everyone in the building with an Uzi.
    “What’s your name?”
    “Becca—”
    “Nice to meet you, Becky,” He continued,
“We’d have had to forfeit with only five players and every game
counts when we’re getting so close to the playoffs. You missed
warm-up so you’ll just have to jump in cold.” He hustled her across
the gym floor to a huddle of two other men and two women.
    “Everyone, this is Becky.”
    One of the guys grinned at her. “You’re way
too short to be on the front line. Zach, shall we run the 6-2
offense? Two setters? Hey, don’t tell me you’re a spiker.”
    Gazing up at his towering height, Becca
didn’t plan on telling him anything, She’d wandered into a land of
giants. “I’m not exactly sure—”
    “I’m Zach,” the first guy interrupted. “We’re
up. Listen, we don’t run a lot of quick sets, us guys prefer the
hut/go. Charlie likes the pipe set while I’m always up for back row
attacks. Watch out for those overpasses.”
    “Sure,” she muttered, “if I knew what one
looked like.”
    One of the other guys slapped her on the
shoulder, leaving her arm number. “I’m Alex. When you’re in the
front, don’t forget to call the numbers on the Spread O or X
Series.”
    She nodded, but no one was paying attention
to her. Dazed by the flow of incomprehensible instructions, Becca
blinked at the volleyball in the hands of the man at her side. She
didn’t see any numbers.
    There was a brief captains’ meeting at the
net. Things were moving too swiftly for a beginner’s lesson. She
crossed her fingers, hoping fervently that they’d split into
smaller groups for instruction.
    Idly, she admired the trimly muscled thighs
visible beneath Zach’s navy blue shorts, remembering how his eyes
were almost a perfect