Backfield in Motion (20 page)

Bruiser pried her body away from his and
held her at arm’s length. “What the fuck was that for?”

“My friends will never believe I’m with you
if I don’t give them a picture.”

This was not the way to get information out
of the woman. Or was it? Bruiser read the lust in her eyes. Hating
himself, he slid his hand under her skirt up between her legs,
touching her wet panties and rubbing. She pressed back against him.
“You want more of that?” he asked.

“Yes, you know I do.” Her voice was
slurred.

Bile rose in his throat, and he fought the
overwhelming need to retch.

“Then give me something. That was the deal.
What do you know about Will? Where’s his body buried?”

“You’ll have to fuck me to find that
out.”

Bruiser didn’t want to, not one bit. Fine
time to find his moral compass. “I’m seeing someone.”

“So?”

“I don’t screw around when I’m in an
exclusive relationship.”

“Well, I don’t give out prime info for
nothing.”

“You could try helping the family out, you
know. You’re not friends with Sonja anymore, so why keep her
secret?”

“You don’t know what she’s capable of. I
like breathing. It keeps me alive.”

“Is that what happened to Will? Did he know
something that killed him? Were his wife and his friend embezzling
from the business?”

By the way Trudy’s lips puckered, that was
exactly what happened. “I think you need to either fuck me or leave
now.”

Bruiser hesitated. He couldn’t do this, not
even for Mac and her father. He could not fuck this woman. It
cheapened whatever he and Mac had, whatever the hell that was. With
a quickness that made him legendary on the football field, he
grabbed her phone, erased his picture, and walked toward the
door.

“Bastard!” She called after him, “You know
how to reach me if you change your mind.”

“So do you.” Bruiser left, conflicted as
ever, wanting to do the right thing by Mac and her father, yet not
sure what the right thing was.

* * * * *

Monday night Mac sat on her couch next to
Bruiser as he surfed sports channels, watching three different
baseball games at one time. The scene struck her as so domestic,
one repeated by couples across America. Only they weren’t a couple.
She wasn’t sure what they were.

“Do you know what’s wrong with Brett?”

“Not sure what you mean.” Bruiser’s jaw
tightened, a definite sign of guilt in her book.

“He’s avoiding me, like he’s pissed. Do you
think it’s because I turned down another date with him?” Mac
watched him closely. He avoided her gaze, staring at the TV even as
a telltale muscle jerked in his strong jaw. “Bruiser, what
happened?”

With a sigh, he turned to her. “He knows
about us, and he’s not happy. He thinks I’ll use you and walk
away.”

“How does he know about us?” She certainly
didn’t want to be the weekly gossip at Jacks’ HQ.

“I didn’t say a word. He just figured it
out. He won’t say anything”

“I’m a big girl. I’ll handle my own sex
life, thank you. I’m glad he knows. I really am.”

“Yeah, I know, but he feels betrayed.”
Bruiser put his arm around her and pulled her close, and Mac had
the distinct feeling it was more to comfort Bruiser than her.
Brett’s reaction really did bother him.

“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt him.”

“Me neither. I’d give anything to see him
find a woman and be happy, but it’s out of my control.” Bruiser
buried his face in her hair, nibbling on her ear lobe.

Mac pushed him away. “Calm down, mister. I
need to ask you something before you get too carried away.”

He pulled back a little, his expression
wary. “Sure, as long as it doesn’t have a thing to do with
Trudy.”

“It doesn’t, I promise. I understand there’s
a huge charity event this weekend. A big deal. I need more time
with Veronica. Would you escort me?” Mac knew she was taking a
chance. She would get time with Veronica, but was seeing her with
Bruiser a help or hindrance?

“You have an invitation?”

“Well, no, but you do. It’s a charity that
the Jacks—and you—have supported for a long time. The burn
foundation.”

“Yeah, I know.” That muscle ticked harder in
his jaw, and suddenly the Mariners seemed to hold more interest
than seducing her.

She’d hit that nerve, the same one she’d hit
before. “What’s the score?”

He blinked a few times and looked at her.
“Of what?”

“The game you’re so engrossed in?”

“I, uh, don’t know.”

“You don’t have a clue, do you?” Mac socked
his arm, trying to steer the conversation from serious to playful.
“So what about taking me? I’m not asking for you to declare that we
have a relationship, just to take me as a friend.”

“Do we have a relationship?” He turned to
her, all serious, as his gaze searched hers, as if he’d find the
answer somewhere in her eyes.

“A sexual one.” She didn’t know how else to
answer that question.

“Mac,” he stared at her, his gaze earnest,
“I suck at relationships. The last one I had ended in disaster. I’m
not going there again. Not for a long time.”

“I understand.” Everyone knew Bruiser had
been married and that his ex-wife had dumped him for an NFL
third-string quarterback. Mac didn’t know the details, but
obviously the woman had laid waste to Bruiser’s heart.

“Actually, you don’t. Not really. I’m
damaged goods, and there’s not a thing you can do to fix me.”

“I’m not asking for anything deep.” She
wanted to reassure him and herself. “This is just a physical thing,
and we have to keep it quiet. Veronica won’t react favorably to
it.”

“I haven’t told anyone.”

And he wouldn’t, she thought. He was ashamed
to be seen with her as a girlfriend. She didn’t fit his image. He
didn’t have to tell her that. She already knew it. He could use
every excuse in the book, but the truth was as obvious as Mountain
Morse, the team’s all-pro tackle, when he lumbered into the
room.

“That doesn’t mean I won’t take you as a
friend. Everyone knows we’re buddies.”

Oh, lord, is that what they were? Fuck
buddies? She’d reduced herself to being this guy’s plaything? She
thought she had more pride than that, but apparently not.

Bruiser continued, “I’ll seat you next to
Veronica, and it’ll be up to you to impress the hell out of her.
I’ll help in any way I can.”

“It’s my last chance, and I appreciate your
help.” Mac played it cool, just like he did, even though her heart
cracked open a little.

“Did you and your dad find out anything on
your weekend away?”

Smart man for the swift change of subject.
“No. A dead end, a rumor, nothing substantial. Pretty much a waste
of time.”

“Have you ever considered telling him that
you can’t keep living your life like this?”

Had she ever? Hell yes, but Bruiser pointing
out the obvious irritated her because the statement struck too
close to home. She didn’t like being reminded of how much time
she’d spent searching for her brother, how much of her life she’d
given up and how it netted them nothing but pain. “I can’t desert
my dad. He needs me.”

“I’m not telling you to do that. Just start
living your life for you, not for someone else.”

“Who says I’m not living my life exactly how
I want to?” Defensiveness snuck into Mac’s tone. The nerve of the
man telling her how to live. He should talk.

“Are you? I don’t think so. For example,
this new look of yours isn’t really you.”

“How do you know it isn’t me? Maybe it is,
and I just figured that out.” Now he’d really pissed her off. She
liked looking more like a woman than a tomboy. Did he really think
so little of her that he couldn’t fathom she had a woman’s wants
and needs?

“Believe me, I know. I’ve spent the better
part of my life being someone I’m not.” He spoke softly, almost
like he didn’t want her to hear. He twined his fingers with hers,
staring at her hand as if it held the answers to life’s
questions.

Mac stared at him until he looked up and
their gazes held. “You? You seem to be exactly who you want to
be—the league pretty boy who exploits his good looks for money any
way he can.”

Disappointment crossed his strong features,
“Things are not always as they seem. What do you think I do with
all that money?”

“Spend it on designer clothes and exotic
vacations,” Mac quipped, in a lame attempt to be funny.

“Yeah, that’s me. Superficial right down to
my bone marrow.” Bruiser pressed his lips together in a flat line.
“Maybe I should go.” He stood, his body tense and rigid.

Mac’s pride didn’t allow her to beg him to
stay. “Maybe you should. I have to get up early.”

Bruiser’s scowl said he knew why she was
getting up early. Tomorrow was Saturday. Another pointless chasing
of tips or hashing over the same clues.

A few minutes later the door shut behind
him, and she heard his car drive off, once more leaving her alone
with her doubts.

Chapter 14

Saturday night, Bruiser straightened his bow
tie, smoothed out his tux jacket and eyed himself with a critical
eye in the hallway mirror. He’d avoided Mac for an entire week and
been as cranky as a caged grizzly bear, opening himself up for all
sorts of ribbing from his teammates in the workout room, which
pissed him off all the more. Now he was feeling a rare combination
of annoyance and excitement over seeing Mac again.

His cell rang, and he picked it up, half
expecting Mac to back out on their date, and hell, it’d been her
idea. His idea would’ve involved never stepping outside her house.
He held the phone up to his ear without looking at the number.
“Yeah?”

“It’s Elliot.” The kid sounded tentative,
almost scared.

“Hey, bud, how’s it going?” Bruiser softened
his voice, his irritation melting away.

“I know it’s late.”

“Nah, it’s actually pretty early, but you
can call anytime. How are things at your foster parents’?” Elliot
had been released from the hospital recently and put in a foster
home until his aunt and uncle came back from their mission in South
America.

“It’s okay, but that’s not why I called.”
The foster parents meant well, but they were too busy, had too many
kids, and too little time, leaving Elliot lonely and scared.

“Okay, then what’s up?”

“I need to do this. I need to go.” Elliot’s
voice wobbled as if he might cry.

“Go where?” Bruiser felt as if he’d walked
into the middle of a conversation he knew nothing about.

“Tonight. To that fancy ball.”

Bruiser’s mind raced to catch up to this
conversation. He’d only mentioned the ball in passing, but Elliot
knew some of the burn victims would be attending with parents and
staff. “Are you sure you’re ready?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever be ready unless I
just do it.”

“True.” He’d preached that very same mantra
to countless kids over the years.

“Could I go with you?”

“Your foster mom isn’t going?” Bruiser
scratched his head, not sure what the hell was really going on
here.

“She’s busy. If I think about it much longer
I’ll chicken out.” Elliot’s earnest voice struck Bruiser right in
the gut. Mac wouldn’t mind, and Elliot needed him. He’d let down
too many people in his life. He couldn’t let down this kid when he
needed him most.

“Sure, I’ll pick you up. I have to pick up
my date first then I’ll swing by.”

“Oh, you have a date? I’m not causing any
issues, am I?”

Bruiser smiled. What kid his age talked like
that? “Not unless you hustle my girl.” Bruiser choked on the words
that slipped out of his mouth.
My girl? Girlfriend?
He’d
been hit too many times in the head over the years. He didn’t keep
a woman around long enough to call her a girlfriend. And he
definitely didn’t keep them around long enough to be considering
the most painful four-letter word in the English language.

“Hey, if she falls for me over you, what can
I say? It’s the old Elliot charm.”

Bruiser had to laugh, thrilled to give
Elliot something to be happy about. “I’ll be there in about
forty-five minutes.”

“Great, I’ll be waiting.”

Several minutes later, Mac’s front door
opened and a vision of hot, sexy loveliness swam before his eyes.
He grabbed the porch railing to steady himself and tugged on the
collar of his dress shirt with his free hand. Damn, it was hot all
of a sudden.

She smiled at him through lowered lashes. It
was so unlike Mac to be shy, but it really flipped his switch. The
male part of him loved the skin she showed, from the low neckline
of the slinky gold dress to the slit up the side showing a good
length of shapely leg. Another deeper part of him was not entirely
comfortable with this stranger.

“So what do you think?” Her eyes sparkled,
and she whirled around.

“You look—” He tried to think of the words
but couldn’t. “I’m stunned.”

“A good stunned?”

“Oh, yeah.”

He got into the car and drove down the
street. “You’re beautiful with or without the clothes and makeup. I
don’t want you to feel like you have to change for me or anything
else.”

“I do if I want to impress Veronica. We both
know she’s superficial like…” Mac’s hand flew to her mouth.

“Like who? Like me?”

“No, that wasn’t what I was going to say.
Insert any spoiled diva’s name.”

“Well, thank God you don’t think I’m a
diva.” He should’ve let it drop, but he couldn’t.

She turned on him with mischief in her eyes.
“You’ve been known to be a diva. You’re always making sure your
hair is perfect when you take your helmet off. The guys think you
must carry a mirror everywhere you go.”

“True, that,” he conceded to an argument he
couldn’t win. “So…there’s one more thing.”