Backfield in Motion (26 page)

He looked to each one of his teammates.
Every single asshole wore a stupefied expression on his face,
except Harris, and he was nodding. This was not good to be on the
same side as Harris. What did that say for Bruiser and his
judgment? The only place Harris displayed good judgment was on the
football field and by picking Lavender.

“Mac’s had a crush on you for the last
couple years. Everyone knows it. Plus, she’d make a great mother.”
Derek warmed to Zach’s crazy-assed idea.

Bruiser rubbed the back of his neck and
stared hard at nothing. Mac? A crush on him? He’d suspected it the
past few months, but for a few years? The thought seemed
outrageous.

“Yeah, and she’d be devoted. She’d never
cheat. She’s not that type.” Brett added.

Bruiser wanted to pound his head against the
wall, but it already hurt like hell. “Sure, she’d be a great mother
if she didn’t spend every spare minute looking for a brother she
will probably never find.”

“That’s her father playing on her guilt.
It’s tragic how good people do dumb-shit things and are completely
oblivious as to how much they’re screwing up their kids,” Brett
said.

Not one to keep his mouth shut, Zach offered
more uninvited advice. “You could ask her. The worst she can do is
spit in your face.”

If they thought that was the worst thing Mac
could do, they didn’t know Mac very well. Bruiser liked to keep his
privates intact and functioning, not to mention his heart, though
it’d already taken a beating because of one little blonde
groundskeeper.

* * * * *

Almost a month had passed since Mac and
Bruiser did their version of breaking up, which essentially meant
they didn’t sleep together anymore. Their affair had been short,
sweet, and hot, but Mac took some comfort in knowing she lasted
longer than any of Bruiser’s other relationships in the past three
or four years.

Mac still hung out on Monday nights at
O’Malley’s with the team, along with Bruiser, both of them playing
the part of friends without benefits. She missed him more than
she’d ever admit, and not just the sex. She missed those blue-gray
eyes that could light up the darkest world and make her believe if
only for a short while everything would be fine. She missed his
quick wit and his storytelling abilities. She missed the gentle,
generous soul who worked with burn victims and made their lives
that much better. She just flat out
missed
him, but she
doubted she was even a blip on his radar.

After all, a new football season lurked just
around the corner, and Bruiser loved his football.

The team was deep into training camp after
winning its first two preseason games, led mostly by Brett and the
defense. Tyler never played much in preseason; his arm was too
valuable to risk. Brett lived for preseason and actual playing time
in a game situation. Bruiser—as usual—immersed himself in football
to the exclusion of all else.

Like Mac didn’t know
that
story. Her
father became more rabid than ever to find her brother, spending
money he didn’t have on private detectives, going places he
couldn’t afford to go, and looking so rough he’d been mistaken for
a homeless person more than once.

More to keep busy than because of any
optimism, Mac spent nights and weekends poring over old evidence
and hunting down new clues, yet nothing wiped Bruiser’s teasing
smile from her memory. She could still feel his skin against hers
and his lips on her lips.

Late Friday night, Mac still couldn’t get
Bruiser out of her mind. She walked down the hallway near the
locker room on her way to her car. Bruiser burst around the corner
and slammed into her, ramming her into the wall and knocking the
wind out of her. Before she could sink to the floor, he grabbed her
waist and hauled her to him. For a moment, she leaned into him,
savoring the feel of his hard body, breathing in his freshly
scrubbed scent, and forgetting her best intentions as she drowned
in those warm blue-gray eyes. And they were warm tonight. Very
warm. He felt so right, so strong, so confident.

And yet he was so wrong for her.

“Whoa, there. Keep that up, and we’ll put
you on defense, sweetheart. Not that I don’t mind. Not at all.” He
slipped into his charming act so easily Mac wondered who he’d been
practicing it on lately.

Bruiser gazed down at her with his sexy half
smile and laughing eyes. Lord help her, she wanted to taste him,
lick him, and get him naked, not necessarily in that order.

He set her back on her feet. “You okay,
babe?”

“I think so.” She wasn’t okay. She was way
beyond okay and nudging toward the screwed-up end of the scale.

He eyed her with concern gentling his eyes
as he absently rubbed his stubble. “You’re here late tonight.”

An obvious observation, but she kept her
sarcasm under wraps. “We can’t take care of the turf when you’re on
it. Besides, I could say the same of you. Practice ended hours
ago.”

“That’s how dedicated I am.” He grinned his
full-blown panty-dropper smile. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
Bruiser held open the door for her and walked beside her to the
parking lot.

They’d almost reached her car when Vince
sauntered up. “Hey, Bruiser. You guys are looking good this year.”
The jerk ignored Mac as if she were an insignificant speck of dirt
on the asphalt. As usual.

“As long as we stay healthy.” Bruiser turned
to walk away, taking Mac by the arm and steering her the last few
steps to her car.

Vince called to Mac, faking sympathy. “I’m
sorry about the scholarship, Mac. Maybe next time.”

Mac stopped in her tracks and spun around.
“What do you know about the scholarship?”

Vince’s hand flew to his mouth in an
unconvincing display of contrition. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. Veronica
didn’t tell you?”

“Tell me what?” But she already knew.

“I was awarded the scholarship.” He
delivered the gut punch and then smugly nodded at Bruiser and
strutted off.

“Asshole,” Bruiser muttered. “Mac, I’m
sorry. Really sorry.” He stared at her, tucking one stray blonde
strand behind her ear in a gentle gesture that nearly undid
her.

“Not as sorry as I am.” A sob rose past her
throat. She hiccupped. Oh, fuck, she wasn’t going to cry, was she?
She rarely cried, even over her brother. She just didn’t cry.

“Come on, sweetheart, let me buy you
dinner.” Bruiser’s truly sympathetic gaze melted her heart.

She hesitated. It was a stupid, foolish
idea, but she didn’t want to go home alone. Or even worse, to go
home and find her father there spying on the neighbors. He’d been
spending more and more time in the evenings at her house watching
Sonja and Ben, who’d been much more active in their garden lately,
almost like they were taunting Craig.

“Okay.” She ignored the little voice telling
her this was
so
not a good idea as she climbed into his
car.

They found a dark corner booth in
O’Malley’s. She didn’t complain when he slid next to her, put his
arm across the back of the booth, and his muscled thigh pressed
hers.

She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. He handed
her a napkin. “I really wanted that scholarship.”

“I know, honey, I know.” He hugged her close
to him, tucking her under his arm, with the same possessiveness he
gave a football as he busted his way through defenders.

Mac turned her head and buried her face in
his broad shoulder. It seemed the most natural thing to do. She
sniffled again. The pathetic whimpering sound escaping from her
constricted throat sounded like an abandoned puppy.

The lost scholarship was the last straw. All
the anguish she’d suppressed over the past three years bubbled up
and swamped her.

Bruiser held her to him as she sobbed into
his chest, unable to staunch the flood of tears. Her breathing came
in staccato gasps of pure sorrow. Nothing had gone right in her
life since Will disappeared—except Bruiser. And that hadn’t lasted.
Sure, he was here now, but only because he was one of the good
guys, and he wouldn’t desert a blubbering woman.

When she lifted her head, he dabbed gently
at her tear-stained cheeks with a napkin. Despite his gentle smile,
his eyes shone with fierce determination, as if he’d slay dragons
for her—or even the Pittsburgh Steelers defensive line. It’d been
so long since anyone worried about her well-being that she almost
lost it again. A wet splotch on his shirt gave evidence to the
extent of her tears.

“What am I going to do?” Her voice sounded
weak and plaintive. God, she hated weak women, and she’d become one
herself.

“The best you can with the hand you’ve been
dealt, and I’d put my money on you any day.” Straightening in the
booth, he looped his arm loosely around her shoulders, his hip
pressed against hers. She laid her head on his shoulder.

“Thank you.” Along with the gratitude,
desire wrapped its tentacles around her rib cage. Her body signaled
its interest, and her brain, as usual where Bruiser was concerned,
took a vacation.

“I’m truly sorry, Mac. Especially for my
part in this.”

“Your part? You had a part?” What did he
mean? She twisted around and placed her hands on his shoulders and
searched his face.

“Yeah, when Veronica suspected that you and
I had something going, and she didn’t like it one bit. I think your
association with me hurt you more than helped you.”

Mac sighed. “Is that why you broke it off?”
If there might be a ray of hope in this crappy dark cloud hanging
over her, it would be that Bruiser didn’t really want to end their
affair, but that he’d done it for her.

“Yeah, that was part of it, along with not
liking to talk about my brother.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “We
were damn good together. You know that?”

“Yes, we are.” Mac chewed on her lower lip,
then just blurted it out. “Come home with me tonight.”

“I was hoping like hell you’d ask.” His
slow, sexy smile drove home how happy he was.

“Where is this going?”

“Fuck if I know. Let’s just go with it.”

Mac nodded. Maybe she was crazy, but she was
ready to take the journey with Bruiser. After all, some of the best
road trips happened when she’d didn’t know where she was going
until she got there.

Chapter 18

Bruiser pulled his car behind Mac’s in the
driveway. He had to stop for gas, so she beat him home by about
five minutes. The front door was open, and he invited himself
inside. Mac stood by the kitchen counter staring at an envelope in
her hand. As Bruiser came up behind her, he caught the Lumberjacks’
return address on the letter.

Oh, crap.

Mac’s hand trembled, and Bruiser squeezed
her shoulder to steady her. She stared at the envelope long and
hard.

“Are you going to open it?” He sent up a
silent plea that Vince, the jerk bastard, didn’t know a damn
thing.

Mac ripped the flap off the envelope and
read the letter. By the crestfallen look on her face, no such luck.
The letter fluttered from her fingers to the floor.

Bruiser held her to him. “I’m sorry.”

Mac sniffed again and leaned against his
chest. Bruiser kissed her hair, inhaling the intoxicatingly fresh
scent of her. Pure Mac, forever engrained in his mind.

“This is just not my day.” She tried to
laugh, but failed. Together they stood in silence staring out
across the backyard, both lost in private thoughts.

Finally, Mac turned to face him. She wrapped
her arms around his neck. Despite the remnants of tears on her
cheeks, she managed a smile just for him, one that snuggled close
to his heart and made him feel special, not for the superficial
reasons everyone saw, but for the person inside.

He pulled her close, holding her tight
against him and lost his heart and soul gazing into those deep
coffee-brown eyes of hers. She felt right, a rightness that went
beyond mere lust and, despite some of the more obvious differences,
fit him better than a custom-made tuxedo or an old pair of favorite
faded blue jeans.

Picking her up, he carried her outside to
the back patio. He figured bed could wait. She’d feel better out in
the yard she took such good care of, with the crickets chirping and
frogs croaking and the sound of a breeze rustling bows of cedar
trees.

Mac didn’t question his intent, just clung
to him, trusting him.

He wanted to be that man for her, the one
who stood beside her through all the good and bad things life threw
at them, the one who fought tooth and nail for her, the one who
gave her everything and got more from the giving than the
receiving.

But he couldn’t give her everything. He
couldn’t solve her brother’s mystery any more than he could change
Elliot’s situation. Maybe for a while tonight they could both
pretend he could be that guy who could make everything okay—even if
it was an illusion.

He laid Mac on the chaise lounge with the
overstuffed cushion covered in bright Hawaiian flowers. Glancing
around the dark patio and out at the tall fence he doubted anyone
would be able to see them. At this point he didn’t really give a
shit anyway. He just wanted Mac to fill the piece of him that went
missing whenever she wasn’t around and to be her missing piece in
turn.

The only way he knew how to do that was with
his body because his glib tongue deserted him when the stakes were
too high. Words weren’t adequate, words he couldn’t say or even
think.

So he turned off his mind and gave in to his
heart.

* * * * *

Mac gazed up at Bruiser standing over her,
looking like a lost little boy carrying the weight of the world on
his shoulders. She knew the extent of that weight after
conversations with Shanna and Brett, but she wasn’t going to say
anything. More than anything she wanted him to trust her enough to
reveal his secrets himself.