Down by Contact - A Seattle Lumberjacks Romance (4 page)

Fuck, but Zach hated the quarterback like
he’d never hated anyone in his life. Harris had disrespected the
game last year by resting on his laurels and not giving
one-hundred-percent. His teammates picked up the slack and won
another championship, no thanks to him.

Sure, they’d won the season opener this
year, and Harris looked decent, but Zach needed hell of a lot more
proof than one lousy game. As defensive team captain, he spent
every waking hour living and breathing football. He expected the
same dedication from the team’s offensive leader. So far, they left
the training facility about the same time every night and were the
first to arrive in the morning, but it’d take more than working
overtime for Zach to believe in Harris’s renewed commitment. Not
that the QB gave a shit what Zach believed.

Only on the football field did Zach belong,
doing the thing he’d been born to do with guys who thought like he
did. Everywhere else he felt out of place and awkward. His thoughts
took a side street down memory lane to one such moment. Zach
grimaced and stared at the grass. Odd, the most painful memory of
his life was a high school dinner date rather than losing a big
game or missing a crucial tackle. He still recalled the flash of
pity on Kelsie’s face as her attorney father raked him over the
coals and her snooty mother puckered her lips in disgust at his
table manners. He’d been an idiot to think he could fit in with the
country club set. His first date with Kelsie quickly became his
last. She’d invited him to the country club ball, not because she
liked him, but to make her boyfriend jealous and so the rich kids
could make fun of him and his backward ways and shabby clothes.
She’d betrayed him and thrown him to the wolves—her friends and
family. Then she sat back and watched them degrade him, never once
coming to his defense, even when the cops cuffed him and hauled him
off to jail.

Zach crushed the paper cup into a wad and
slammed it into the garbage can.

What was she doing in Seattle of all places?
The last he’d heard, she’d married Mark Richmond. Her high school
sweetheart and a former high school quarterback who was now a
Houston attorney with political aspirations. Kelsie should be
living a life of luxury in some glitzy suburb, not serving dinner
at a Seattle banquet.

“Daydreaming?” Tyler Harris strutted by and
snapped his fingers in Zach’s face.

“Fuck you.” Zach gave Harris the middle
finger.

The jerk laughed. “Hit a sore spot, huh?
What woman has you all tied up in knots? And here I thought your
brain circuits linked only to pigskin. Maybe it’s the gorgeous
waitress from the other night?”

“You’re full of shit.”

“Yeah, really? Looked to me like you had the
hots for her. Never seen you drool over a woman like you did over
her. Well, guess what, buddy? You owe me one.”

“I don’t owe you a damn thing. Stay out of
my business.”

Tyler laughed, the kind of menacing laugh
designed to put Zach on high alert. The jerk thought he had one up
on Zach and damned if Zach knew what it might be.

“Lazy asses! Quit trading recipes and get
your sorry butts out on the field.” HughJack glared at them with
his trademark take-no-prisoners glare and slammed his clipboard to
the ground. Standing not far from HughJack, Veronica shook her
head, disapproval etched a deep frown on her beautiful face. Not
good.

Zach strapped on his helmet, and sprinted
onto the field. One play later, he knocked Harris on his ass.

* * * * *

With a heavy sigh, Kelsie stood on the
sidewalk in the September sun and watched the cars drive by on the
busy Seattle street. She’d been rejected again, one more rejection
out of a thousand job rejections.

She’d hoarded what cash she had left, using
it sparingly by sleeping in her car the past several nights, eating
fast food, and taking showers at the Y. During the day, she hung
out in the library and searched the Internet for any job for which
she might be qualified—which wasn’t much given her lack of
experience.

All the while, she watched her back, never
knowing if and when her ex-husband might appear. As if he cared
enough to track her to the Pacific coast. After all, she was nobody
to him. He’d harassed her while she lived in Houston, but once
she’d left, surely he’d forgotten all about her. Except Mark
Richmond never forgot, especially considering his political
ambitions. He kept his enemies for a lifetime and obsessed over
them like a bad drug. She feared she hadn’t heard the last of
him.

He couldn’t believe she’d dared to divorce
him, but she’d done just that, selling her Mercedes to pay for the
best attorney possible. He fought her every step of the way. Not
that he wanted her, but he saw divorce as a failure. He didn’t do
well with failure. So he cut off her credit cards, spread false
stories to families and friends, and ruined her reputation. The
court had decreed a small divorce settlement, but it’d come in the
form of monthly payments, which meant he’d need her address or bank
account information. She’d walked away knowing she’d never see the
money, a small price to pay for freedom and peace of mind.

Not that she had peace of mind, even out
from under Mark’s tyranny. Men watched her hungrily as she stood in
line at the soup kitchen, and a small gang of teenage boys taunted
her whenever she walked by. Last night they’d followed her, and
she’d run to the safety of her car and sped away. She’d spent a
restless night in her car clutching her little poodle, Scranton,
and praying they didn’t find her. This morning she’d been ten
minutes late for her interview.

With a tired sigh, Kelsie ducked into a
small coffee shop and ordered a small cup of drip coffee, even as
her taste buds craved a double mocha with whip. She counted out her
change. Unable to afford a tip, she smiled apologetically at the
barista. Setting up her computer, she connected to the wireless.
Dozens of emails from Mark filled up the screen, each one angrier
than the previous one. Mixed in were messages from her mother,
father, and brother, all chastising her for leaving Mark for
another man and breaking his heart.

If they only knew. She didn’t have another
man. The last thing she wanted was another man in her life,
attempting to control her every move and emotionally breaking her
down until she became a shell of her former confident self. Mark
had almost destroyed her, turned her into a walking/talking Barbie
doll with no mind of her own. In some ways she figured it was her
penance for being such a selfish bitch in her teenage years.

She stared out the window as the
never-ending rain pelted the glass. Across the street, a tall man
huddled under an awning. He wore a dark trench coat and a fedora.
The sunglasses on his face drew her attention. No one wore
sunglasses on a gloomy day like today. She squinted and pressed her
face closer to the window. The man removed the glasses and locked
gazes with her. Her heart rate sped up, and the hairs rose on the
back of her neck. A smug smile crossing his nondescript face sent
her reeling away from the window.

She’d seen the man before.

This morning when she left the Y, he’d been
there.

And last night, he’d sat at a table near her
in Burger King as she ate dinner.

And now here he was across the street.

Kelsie swiped a hand across her forehead.
She hugged herself, suddenly cold even though she was sweating like
a jumper on the Brooklyn Bridge.

Had Mark tracked her down, found her haven?
But how? She’d run halfway across the country, avoided using
anything that would have her name attached to it, gotten a
different car, and been virtually homeless.

Unless—

Zach.

It had to be Zach. He’d called someone back
home and told them, and the news got back to Mark.

She’d have a word with the Neanderthal. No
more cowering and hiding. She’d confront him for what he’d
done.

She didn’t want to run anymore.

* * * * *

Weary and nursing the mother of all
headaches, Zach trudged out of the training facility. Sometimes,
well, most times, he didn’t think the facility was large enough for
both him and Harris. Especially tonight when Harris stayed to watch
game film and hogged the remote, refusing to replay or slow-mo when
Zach asked. Damn, when the season ended, he’d beat the living crap
out of the asshole, teammate or not.

Zach stopped dead in his tracks when someone
stepped out of the shadows and blocked his path. As soon as the
dark figure moved into the dim light of the street lamp, he
recognized the tall, slender body. “Kelsie?” He glanced around,
wondering if she waited for someone other than him.

She stalked up to him, fists shoved against
her thighs. Her entire body radiated anger. “Did you tell him?”

He blinked several times and tried to make
sense of her words. “Tell who?”

“You did, didn’t you?”

“Who’s him? Tell them what?”

“That you saw me.”

“I never told anyone anything.”

“You did. You called someone back home and
told them.”

“I don’t have contact with anyone in Texas.
Haven’t for years.” He tiptoed lightly around this female landmine.
If the explosion didn’t kill him, the shrapnel from her anger sure
as hell would.

“Are you sure?” She deflated a little. Her
shoulders slumped, and her chin lowered. Her eyes dimmed a
little.

“Positive. I might be a lot of things, but
I’m not a liar. You should know that.”

The remainder of her anger fizzled like the
remnants of a sparkler. “But if you didn’t tell him then who’s
following me?”

“Someone’s following you?” Despite his vow
to remain distant, his stomach knotted at the thought she might
possibly be in danger.

Kelsie swallowed and wrung her hands,
looking everywhere but at his face. She stared at his midsection so
long he clasped his hands to his thighs to stop from fidgeting.

“Kel, is something wrong?”

She raised her head. “Don’t they pay you
enough money to buy decent clothes?”

He bristled and looked down at his wrinkled
pair of sweats and worn cross-trainers. “They’re comfortable.”

“You’re a professional athlete. Get it.
Professional
. You should dress like one, not like a homeless
person who’s been sleeping under a bridge.”

“How I dress is none of your damn business.”
How the hell did this become about him?

“Thank God for huge favors. I could use a
few right now.”

“Well, then, I’ll do you another favor. I’m
outta here.”

She grabbed his arm and hung on. “Zach.” She
searched his eyes. “Did you call someone back home and tell them
you saw me? Like my ex-husband?” For a moment, panic crossed her
face, and the sheer terror in her eyes stopped him in his
tracks.

“That prick? Are you kidding? I didn’t tell
anyone from
home
anything about you. I try my best to forget
about that place.” He’d done enough in his life to apologize for
without being bitched at for something he didn’t do. Then it hit
him. “Your ex-husband?”

“Yes. My
ex
-husband.” She lifted her
chin, her eyes bright with defiance and stood straight and tall,
like the Kelsie he remembered.

“I can’t blame the guy. You had to be a
bitch to live with.”

“Whatever.” She blasted him with her
I’m-better-than-you-and-you-know-it glower. She hadn’t changed a
bit. Then her lower lip trembled, like a woman about to—

Cry?
Oh, crap, not again. He’d fall
right into whatever current web her black-widow heart weaved,
trapping him like a wayward fly. “You’re mistaken about me.”

“Am I?” Despite her brave words, her voice
quivered slightly.

“Hell, yes. You’re mistaken to think you
mean enough to me that I even gave you a second thought after a few
nights ago.”

“Oh.” She deflated like a tire with a nail
in it.

That pissed him off because he felt guilty
for hurting her, like he should give a dang. “I didn’t tell a
fucking soul.”

“You didn’t?” Her face paled, visible even
in the dim light.

“No, I didn’t.” He lowered his voice and ran
his fingers through his unruly hair, pushing it out of his eyes.
“I’d tell you if I did.”

“I assumed—”

“You assumed too much. You’re still
impressed with your own importance, aren’t you? Why don’t you quit
playing your games and go back to your sheltered life?”

Much to his shock, strong-willed Kelsie’s
face crumpled. Tears flowed down her cheeks like beer from a
freshly tapped keg. She pressed her hands against her eyes and
sobbed. Her shoulders shook. She hiccupped several times, gulping
in huge gasps of air as she sobbed like a toddler who’d just taken
a header off her high chair.

Zach’s feet took root in the pavement and
refused to move. His tongue back-flipped to the roof of his mouth
and stuck there, rendering him incapable of speech. His heart
reached out to her, even as he fought to shove it back into place.
Damn it almighty, he felt sorry for her. She’d manipulated him
again, despite all the cruel things she’d done to him over the
years. One word from her, and he’d lay his emotions down in front
of her and gladly offer himself as her personal doormat.

Only she didn’t say the words. She grabbed
her car keys and sprinted to her compact car as if the very devil
dogged her heels, a compact car that appeared to be piled high with
boxes.

Shell-shocked and speechless, Zach stood in
the middle of the parking lot and watched her back out of her
parking spot. Kelsie, the consummate mean girl in high school,
never cried. This vulnerable version of Kelsie threw him off
balance, despite her bluster and anger, he sensed a current of fear
ran deep in her. Sucker that he was, he felt sorry for her. And
something else. Something dormant but never dead. The poor boy
still wanted the beautiful, unattainable girl, his private fantasy
and his public hell.