Bruiser opened his mouth to lie and deny everything, but he closed it.
“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Brett stared so hard at him that Bruiser wiped his mouth, certain some remnant of the chicken wings he’d been consuming at an alarming rate were on his chin or something.
Bruiser stared at his beer, knowing GUILTY might was well be tattooed on his forehead.
“You and Mac?” Brett’s face fell, as if he’d just been betrayed by his last friend in the world. Maybe he had.
“I—Uh, it just happened. Nothing we planned on.”
“You knew I had a thing for her, and you still went after her?” Brett leaned forward, his hands fisted.
“It didn’t happen like that.” Liar. No, he’d just pursued her, invited himself into her bed, and fucked her brains out. And not just once or twice.
“She’s always had a crush on you, and now you’re using it to get in her pants. Man, you really are a shallow, selfish asshole.” Brett’s disgust and disappointment was as loud and clear as the ferry’s fog horn on a zero-visibility day.
Bruiser shook his head. “It’s not like that.” Yeah, right, idiot, and what is it like?
“Bullshit. She doesn’t understand guys like you. You’re just toying with her. She’s a novelty to you, but you don’t give a shit about her.”
Bruiser tried one last time to salvage the best friendship he had. “Brett, I—I didn’t mean for it to happen. We’re just enjoying each other’s company. She knows the score. She’s fine with it. Please keep this private. It could jeopardize her chance at that scholarship if Veronica finds out. She wouldn’t approve of the two of us.”
“I doubt Mac does know the score. And don’t worry, I won’t tell a soul. Your dirty little secret is safe with me.”
“Look, man, I never planned for this to happen, especially for it to end our friendship.”
“I trusted you. Saw more in you than most people did. This is what I get for being an idiot. You couldn’t even tell me the truth. I bet the whole team knows you’ve been screwing Mac except me.”
“Seriously. No one knows. She hasn’t breathed a word to her girlfriends.”
“You’re a sorry ass. You don’t appreciate what you have. If I had a woman like Mac, I’d treat her with the respect she deserves and shout it to the heavens. You hide her and make sure no one knows because it makes it easier for you to move on down the road. And your roads are damn short.”
“Brett, I was wrong. I should’ve told you.”
“Yeah, you should have.” Brett rose to his feet, his face red and his jaw rigid. “I’d like to beat the crap out of you, but assaulting you isn’t worth going to jail.”
With that, his only true friend in the world threw a twenty on the table and stomped out of the bar, back stiff, head held high.
Bruiser stared at the door long after it closed behind Brett. He’d screwed up. Again. Every time he got close to someone, he hurt them. He couldn’t do a damn thing right except smile and play football. He was a fucking failure as a person, and Mac would be next on his Bruiser-fucked-up list, because that’s the way he rolled.
* * * * *
An hour later, Bruiser sat on a barstool in a different bar, doing his penance.
Trudy put up the CLOSED sign and locked the door of the bar. She’d been drinking behind the bar for the past hour and could barely walk, while he’d sipped on the same single bottle of now-warm beer.
She came straight to him and didn’t waste a moment. Her fingernails dug painfully into his scalp, her mouth ground against his, while her body did its own grinding. Usually a hot woman in this position got Bruiser in the mood, only tonight it didn’t work for him. His dick stayed completely uninvolved, like a disinterested bystander. He kissed the woman back, swallowing his revulsion.
She slid her hands down the back of his jeans and cupped his ass, smashing her hips into his crotch. It wasn’t erotic; in fact, it hurt like hell as his balls got squashed by her crazy-assed attempt to have sex fully clothed. A flash of light jerked him backward. She was holding her cell phone out and the camera light was on.
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 promi
se. 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
Out of the Huddle
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 h
is 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.”
Backfield in Motion Page 15
