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.”
She tilted her head in the cutest damn way and studied him. “And that is?”
“I need to pick up someone else also.”
“Someone else?” He heard the unmistakable sound of her teeth grinding together. “Don’t tell me you double-booked yourself for tonight.”
He grinned at her. “That would present some interesting possibilities.”
She punched him in the arm, not a wussy girl punch, but one with some power behind it. Actually, it kinda hurt and most likely would leave a bruise.
“Damn, woman, good thing I’m not the quarterback or you’d be explaining to Coach what happened to my throwing arm.”
Mac snorted like the old Mac. No ladylike snort for this woman. “Who is this person we’re picking up?”
Bruiser did a quick rundown of Elliot and his history. “So if you’d treat him like you’d treat anyone, I’d appreciate it. You don’t have to avoid the subject, but don’t stare either.”
“Trust me. I can handle this.”
Mac was telling the truth. He sensed it, and it made him appreciate her all the more.
* * * * *
Mac sat in the car as Bruiser went to the front door of the modest ranch house in a run-down neighborhood of look-alike seventies-era houses. Children’s toys littered the dandelion-filled front lawn, and rhodies grew wild next to the house, obscuring the windows.
A few seconds later Bruiser walked out the front door, his arm around a small, scrawny kid in an ill-fitting suit. The kid wore a Steelheads baseball cap pulled down over his head and big black-rimmed glasses. Shoulders slumped, the boy kept his head down, and immediately, her heart melted for him. When he glanced up, she smiled. He didn’t smile back; instead he ducked his head again. Pity overwhelmed her, but she’d be damned if she’d show it. That would be the last thing a kid with his kind of injuries would need.
Bruiser opened the back door and the boy climbed in, but he didn’t look at Mac as he strapped himself in.
Bruiser slid into the driver’s seat. His expression undecipherable, he half turned to look in the back seat. “Mac, this is Elliot. Elliot, my friend Mac.”
“Hi, Elliot. I’m glad you could join us.” Mac reached back and offered her hand, but Elliot kept his hands in his lap, fingers clenched. She patted him on the arm instead.
After a tense silence, Elliot looked up at her. Mac was struck by his brilliant blue eyes framed by long lashes and magnified by the thick lenses, set in a face covered with blotchy red burn scars and skin grafts.
He was so small, so vulnerable, and she instantly fell in love with the little boy who’d seen too much tragedy in his short life, a child left behind by those he loved the most. Even though it wasn’t his parents’ choice to leave, nothing changed the fact that they were gone. Forever. Just like her own mother and Will.
“Are you really glad I joined you?” Elliot spoke quietly.
“Of course I am, and so is Bruiser.” Mac smiled, looking him straight in the eyes, past the scars to the part of him that really mattered.
“Yeah, buddy, we’re going to have a good time. You’ll see.” Bruiser started the car and steered it out of the depressing neighborhood.
Elliot turned his attention back to Mac. Distrust shone in his eyes and something more—some of the same shared tragedy she recognized in Bruiser and herself. Oh, God, she wanted to reach for him, wrap him in her arms, and make the hurt go away. If only it were that simple.
“So, Elliot, what do you like to do for fun?” Mac hoped her question was safe enough.
“I like to read.”
“Really? What do you read?” Mac glanced at Bruiser when she heard his chuckle.
“Everything, mostly classics.” Elliot almost smiled, and Mac patted herself on the back for finding a subject of interest to him.
“Wow, you like the classics? That’s impressive for someone your age.”
“My parents had me reading before I started school. I miss them.” Elliot swiped a tear that welled in his eye.
“Oh, Elliot. I’m so sorry, honey. I know how it feels to lose someone you love. I lost my mom when I was really young.”
Elliot nodded, looking incredibly old and wise for someone so young. “Bruiser gave me a Kindle, and I get to download any book I want on it.”
“Maybe you can recommend a few books to me.”
He perked up at the suggestion. “I could do that.” And just like that, the floodgates opened. Elliot talked their ears off about several different classics, Tom Sawyer being one of his favorites, until they pulled up to valet parking at the hotel hosting the charity auction. He clamped his mouth shut and hunched over, hugging himself.
Bruiser opened the back door for him, while Mac stood off to the side. “Come on, buddy. You’ll do fine.”
“I’m scared.” Elliot didn’t look scared, he looked terrified and ready to bolt at any time.
“We’re here with you every step of the way. You’ll have fun because you’re with me, and I’m in charge of the fun crowd.”
Elliot reached for Bruiser’s hand, and Bruiser wrapped the boy’s small hand in his big one. His encouraging smile held nothing but kindness and concern.
Mac stood next to them, staring from one to the other. Bruiser obliterated her remaining misconceptions of him as thoroughly as a china teacup run over by a bulldozer.
Elliot looked up at Mac. “Will you hold my hand too?”
“I will.”
Together the three of them walked into the hotel, hand in hand as if they were a family, which was both weird and wonderful.
* * * * *
An hour later, Bruiser stood in the corner of the huge ballroom decorated with all sorts of shiny crap. Several of his teammates debated the merits of play-action versus West Coast offenses. Bruiser only half-listened. His gaze kept straying to Mac and Elliot, halfway across the room, holding court with three defensive rookies. He’d never seen the kid smile so much. Mac and the guys carried on an animated conversation with him, obviously including several jokes. Hopefully PG-rated, but Bruiser doubted it. Mac could tell off-color jokes with the best of them.
The rookies paid no mind to Elliot’s appearance, but they sure as hell paid attention to Mac’s appearance, flirting with her, touching her, pretty much moving in on his territory.
Well, not really his territory, but he didn’t like them hassling Mac.
He turned to Zach, not caring that he was interrupting Zach and Harris’s current debate. “Hey, get your boys in line. They’re pestering Mac.”
Zach frowned, looking puzzled. He
glanced around the room and spotted the rookies. “She looks like she’s having a great time to me.”
“Yeah, unlike you.” Harris never missed one damn fucking thing on or off the field. The guy had eyes like a bald eagle bearing down on a mouse in a clearing. “You’ve been watching her all night long. Like what you see, Bruiser?”
“It’s nothing like that. Not a damn thing like that.”
Every one of the assholes started laughing at him. Bruiser hated being laughed at as badly as he hated fumbling the ball after a first down. “Fuck you, Harris.”
“If that’s an invitation, sorry, buddy, you’re not my type. I prefer Lavender.”
Bruiser rolled his eyes while the other guys chuckled, enjoying a good laugh at his expense. Ignoring the idiots’ catcalls, he made a beeline for Mac only to have Veronica block his path.
“Going somewhere, Bruce?” Her conniving smile told him more than he needed to know. She’d also noticed his preoccupation with Mac.
“Just to check on Mac. Those dipshits are bothering her.”
Veronica glanced at Mac, then refocused her sharp gaze on Bruiser. “You came with her, didn’t you?”
“Uh, yeah, just friends.”
“Then why are you so jealous you’re ready to knock some rookies’ heads together?” Veronica was as astute as Harris, which didn’t give Bruiser much of a chance.
“I’m protective. Like a big brother.” He grinned his most innocent grin.
Veronica rolled her perfectly made-up eyes. “And I’m naïve like an Amish girl.”
Bruiser chuckled at the thought of Veronica dressed like an Amish woman until the look of death—his—crossed her face. He quickly shut his mouth. He wasn’t helping Mac’s cause by needling Veronica, so he stepped around her accusations like the minefield they were and directed the conversation to the reason he’d brought Mac here in the first place.
“You should spend some time with Mac. She’s well-deserving of that scholarship.”
“More than Vince?”
“Definitely more than Vince. You value my opinion, right?” Bruiser looked over Veronica’s shoulder. His mouth tightened into a grim line when a rookie defensive back put his arm across Mac’s shoulders.
“Not when you’re sleeping with her.” Veronica’s no-bullshit glare tested his acting skills, but his innocent grin didn’t seem to earn any points with her.
“Mac and me? She’s like a sister.”
“Yeah, and I’m like a nun.”
“You’re full of one-liners tonight. Seem a little tense. Maybe you need to call one of your boy toys and get laid.”
“Maybe you need to be laying off—not on—my employees.”
“I’m not. I swear.” He smiled at her with fake sincerity, shaking his head vigorously.
Veronica squinted at him, obviously not buying his bullshit. “I saved seats at my table for you, Elliot, and your sister.”
“Come on, Ronnie. Mac deserves that scholarship. No one works harder than she does, and she only has two years left to finish her degree.”
Veronica waved at some tuxedoed businessman across the room and left Bruiser wondering how big of a hole he’d dug for himself.
And Mac.
But first he had some rookie heads to knock together.
* * * * *
Mac seated herself across from Bruiser and Elliot. Veronica slid into the chair next to her.
Rather than making Mac the prey of the evening, Veronica actually played nice, which Mac figured might have more to do with the way Bruiser glared at her than any personal interest in Mac.
Bruiser chatted up Veronica and the other guests, always careful to include Elliot, entertaining them with stories of his exploits.
Elliot stared at Bruiser like a kid worshipping his big brother and hung on his every word. She’d never expected the pretty boy to have such an affinity for kids with disabilities, especially when the camera wasn’t on him. Yet as the night wore on, Bruiser protected Elliot while encouraging him to socialize, and nothing about his actions appeared the least bit self-serving.
But what the hell did she know about Bruiser other than he was damn good in bed, had a dead brother he refused to talk about, and loved attention? A public person on the surface, the real Bruiser was as elusive and private as a hermit. She didn’t know the Bruiser behind his public mask any more than she knew where her brother’s body was buried.
When the program started, Bruiser walked up front and took the podium. He talked knowledgeably about the Brice Foundation and the important work they were doing. He related an emotional tale of a teenager whose life went from storybook to horror story in a matter of seconds—the long surgeries, the pain, and the shame of being disfigured—followed by a slideshow of kids in various stages of recovery from serious burns.
By the time the pretty boy was done, even tough-guy Zach Murphy—a known tightwad—wiped his eyes and pulled out his wallet as the bidding began for the charity auction.
Bruiser actively bid on several expensive items. He was the highest bidder on a few, but he sure as hell drove up the bids on others. Veronica opened her purse, too, participating in a spirited bidding war with Bruiser and Tyler for Mariners’ luxury suite tickets. Bruiser won, but he spent some big bucks to do it—ten times what the tickets were worth.
Afterward, an exhausted Elliot fell asleep in the back seat. Mac waited in the car while Bruiser carefully carried him into his foster family’s house. She rubbed a hand over her heart, and a small smile tugged at the corners of her mouth at this glimpse of Bruiser’s tender side. When he came back out, she saw a different man. Yeah, she still saw his raw male beauty, handsome face, and muscles on muscles, but she also saw a generous, caring man who looked beyond a child’s imperfections and worked to heal his heart. Despite being labeled superficial and shallow, the real Bruiser beyond the slick underwear ads and hard-hitting football player had shattered the mold Mac and everyone else put him in tonight.
The big question was why did he hide this crucial part of who he was? Mac wanted to know, needed to know that Bruiser. But to know him like that required their relationship to move to a different level—a level Bruiser had already stated was off-limits.
Bruiser cast a melancholy smile in her direction as he got in the SUV. He pulled out of the driveway and steered toward the freeway. Mac studied his strong profile with that cleft in his chin, those chiseled features so perfect and flawless he could’ve been carved by a master’s hand. But to her the real person, with his flaws and weaknesses, was more beautiful and perfect than his outward appearance.
Bruiser shot a quick glance at her, catching her gawking at him. His mouth kicked up in his half smile. “Awed by my absolute awesomeness again, are you?”
Mac smiled back, picking up the teasing banter. “You’re a legend in your own mind.”
“Elliot likes you.” He sobered a little. Mac got the distinct feeling it was important to him that she got along with Elliot.
“I fell in love with him. He’s so damaged, so vulnerable, yet he has a sharp wit older than his years, and he’s so brave.”
Bruiser nodded. “I fell in love with him too. Not very many people can look beyond his burns to the real person inside. In fact, aside from the staff at Harborview and the mothers of the kids, I rarely run across a woman strong enough to treat a kid like him with acceptance and without pity. That’s really important to those kids.”
“I can only imagine how I’d feel.” Actually, she couldn’t begin to imagine how it felt to know people were staring at you everywhere you went.
“I try not to get involved too deeply because at the end of the day, I’m only one small influence in these kids’ lives. But Elliot is a different case, and he was from day one. All these other kids have family to support them, but not Elliot. At least not until his aunt and uncle return from their mission. For now, the staff, doctors, foster parents, and me—and now you too—are all he has.”
“I’m flattered to be included
. I’m not sure I’ll be of much help, but I’m here.”
“You were more help than you realize. Elliot loved having a beautiful lady on his arm tonight, loved that the rookies were vying for your attention when you were with him. I didn’t love it much though.”
Mac frowned, attempting to process his words. “Love what?”
“The rookies. I almost bashed a few heads together.”
“Why would they bother you?”
Bruiser stared straight ahead, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. “I’m taking Elliot to that Mariners game Saturday. It’s a big deal for him to go out in public like this. Would you like to go? He could use the support.” He’d changed the topic and didn’t answer her question, and she’d really wanted an answer.
“Saturday?”
“Yeah.” Bruiser held his breath, as if hoping she’d say yes. “Please, for Elliot. I can tell he really values your company.”
Mac was torn, but she’d promised her father she’d spend the day with him. She’d been putting him off a bit lately. “I can’t. I promised my dad I’d help him.”
“Your dad, again? When do you get time for yourself?” Bruiser’s mouth drew into a thin line as he tapped on the steering wheel, the tension in the car as thick as bullshit in a locker room.
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I. Elliot will be sad.”
Mac really was sorry. She sighed, full of regret and something else. Fear. Fear of the way things were changing. Fear of turning a corner and never being able to go back to blissful ignorance. This Bruiser gave to others, had flaws and weaknesses.
Despite how physically impressive Bruiser might be, the man under the mask was even more irresistible.
Chapter 15—Free Agent
Bruiser slogged through fog as thick as the Puget Sound mudflats. An oppressive haze surrounded him, tightening its grip on his chest until his lungs burned from the effort of breathing. The cloying mud sucked at his feet and pulled him deeper, slowing each step and multiplying the effort it took to move.
Several feel away, Brice lit a match. Laughing, he taunted his brother, waving the match back and forth. Desperately Bruiser shouted a warning to his twin but the words jammed in his throat and strangled him.
Draw Play: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Book 4) Page 16
