Zach slid onto the chair next to him. “Aren’t you going?”
Andy rolled the ball around in his hands.
“Hey, buddy, don’t you want to see all those planes?”
Andy stared at his hands and nodded.
“They’ve got a space shuttle flight simulator.”
The little boy twisted the sleeve of the tattered coat draped across his lap.
“Do you like space? I do. I wish I could go there someday. Don’t you?”
Andy shrugged.
Zach dug in his pocket and found the individually wrapped Frango mint chocolates—the best chocolate on earth—he carried with him every Tuesday. He held one out to Andy. Andy grabbed it from his palm like a hungry dog diving into a bowl of food. He tore off the wrapper and stuffed it in his mouth. The look on his face was pure heaven.
“Good chocolates, aren’t they?”
“The best. My grandma used to buy them every year at Christmas time, but she’s gone now.” His face fell at the memory.
This was the most Zach had ever heard him speak. “Is she gone to heaven?”
“Yeah. She gave us a home. Then she died. My uncle kicked us out of the house and sold it.” The sadness in his tone almost undid Zach. “That’s why we don’t have no place to live.”
“Hey, I’m sorry about that. You’ll get another house. Soon. I’m sure.” Zach clapped a hand on his bony shoulder.
“Before Christmas? If we don’t get one before Christmas, Santa won’t be able to find us.”
“Santa will find you wherever you are. He doesn’t need a house.” Zach stood and picked up the child, standing him on his feet.
“Let’s get a move on. Everyone’s waiting for us.”
Andy wrapped his tiny cold hand around Zach’s. “Do you have any more chocolate?”
Zach laughed, causing the boy to smile. He gave him another. “Here you go, but don’t tell the other kids. They’ll be jealous.”
The boy nodded. “It’ll be our secret.”
“Absolutely.”
Zach walked to the bus with the little boy holding his hand, warmed by the fact that he could bring joy to a small boy, even if only for a moment.
Chapter 17—Threading the Needle
Other than their weekly lesson, Zach barely saw Kelsie. She was busy running up his credit card balance with gala preparations, preparing his place, and working at the theater.
Despite her immersion in her work, she didn’t forget his image remake, even though he wished she had. Today, she’d twisted his arm and convinced him to get his scraggly hair cut and styled by her hair stylist. He’d only gone to a barber before.
He and Tyler were doing a press conference together today to disprove all the rumors floating around, and she’d insisted he look as good as Tyler.
Zach ran his hand through his now short hair. It’d been cut and styled this morning and girlie-smelling stuff had been massaged into it. He’d never live it down if his defensive line got a whiff of him. They’d brand him a wimp, and that’d be the end as he knew it.
“Don’t muss up your hair. It looks wonderful.” Horatio, the flamboyant little guy Kelsie hired to dress him and do last-minute preparations, assessed him, needle in hand. Zach considered him a man-sitter, an insurance policy that Zach would conform to her idea of how a man should look.
Zach rubbed his clean-shaven skin. He’d drawn the line at a manicure and pedicure. Next thing he knew, Horatio would be trying to paint his nails or God knows what. Good luck with that, buddy.
Horatio flitted around him, pinning the suit in places, sewing up a storm, then standing back and saying “tut-tut” every few minutes. Finally the little pest stood back and grinned. “You look gorgeous.”
Zach clenched his jaw. “Uh, thanks.”
“You two make a handsome couple.” The guy tugged on Zach’s suit pants, getting a little too close to Zach’s package for his comfort. He shot Horatio a warning glance threatening enough to send the man scurrying back.
“We aren’t a couple.”
“Whatever you say.” Horatio laughed as if he knew more than Zach did.
Zach had to admit his hatred for Kelsie had gone from a boil to barely a simmer. He’d fought his growing fondness of her at first, but lately, he couldn’t muster up enough anger to dislike her. She wasn’t the same person.
An hour later, Zach was at team headquarters, waiting for the press conference.
Tyler sauntered in looking like Mr. Spit-and-Polish to Zach’s spit. It didn’t matter how much you dressed Zach up, he still felt like what he was, a poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks. He tugged on his bow tie and refused to acknowledge the quarterback. Zach had been hoping to escape before Harris showed up with the next appointment, set up by Lavender. Those women were hell-bent on throwing the two men together.
“Damn. Is that you, Murphy?” Harris walked a circle around him, chuckling the entire time.
Zach refused to let the quarterback get to him.
“Wow. You clean up pretty good.” Tyler stopped in front of him and sniffed. “Whoa. You smell better than Lavender. Maybe you two can share perfume tips.”
It was going to be a long day.
~ ~ ~ ~
Kelsie stared at the phone for a long time after the federal agent had hung up. It’d been a courtesy call, so he’d said. Courtesy? Such a benign word for news that ripped her heart out and destroyed her newfound sense of security and self.
How could one call be so personally devastating?
She’d been doing so well. And now this.
Mark had been released from prison early for good behavior. He’d barely served a year.
He was controlling and possessive. She’d divorced him while he was in prison, and she doubted he’d let her have the last word.
Her safe little world came crashing down on her with that one phone call. She was deluding herself. She was still dependent on a man for the majority of her income. She didn’t have a sure thing when it came to her business. She had zero savings and no idea where she’d go from here once the gala was over, especially if things didn’t work out with Veronica.
She sank onto the leather couch in the living room and put her head in her hands. Sobs racked her body, and her shoulders shook.
Zack walked into the room. The look on her face must have stopped him in his tracks. “Kelsie?” he said tentatively. “Are you okay?”
She swallowed and a wave of tears stung her eyes. One lone tear escaped and slid down her cheek. Zach stepped forward immediately. He wiped the tear with an incredibly gentle touch for such a powerful man.
Zach wrapped his strong arms around her. As soon as she felt the confinement, waves of claustrophobia slammed through her, as if she’d been locked in a car trunk with no way out. She squeezed her eyes shut and fought the panic rising inside her. It wasn’t Zach’s face, but Mark’s face that swam in front of her, his eyes dark with an obsession to dominate her, show her his strength.
That had been his first step. Then came the subtle jabs to her fragile confidence, the tearing down of everything she’d worked to build. The criticism turned to ridicule and belittlement. Then the emotional abuse escalated into total isolation and control and on occasion turned physical. She couldn’t let another man do what Mark had done to her.
Only Zach wasn’t Mark.
He never would be Mark. Zach was one of the few good guys. Her heart told her so even as her brain battled her instincts, but the instincts won. She had to get free, get away, reestablish her control.
In an almost blind panic, she put her palms on his solid chest and pushed. Hard. Confusion clouded his features. He staggered back a few steps and stared at her with soulful brown eyes, like a golden retriever who’d been dumped off in a strange neighborhood—lost, alone, and abandoned.
“I’m sorry, I was just comforting you. I didn’t mean to assume.” He shuffled his feet, hands at his sides, and stared at his big feet.
Looking drained and beat
en, Zach hoisted the duffle bag he’d been carrying when he’d walked in the room. “I’ll go upstairs and leave you alone.”
She hugged herself and nodded. “That would be best.” Disgust rose inside her like the rapidly rising waters of a river in a flash flood. In his mind, she’d rejected him his kindness. In hers, she didn’t deserve him. Didn’t deserve a good man. Not a user like her. “Zach?”
He stopped in the doorway, hand on the doorknob.
“It’s not you, it’s me.”
His crushed expression said he didn’t believe her. His face hardened, and he turned away. A second later, the door shut behind him. He’d reached out to her, and she’d slapped down his kindness.
Self-loathing clawed at her gut, a wild beast ripping away all the bullshit to the despicable person underneath. Running outside to the porch, she gripped the railing and heaved huge gulps of air into her lungs. Kelsie squeezed her eyes shut and willed herself to get a handle on her emotions. Slowly, her breathing returned to normal. She slumped onto a patio chair.
She’d changed. She swore she’d changed. If one good thing came of those hellish years with Mark, it had to be her compassion for others, because without that she had nothing.
And for the immediate future, she had Zach, sweet, kind, rough-edged Zach. Instead of mounting his own attack, he’d backed off, like a true gentleman, more than Mark would ever be regardless of his polished manners and supposed good breeding. Oh, God, she was so confused. She should go to him now. Talk to him. Make him understand what was going on in her head, but she wouldn’t.
She crawled into bed and tried to sleep.
A few hours later, Kelsie gave up on sleep. She’d tossed and turned and played the entire night over and over in her head. She felt stupid. Really stupid. And weak. And she despised weakness, especially in herself.
She hadn’t healed from the damage Mark had done, and she so wanted to heal. She wanted to feel what it felt like to be with a man who treated her as if she mattered.
She wanted to sleep with Zach Murphy, the man who’d once hated her guts and was now her savior. He might still hate her, but his hate was waning.
She wanted to feel those bulging muscles ripple under her fingers. She wanted to rake her fingernails across his broad back. She wanted to wrap her legs around his waist and urge them both on to something incredible.
Sex with Zach would be incredible. She just knew it. Zach wouldn’t hurt her. She needed to believe that. Needed to trust her own instincts and to trust him. The only way to take a step forward instead of backward was to jump into the deep end with both feet and pray she could swim. It didn’t matter if she dog-paddled or treaded water as long as she didn’t drown.
Picking up her phone, she texted a message to Zach: Will you come to my room? Slipping out of her jeans and shirt, she left on the lacy bra and panties—matching—one of her only splurges. She quickly doused the lights and lit a few candles, then stood near the French doors and waited.
A few seconds later, the hall door opened, and Zach’s large body filled the doorway. The light from the hallway spilled into the room and cast shadows on his handsome face. He’d yanked on a pair of faded Levi’s and left the fly unzipped. No underwear. His bare chest, sprinkled with dark chest hair, rose and fell. His dark hair, still full of product, stuck up in several places with one wayward lock plastered against his forehead. He glanced around the room until he spotted her.
Kelsie sucked in a breath, managed a tentative yet encouraging smile. His eyes flashed with fire, though hooded with wariness. He ran his hands up and down his thighs. The action flexed his biceps. She cleared her throat, as one hand lifted of its own accord, wanting to stroke those football-honed muscles.
“What took you so long?” Despite the tremor in her voice, she kept it low and sultry, playing a seductress as best she could. As well as her fragile confidence would allow. Obviously, it was good enough for Zach.
“I, uh, uh…” Despite his size, he didn’t look intimidating. He looked as uncertain and insecure as she felt.
“Zach, come here.” She smiled at him, a welcoming, apologetic smile. “I’m sorry.”
“Nothing to be sorry for.” He shrugged one shoulder but didn’t move from the doorway. “What’s going on?”
“I, uh, got some bad news today.”
“What kind of news?”
“Mark’s out of prison. It brought everything flooding back, and I was in a panic. When you tried to comfort me, I panicked all the more. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Or to reject you again. The unsaid words hung between them.
Zach didn’t comment on Mark being out of prison. Instead he drew in a deep breath. He closed his eyes for a long moment. When he opened them, they glittered with determination. He walked across the room until he stopped a few feet from her. His dark eyes traveled up and down her body until their gazes met and held like a magnet to a magnet. The raw hunger in his eyes sent a thrill of fear and pleasure up and down her spine.
“I want you, Kelsie. I fucking want you. Turning you down that last time almost killed me. I can’t resist any longer.”
“Then don’t.” She reached up and cupped his face in her hands. “Zach, I find you attractive. Maybe too attractive. Perhaps that’s part of my fear. I just got out of a bad, long-term marriage. A really bad one. I’m gun-shy.” She inhaled the scent of this man and rubbed the pads of her thumbs across his stubble.
His dark eyes dilated, and his breathing sounded harsh.
Something warm and fuzzy took root in her heart. No one had ever trusted her to do the right thing before. Never. But Zach did. He’d come to her room tonight. He put his trust in her not to shut him down again. Maybe she didn’t deserve it, but she’d find a way to earn his trust.
“You’re the most beautiful man in the world, Zach Murphy.”
“You just like the new haircut.” A smile tickled the corners of his mouth. Kelsie loved making him smile. She stared at those lips like a woman seeing paradise after a long drought in hell, which was essentially pretty close to accurate. She wanted him, and common sense be damned. By the fire smoldering in his deep brown eyes, they just happened to be on the same page for once.
“I’m not sure that I didn’t like the old one better.” Standing on tiptoes, she pressed her lips against his. His mouth softened, his arms circled her waist, and he pulled her close. His erection rubbed against the thin material of her robe and rubbed something even deeper and long buried inside her. Her earlier panic stayed in its box, replaced by an undeniable truth whispering in her ears. This felt so right. So very right.
They kissed and her passion ignited like a match thrown on a field of dry grass, consuming all her senses. Zach tugged on the belt of her robe until it fell open. His hard chest pressed against her softer skin, singeing her with a heat hotter than a Texas summer sun.
She’d known all along, even back in ninth grade, that they would be a combustible match. The danger to her heart loomed so real and frightening, she sought to keep it from overwhelming her. She wouldn’t turn him down twice. She’d already bruised his ego one too many times. Tonight was payback for all she owed this man. And pay him back she would. Handsomely. Passionately. And without regrets. Tonight she’d give him her body and possibly something more. Much more.
Zach groaned and pushed the robe off her shoulders. He stepped back to stare at her with a sharp intake of breath. Kelsie let the robe slip to the floor and stood in the doorway with the moonlight bathing both of their bodies.
“You’re beautiful.”
“Thank you.” She looked him up and down. “So are you, in a very male way.” There was nothing remotely feminine about this man. Every square inch of his body was pure testosterone. Just the way she liked him. She lowered the straps on her lacy bra, reached behind, and unfastened it, letting it join her robe in a heap of silk and lace on the floor. Zach growled, a pure male sound from a man barely tamed by civilization. He reached out a large hand and tentatively cupp
ed her breast, running his fingers over it, as if memorizing every inch of skin. Bending his head, he sucked her nipple, so gentle and sweet the sensations almost undid her. She wasn’t used to gentle.
Her sexy linebacker lifted her in his arms and carried her to the romantic four-poster. After placing her on top of the down comforter, he lay next to her. His big hands stroked her body, naked except for an immodest G-string. She closed her eyes and willed herself to relax—not hard to do considering the magic web Zach wove around her.
Kelsie sighed and slammed the suitcase shut on her misgivings over being controlled, along with her other dysfunctional hang-ups. She closed her eyes and enjoyed his rough hands roaming gently over her body, as if she were the orchestra and he the conductor. She wanted to make beautiful music with him all night long.
Zach’s tongue and mouth lavished more attention on her nipples than he did over the television during Monday Night Football. Oh, dear, now she was even thinking like him. He slid his free hand down her ribs, across her belly, and under the minuscule crotch of her G-string. He cupped her mound and lifted his head. “You shave.”
She nodded, unable to form one coherent word.
“I like that. I like a woman bared to me in all ways, including her body. Are you bared to me, Kelsie? All of you?” His husky voice reverberated through her body, sending pulsing waves of passion to the center of her sex.
“I’m trying,” she gasped.
“That’s good enough for now.” Zach eased his large index finger past the folds of her opening. She tensed slightly, expecting pain out of habit. Zach hesitated. His eyes met hers with a thousand unspoken questions lingering in his dark gaze. She turned her head away, not wanting him to read how far she’d sunk with Mark, how much she’d tolerated, how little she’d thought of herself.
Offsides: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Book 3) Page 17
