Backfield in Motion (18 page)

She slid her gaze appreciatively over the
muscles in his arms. “So you’re slummin’ with the common folk. Must
be a slow day.”

Bruiser offered her a slow half smile, the
one ladies told him dripped with sex appeal. “Yeah, I’m a little
bored.” He caught her quick glance behind him, obviously checking
to see if he was alone. Without asking what he wanted, she popped
the top on a microbrew and slid it across the counter. Bruiser took
a long pull then met her gaze.

“You remembered.”

“I always remember what my customers drink,
especially ones that look like you.”

Bruiser held his beer bottle up in a
salute.

“So what’s the deal with you and Mac?”
Trudy’s shrewd gaze didn’t seem to miss a thing, a definite
challenge to his powers of persuasion.

“No deal. Just know each other through work.
Never met her dad until the other night.” At least that much was
true. He leaned forward, faked interest he didn’t feel, forced his
gaze to roam over the curves revealed by her tight, low-cut shirt.
Her nipples stood out against the fabric. Normally, that would’ve
turned him on, but instead it repulsed him.

“He’s a crazy-assed old man.”

“You think?” Bruiser fought the urge to rip
her a new one, even though what she said was probably true. “No
shit.”

“He stalked Sonja like she’s some common
criminal and he’s a fucking FBI agent.”

“Is she a common criminal?” The minute the
words escaped, he regretted them.

Trudy’s eyes narrowed to little slits. “You
sure they didn’t put you up to this?”

Bruiser scrambled to do damage control. “Why
the hell would I do something for them? I barely know either of
them.”

She scowled and suspicion played across her
features.

“Aw, come on. Surely, you’ve heard enough
about me to know I’m in it for myself. What do
they
have to
offer me?”

Trudy nodded slowly, as if the truth finally
dawned on her. “Yeah, I can believe that. Fucking with Mac would be
like being with your brother.”

Bruiser bit the side of his cheek until he
tasted blood. Hell, Mac had more sex appeal in her genuine smile
than Trudy had in her entire fake body and made-up face. But now
was not the time to defend Mac’s honor. “Yeah, she’s like one of
the guys.”

“But I’m not.” Trudy moved closer to him,
toyed with the collar of his shirt. Bruiser held his breath, trying
not to cringe. One of the patrons yelled across the room for
another beer.

“Hey, hold onto your shorts. I’ll be right
there.” Trudy shot the man a murderous look, then ran a red-tipped
fingernail across Bruiser’s chin and gave him a come-fuck-me looks
as she poured her patron a drink.

Bruiser let out his breath as soon as Trudy
and her perfume moved out of his space.
Fuck. Damn. Hell.
He’d pretty much have to fuck the woman to get any information out
of her. Possibly more than once.

He didn’t know if he could do that. Not that
she was bad looking, and she had a nice body even if a little
overdone, but hell, what would Mac say?

And why did he care what Mac said? He
was
doing this for her after all. She
should
say
thank you. Yeah, right, like any decent woman alive would thank him
for stooping that low.

Trudy came back to the bar and leaned across
the counter, making sure that her boobs just about fell out of her
tight shirt. Bruiser glanced down and found the entire spectacle
boring. What the hell was wrong with him? One night with Mac, and
he couldn’t appreciate another woman, especially one with assets
like Trudy’s on display?

Taking a deep breath and begging
forgiveness, Bruiser stuck to his script. “Mac’s a piece of work.
How well do you know her?”

Trudy eyed him with enough street-smart
wariness to alert him that he hadn’t reeled her in yet. “Not well,
just what her sister-in-law has told me.” She slid up next to him,
her perfume preceding her, and rubbed the back of his neck. Bruiser
stiffened for a moment then willed himself to relax.

“Yeah, from what I heard from the guys on
the team it’s sorta tragic, but after all the years, time to move
on, don’t you think?” Bruiser pasted an innocent expression on his
face.

Trudy chewed on her lower lip for a moment.
A slow, malicious smile crossed her face. He’d never done innocent
well, but Trudy apparently bought his act. She leaned down and
spoke in a throaty whisper. “They’ll never find him.”

“Is that speculation or fact?”

“Maybe a little of both.” She crooked a
finger at him, drawing him closer. “But I can guarantee he’s never
coming back.”

“I assumed as much.” He shrugged one
shoulder as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “Dead?”

She glanced around the room. Satisfied no
one was paying them any attention, she turned back to Bruiser. “I
might know more, but you want the info, you gotta pay.”

Bruiser tried to smile, but his face hurt.
He suspected the expression stuck on his face was somewhere between
a grimace and a maniacal grin. “The answers don’t really matter to
me.”

She raised both eyebrows. “I close about
midnight. What are you doing later?” She ran a finger across his
lips, down his chin, throat, and to the collar of his shirt. “One
night with you could have me telling
all
my secrets.”

The Bruiser of even a week ago would’ve met
her later without a second thought. It was just sex, and Bruiser
loved sex as much as the next man. But a night with Mac had fucked
up his self-centered priorities and left him unsure of his
direction. He needed time to contemplate his next move and
determine how far he was willing to go for answers that might give
Mac and her dad some closure.

He slapped his forehead in mock dismay. “Oh,
crap. I forgot. I need to help my sister with something tonight.
How about a rain check?”

“I’m here every night this week.”

His acting skills were getting pretty good.
“Great, I’ll be back.” Before he could screw things up, Bruiser
paid and hustled out of there.

Instead of heading home—the smart thing to
do—he headed for Mac’s house.

Fifteen minutes later, he broke the
remaining promises he’d made to himself since his divorce and
rapped on Mac’s door.

* * * * *

Mac woke from a sound sleep to someone
pounding on her front door. She sprang up from the bed, heart in
her throat, not even bothering with a bathrobe over her nightshirt.
Middle of the night news was never good.

She ran for the door, stubbing her toe on
the coffee table in the process and hopping the rest of the way on
one foot. Throwing open the door, she fully expected her father in
some state of insanity, but the muscular blond man standing on her
porch was
definitely
not her father.

“Bruiser?”

One corner of his mouth tipped up, and he
cocked his head sideways. “Were you expecting someone else? You’re
killing my ego, darlin’.” He clutched his hands to his chest, and
Mac laughed in spite of herself.

“Uh, no, I just wasn’t expecting you.” Her
heart did a cartwheel up and down her spine.

“Can I come in?” Bruiser smiled again, not
so cocky this time. His apparent uncertainty was winning her over,
sucker that she was.

“Uh, I don’t think this is a good idea.” She
knew how this would end if she let him in the door.

“I just spent the last hour at the bar where
Trudy works.”

“You did? Did she say anything?”

“Let me in. I don’t want to talk about it
out here.” He glanced around as if expecting paparazzi hiding in
the bushes.

Mac let him in and bolted the door. Bruiser
sat on the couch and she sat next to him, too anxious about
possible news to worry about them sitting too close.

“What did she say?”

Bruiser took her hands and squeezed them.
“Mac, I—are you sure you want to hear this?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting three
years to hear this.” Mac leaned forward, gripping his hands like a
lifeline.

Bruiser heaved a deep sigh. “I asked her
what happened to your brother. She said you’ll never find him.”

Even though she’d suspected as much, had
prepared herself for bad news for the past three years, hearing the
actual words relayed from someone with probable insider knowledge
made her stomach drop to the basement of her house. “Did she say
how she knew that?”

“I asked if she knew something or if she was
speculating. She said a little of both.”

“That’s the most we’ve ever gotten out of
her.” Mac stared at their hands with fingers intertwined
together.

“Are you okay?” The genuine concern in his
voice almost undid her.

Mac nodded, not trusting her voice.

“I can get more information depending on how
far I’m willing to go.”

Mac frowned and held his hands tighter.
“It’s not worth it. Don’t compromise yourself.”

“Not worth it to finally find out what
really happened to Will? Not worth it to make Sonja pay? Not worth
it to set you free of your guilt and give you back your life and
your father his peace of mind?”

Mac considered his words for a moment, and
her answer surprised her. “To me, it’s not. I can’t ask you to
compromise your integrity.”

He looked shocked, then pleased. “You think
I have integrity?”

“I know you do. You don’t fool me one bit,
Bruce Mackey.”

“Look, I know what it’s like to lose
someone. You can’t change what happened, but I can’t imagine not
knowing. That would make me crazy.”

“How do you know what it’s like?” Mac
searched his blue-gray eyes for answers but only found that glimmer
of pain. “Who did you lose, Bruiser? Your brother?”

He set his jaw, and his eyes froze over like
a granite lake. “That subject is off limits.”

Mac nodded, feeling crappy that he didn’t
trust her enough to share his pain. Pulling her hands from his, she
rose and walked to the French doors and stared into the night
across the wide expanse of lawn.

Sonja and Ben were sitting down by the lake
on the beach around their fire pit, laughing and drinking beer with
friends, Will’s old friends. Her throat constricted, making
breathing difficult. If she let it, the bitterness and anger would
eat her alive.

Bruiser walked up behind her and put his
arms around her waist. He nibbled on her neck. “I want to do
it.”

“No. Definitely, no.” She fought to keep the
desperation out of her voice. She looked over her shoulder at his
face.

“Why not?” A smile tugged at the corners of
his mouth as he turned her around. “Afraid Trudy will damage my
integrity?” Bruiser placed his big hands on her hips.

Mac chewed on her lower lip and looked up at
him through lowered lashes. “Maybe.”

“Don’t worry about it. If there’s anything
of my integrity left to guard, I’ll take care of it.”

Mac put her hands on his shoulders and tried
to push him back. She might as well have been trying to move her
house with her bare hands. He swung her around and backed her
against the arm of the couch, pressing his erection against her
crotch.

She fought for the words that seemed to be
diving overboard at an alarming rate, deserting that sinking ship
that was her brain. Oh yeah, it had sunk, right down to the wet
spot between her legs.

Bruiser pulled at the delicate skin on her
collar bone with his teeth.

“You’re not nearly as selfish as you pretend
to be,” Mac panted.

“You think?” He licked his way up her neck
to her ear.

“I know.”

“That’s your fantasy, so you can keep
it.”

His face was so close to hers she could see
a little scar just above his lip. One slight imperfection. It made
him more real, more vulnerable.

“Now I want my own fantasy.” He picked her
up and headed for her bedroom.

One night could be considered a brief fling,
but two nights would lead to a third, and another, and another, and
then she’d be left with a broken heart and nothing more. Only she
didn’t give a damn.

Maybe there was a bit of her daredevil
brother in her after all.

* * * * *

Bruiser set Mac on her feet, stripped off her
oversized T-shirt and tossed her on her bed. A moment later his own
clothes dropped to the floor.

She stared up at him, looking incredibly
seductive and naïve all at the same time, so much like the old Mac
before his teammates’ wives had made her over. While the new Mac
got his heart thumping and pulse racing, the Mac underneath struck
him as a woman he could actually depend on, which would be a first
in his life.

“Do you trust me?” He
needed
her
trust because he thought, in a weird way, it would help his own
inability to trust.

She nodded.

“Give me a minute.” He knew exactly what he
wanted. Hurrying to the mud room, he grabbed a handful of long zip
ties out of a box of heavy-duty lawn bags on the shelf by the back
door. Yeah, these would have to do the trick. He strode back into
the room, dangling them from his fingers.

Mac lifted her head. Her eyes got big and
her eyebrows rose, almost disappearing into her hairline. “What’s
that for?”

“If you have to ask, I’ll need to show
you.”

“You’re not going to use those on me?” She
started to get up.

He pushed her back down, his hand just below
her breasts, and pinned her to the bed. “A little more control over
the lady on the bed while I’m driving her fucking nuts drives me
fucking nuts, too.”

“You’re going to tie me up?” Her mouth
formed a big “O” while her eyes danced with
Bring it on.

“Uh, yeah.” Bruce crawled onto the bed. Mac
giggled and made a leap for freedom, but she was no match for
Bruiser’s athletic moves. He pinned her to the bed again, this time
straddling her rib cage right snug up against her breasts. He took
a moment to appreciate those nice breasts as they rose and fell
against his crotch and thighs. Mac squirmed underneath him, making
a show of attempting to get free, but not putting much effort into
it.