Backfield in Motion (31 page)

“Because he doesn’t love me.”

“Think about it. You’ll have more than a lot
of marriages starting out. Besides, who says he doesn’t love
you?”

“He’s never said he does.”

“I didn’t know I loved Zach or that he loved
me. Yet I think we did marry for love. We just didn’t recognize it
for what it was.”

Mac mulled over Kelsie’s words, then
rejected them as ludicrous. Sure, the sex between she and Bruiser
scorched right to their souls. They had chemistry, and they had
common interests. But Mac secretly believed in romance and love and
all that mushy crap. She wanted a forever love. Maybe her
expectations weren’t the least bit realistic. Maybe she should
lower them.

“Do you guys have mutual goals in life?”

Mac jumped, startled out of her musing. She
didn’t really have
any
goals anymore. Since neither of them
lived their own lives but their versions of what others expected,
they were a sorry pair.

So why was she even considering it?

For Elliot?

Or was Elliot a way to justify something she
wanted to do for herself?

* * * * *

When Mac pulled in her driveway later that
evening, Elliot leapt up from where he’d been sitting on the front
porch. He wore a hooded sweatshirt, which had to be too warm for
the weather, a baseball cap, and baggy jeans, not the fashionable
kind popular with some kids, but ones that were a size too big.

“Elliot? What are you doing here?” Mac
glanced around. Bruiser couldn’t have brought him. He had flown out
yesterday morning to the East Coast for the game—not that she was
keeping track of his schedule or anything. He wouldn’t be back
until late tonight.

“I needed to get out, and Bruiser is gone.”
Elliot smiled hopefully at her while he fidgeted with a strap on
his backpack.

“It’s almost eight-thirty. Does your aunt
know you’re here?” Mac wouldn’t be swayed by the kid’s attempt to
charm her.

Elliot shuffled his feet and stared at the
ground. “Uh, not really.” Then he glanced up quickly with an
engaging grin. “I was bored. I came to see you.”

“How did you get here?” Mac unlocked her
front door and Elliot followed her in.

“I rode the bus.”

“Elliot, you need to call your aunt, then
I’m taking you back home.”

Elliot plopped down in on the step. “I’m not
going. I’ll just run away again.”

“Please, I can’t keep you here.”

“Because you don’t want to.” Elliot sniffled
and rubbed what little was left of his nose. Mac handed him a
tissue.

“It’s not that simple.”

“It
is
that simple. Why don’t you
just marry Bruiser? We can be a family.” Elliot perked up and
managed a lopsided grin that reminded her oddly of Bruiser.

Mac gave him her best evil eye. “Wherever
did you come up with an idea like that?”

Elliot pursed his lips and shrugged, putting
on an innocent act. “Just thought it sounded good.”

“Did Bruiser put you up to this?”

The kid regarded her with a puzzled frown.
“Uh, no, why would he?” He pushed his glasses up higher on his
nose.

It was Mac’s turn to be flustered. “No
reason.”

“I heard Aunt Ruth talking to someone on the
phone. She said she’d transfer guardianship to Bruiser because he
has the means to help me, while they don’t, but she needs to make
sure that the atmosphere is adequate.”

“And that means he needs to be married?”

“Yeah, and settled down. I mean he’d have to
stop his modeling and stuff.”

“I see.” Mac thrust her phone at him.

“Aunt Ruth says modeling half-naked is the
devil’s work.”

Mac nodded, trying not to laugh at the image
of Bruiser doing the devil’s work complete with pitchfork and
pointed tail.

“So why don’t you marry him?”

“It’s complicated.”

“That’s what all adults say when it’s really
pretty easy.”

Okay, this conversation needed to end now.
Right now. Elliot was essentially a runaway. “Call your aunt. Let
her know I’ll be bringing you home right away.”

“I made a friend at school.” Elliot changed
the subject so quickly Mac took a moment to catch up.

“Good for you.”

“We play chess together.”

Mac smiled, happy to see Elliot adjusting
well but refusing to fall for his attempt to distract her. “Good,
good. Now call her.”

Mac went into the kitchen and waited for
Elliot to finish his call then she picked up her car keys. “Let’s
go.”

“She’s mean to me. My uncle stares at me
really funny, and not just because of how I look.”

Mac hesitated, the hair rising on the back
of her neck. “How does he stare at you?”

“Just—weird. I can’t really explain it. Like
he thinks I’m a sinner he has to save.”

Mac hoped like hell that’s all it was.

A lone tear ran down Elliot’s cheek. “I miss
my mom and dad. Mom always read to me at night from the classics,
and Dad helped me with my science projects. These people don’t
believe in reading anything but the Bible.”

“Well, the Bible is a good book.” Mac was
trying hard to be positive.

“So are a lot of other books.”

“What did your aunt say on the phone?”

“They didn’t know I was gone, but now that
they do I think I’m in trouble.”

“I’m sure you are. Elliot, you can’t run off
like that. Promise you won’t do it again.”

“If you’ll you marry Bruiser.”

“That’s blackmail.”

Elliot nodded, a slight grin on his splotchy
face. “Will you?”

“I’ll think about it.” Mac sighed. “Come on,
let’s go.”

Elliot threw his arms around her and hugged
her. She hugged him back, as the clever little boy burrowed deeper
into her heart.

“I love you, Mac.” He grinned at her and
skipped ahead to the car, happier than she’d ever seen him, singing
a song that sounded suspiciously like “Love and Marriage.”

Elliot loved her, Bruiser wanted to marry
her, and she was currently unemployed. She needed to find a way to
dig herself out of this complicated hole. It
was
complicated. Wasn’t it?

* * * * *

Bruiser stared at the ceiling of the hotel
room. He couldn’t sleep. Normally he slept pretty well until a
nightmare woke him up. Tonight, he couldn’t even fall asleep.

“Hey, your thrashing around is fucking
keeping me awake.” Brett called from the next bed.

“Since when? You’d sleep through a nuclear
attack.”

“Yeah, well, not tonight.” Brett sounded as
cranky as Bruiser’s Great Aunt Alma without her morning shot of
bourbon. “Worried about the game?”

“I wish that’s all it was,” Bruiser
admitted.

“Then what is it? Mac?”

“How’d you know?”

“I’m psychic, what the hell do you think?
You dumbass, you’re in love with her.”

“What?” Bruiser shot up in bed and gave his
buddy his best eat-shit-and-die glower, only it was wasted due to
the darkness of the room. He slumped back against the
headboard.

“You heard me. You’ve been a jerk to deal
with lately. Since you’ve been hanging around the film room into
the evening, I can only guess you’re not spending nights in Mac’s
bed, and no one else’s, for that matter. Haven’t seen you in one
gossip magazine in a few months.”

Bruiser laced his fingers together behind
his head and stared at the ceiling. “I’m trying to be good to get
custody of Elliot.”

“Hmm. Is that all?”

“Of course that’s all.” Bruiser got up and
paced the room in his boxers. “Isn’t that enough to stress a guy
out?”

Brett sat back against the pillows, rubbed
his eyes, and yawned. “You’re pretty damn transparent.”

“Since when?”

“Since I’ve gotten to know you so well. You
have feelings for Mac, and she does for you. Hell, I’d be thrilled
if that was happening to me.”

“I wish it
was
happening to you. I’m
all wrong for her.”

“She doesn’t think so. If she did, she’d
kick you to the curb for good.”

“She did.” Bruiser stopped and stared out
the window at the Boston skyline.

“Bullshit. Nah, it’s just one of those
female things where they play hard to get and want you to prove
your devotion. That sort of crap.”

“You think?” Bruiser turned to eye the lump
on the bed.

“Hell, I’m not the expert you are but, yeah,
I think so.”

“I’m far from an expert on relationships.
Sex is a different story.”

“Yeah, I get that, but the team has had a
lot of guys getting hitched in the past couple years, and they seem
disgustingly happy.”

“Except Harris.”

“Harris is a law unto himself. He might not
be wearing a wedding ring, but he’s sure as hell wearing a ball and
chain.”

“Pussy-whipped.”

“You’ll never see that with me.”

“Me neither.”

Brett laughed. “Buddy, you’re already on
your way. The second you give power to a woman to set your moods,
the moment your happiness depends on her happiness, then, you, my
man, are screwed.”

“Fuck you.”

Brett laughed.

“Hey, your time will come.”

“Never. I’m not the marrying type. Too much
baggage for any decent woman.”

Bruiser wondered what kind of baggage Brett
might be referring to, but he never asked and Brett never
volunteered. That was the way their friendship went.

Besides, Bruiser had his own baggage to
worry about, baggage that needed to be stowed somewhere so he could
get on with his life.

Chapter 22

Returning home from dropping off Elliot, Mac
caught movement in her backyard. Gripping a baseball bat, she
slipped out her side door and stayed in the shadows of her house,
heart pounding so loudly she couldn’t believe the intruder didn’t
hear her.

Just as she stalked to within a few feet of
the skulking figure, whose shape looked remarkably like her
father’s, the man climbed on top of a stool and lowered himself
over the fence into the neighbors’ backyard. Mac stood on tiptoes
and looked over the fence.

“Dad, what are you doing?” she hissed.

Craig held his hand up to his mouth.
“Shh.”

“Get out of their yard.”

“I saw them leave.”

“They could be back any minute. Where’d you
park your car?”

“Down the street. Shh. We don’t need to
announce our intentions to the rest of the neighborhood, especially
nosy old Mrs. Rockhurst.”

“Mrs. Rockhurst has been invaluable in
keeping us apprised of what’s happening over here. She’s as nosy as
you are.”

“Not that invaluable, or they’d be
arrested.”

“Get out of their yard,
now
, or I’ll
call the police on you myself.”

Her father shook his head. Mac leaned the
bat against the fence. With a sigh, she climbed the fence to
retrieve the stubborn man, even though she didn’t know what good it
would do other than get them both arrested for trespassing.

In one hand her dad held a shovel, in the
other a flashlight.

“What are you planning on doing? You have a
restraining order. You can’t be here.”

“That bitch killed my son. I have a right to
know. If the law won’t handle it, I will.”

“Dad, they could have dumped Will’s body in
the woods or the sound. Somewhere we’ll never find it.”

Craig turned to her. “We will find it or die
trying.”

Mac frowned. She didn’t want to do this the
rest of her life, she really didn’t. She wanted more. She
wanted—

Bruiser. And Elliot. A family.

If only they could make it work, but the
odds were not good as long as her father obsessed over his missing
son.

“Get out of their yard.” She grabbed his arm
and pulled. “Come back to the house with me.”

They both froze as a car came down the
street and turned into Mac’s driveway. She looked through a crack
in the fence. Thank God it was Bruiser, though she had no idea what
he was doing here this late at night. The team plane must have just
gotten back after a heart-wrenching 14-10 loss to New England.

While Mac’s heart did a little waltz right
up to Bruiser, she almost forgot her body was standing in her
former sister-in-law-turned-murder-suspect’s backyard.

She ran back to the fence and called to
him.

Bruiser peered over the top board. “What are
you two doing?”

“I’m trying to get Dad out of their yard
before the police show up and arrest him.”

Bruiser vaulted over the five-foot fence
like it was nothing, the epitome of athleticism and grace. “Come
on, Craig, we need to get you out of here.”

“They’re gone and won’t be back for a long
time.”

“What if they have motion cameras?” Bruiser
suggested.

Both Mac and her father turned as one to
stare at the back of the house. Sure enough, there was a camera
mounted above the back door and another over the patio area.

“Crap,” Mac spoke under her breath. “Let’s
get out of here and hope we’re out of camera range.”

“Not until I’ve had a chance to do some
digging.”

Bruiser grabbed Craig’s arm. “Not tonight,
old man.” He pulled Craig along, not taking no for an answer.

Mac grabbed his other arm, and they
literally dragged him to the gate, only to find it padlocked.
“Double crap,” Mac cursed.

“I’ll get us out of here. Let me get a
ladder.” Back over the fence Bruiser went. A few minutes later they
stood on the lawn in Mac’s side yard, breathing heavily, just as a
police cruiser, lights flashing, pulled into the neighbors’
driveway followed by Sonja’s car.

“Busted.” Mac groaned. She turned to
Bruiser. “Wait in the house. They can’t see you out here. It’ll be
all over the papers. This is our problem, not yours.”

Bruiser hesitated.

“Don’t be a hero, Bruiser. Go inside,” Craig
insisted, looking more than a little sheepish.

Bruiser glanced again at the patrol car now
sitting in the driveway. The officer was talking to Sonja and her
husband; then he turned to Mac’s house.