Backfield in Motion (8 page)

He glanced at her, catching her ogling him.
“Amazed by my raw sexuality?”

Mac bit back an unladylike response and
distracted him with the first thing that came to mind. “Your family
isn’t quite what I expected.”

By the way Bruiser’s face hardened, she’d
picked the wrong subject and stepped into a big pile of shit and,
so typical of her, she trudged right on through it.
Yeah, don’t
heed the warning signs, just dig yourself a grave-sized hole
.
“I mean, they’re nice enough.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself.
Everyone says that.” Bruiser’s smile idled on his face, motor
running but no power behind it. His eyes had turned a cold stone
gray.

“How come this is the first time I’ve met
them? In fact, I thought your parents didn’t live anywhere around
here.”

“My father doesn’t. He’s in LA.” Bruiser’s
jaw tightened, and he stared straight ahead.

“They’re divorced?” She just didn’t know
when to shut up. Never been one of her special skills.

“Like a dozen times between the two of
them.”

“Oh, wow.” Mac shook her head in
surprise.

“Yeah, wow. You can see why I have no
respect for marriage. It’s a crock.”

“I understand why you’d see it that way. Do
you only have a sister?”

“I had a brother, too,” he said in an
emotionless voice, his closed expression not inviting further
questions. A muscle jerked in his strong jaw. She’d inadvertently
hit another sore subject, actually beyond sore—an open, gaping
wound.

A brother? She’d never heard that before.
Yet he’d said
had
, as if his brother no longer existed.
Maybe they were estranged. Or something happened to him. Something
Bruiser very obviously didn’t want to discuss. Tons of questions
raced through her mind, but for once she curbed her nosiness.
Everyone had private pain. She should know that better than
anyone.

Mac cranked up the Mariners game, but she
couldn’t have stated the score if her life depended on it. Bruiser
didn’t speak again, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts, and
thanks to her big mouth, they didn’t appear to be pleasant
ones.

Time ground to a turtle’s pace as they made
the short trip to the Simms family’s Lake Washington home. Bruiser
maneuvered his ’Vette around dozens of parked cars along the long
driveway and pulled up to the grand front entry, tossed his keys to
a valet, and strode around the car to the passenger door. Mac
waited patiently while he swept the door open, not because she was
trying to be a lady but because she didn’t dare walk without
clinging to his arm. He held out his hand, and she took it. The
heat from his large, warm palm rocketed through her body like a
missile finding its mark and detonating, engulfing everything in
its path, including her heart and her common sense as she shuddered
in reaction.

“Cold?” He angled his head at her, looking
damned irresistible from the cleft in his chin to the way a lock of
golden hair fell across his forehead. His expression softened and
his mouth tipped up at the corners in one of his signature
smiles.

“Just caught a cool breeze for a second,”
she lied.

He looked skeptical but said nothing. After
all, it was at least eighty degrees. Instead, he tucked her hand in
his forearm and led her to the huge front porch, which looked like
it should be the entrance to a five-star hotel, not a single-family
dwelling. Mac took a moment to appreciate the landscaping and rare
plants flanking the entry. The place was a regular arboretum. The
Simms had to employ a full-time gardener.

Mac glanced up at Bruiser and put on a brave
face. He grinned and winked at her, the familiar, charming Bruiser
taking over. “You’re gonna knock ‘em dead, Mac. Just smile and let
me do the talking. Veronica will know exactly who you are by the
night’s end.”

“I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Of course, it is. Trust me.”

She wanted to trust him, wanted to believe
he could wave his magic wand and transform her into Veronica’s idea
of a scholarship-worthy employee, but she wasn’t convinced even
Bruiser was that good.

Mac clung to him as they entered the house,
taking in the sights and smells of the party. They paused in the
doorway, and she closed her eyes for a moment, willing herself to
play the part she looked, a part she oddly somewhat liked—except
for the heels. A stranger had invaded her body, a stranger who
liked pink, ordered a double-macchiato with caramel, and haunted
downtown Seattle in search of her next pair of Jimmy Choos. Not
that any of those things were true about her, but hey, she almost
felt as if they could be. In some really weird way, she wanted to
be that girl once in a while and do girly things. Was that too much
to ask?

Mac placed one foot in front of the other
with careful precision, attempting to walk like a girl and not a
gorilla, but it wasn’t easy. Drill Sergeant Kelsie’s words played
through her brain:
Stand up straight, shoulders back, head up,
and smile, smile, smile like you’re on the red carpet at a world
premiere.

A servant in a black suit with an English
accent ushered them to the back of the house, where a tiered deck
ran the entire length of the mansion. An emerald green lawn sloped
down to a pebbly, low-bank beach where the lazy waters of Lake
Washington lapped at the shore. The late afternoon sun warmed the
breeze coming in from the water. A yacht large enough to house its
own football stadium was tied at the end of a long dock. Over to
one side a slate path led through a garden awash with flowers and
shrubs, complete with a bubbling waterfall. And roses, lots of
roses in a rainbow of colors lined the meandering path.

Bruiser nudged her. “Hey, what’s going on in
that head of yours?”

“I’ve never seen such gorgeous gardens.”

“Well, Simms is worth billions. He can
afford it. They probably have an entire crew of gardeners.”

“Yeah, I’m sure they do.”

Mac glanced over at the She-Wolves, who
stood sharpening their claws and sipping wine with their men, the
poor bastards. They gave her the thumbs-up, causing Derek, Tyler,
and Zach to turn and look. Zach saluted her and Tyler shot her a
cocky grin, while Derek gave her an approving smile. Mac relaxed a
little. Obviously she’d passed muster.

Veronica glided up to them as smoothly as a
figure skater and hugged Bruiser with more warmth than Mac ever
thought she could possess. Then she turned to Mac. Her brow
furrowed, her frown deepened, bringing out wrinkles around the
corners of her perfect lips. “I think we’ve met before, but I can’t
place you.” She looked Mac up and down, as if she were looking over
a piece of horseflesh at an auction.

“I’m Mackenzie Hernandez.” Mac held out her
hand hoping a handshake would be appropriate.

Veronica shook her hand and continued to
study her. “Mackenzie Hernandez?”

“I’m a groundskeeper at Jacks’
headquarters.”

“Oh, that’s where I’ve seen you. You didn’t
look quite the same.” She peered at Mac again, then dismissed her
and turned her attention on Bruiser. He tried to steer the
conversation back to Mac several times, but Veronica wasn’t having
any of it. She had great plans for a promo spot with Bruiser, and
Mac was just an inconvenience she chose to ignore. The more
Veronica drank, the more she hung on Bruiser’s arm.

“Veronica, Mackenzie was admiring your
landscaping.” Bruiser subtly extracted himself from the woman’s
grip and tucked Mac’s hand in his. His big hand felt warm and
comforting surrounding her smaller hand and gave her
confidence.

Mac jumped at the lead-in Bruiser gave her.
“I love your wisteria arbor. That color isn’t one I’ve seen
before.”

Veronica looked at her as if she were a
moron. “We have people who handle those things. I don’t concern
myself with them.”

Mac didn’t quite know how to respond to
that, but Bruiser came to the rescue. “Of course, you do, and it’s
up to you to hire just the right people.”

“That’s my mother’s job. She’s in charge of
the gardens. I have no interest in them.”

Strike two.

Bruiser gave Mac one of those looks that she
interpreted as
This woman is a bitch
. “Well, Mac has two
years toward her horticulture degree at the UW.”

For the first time Veronica perked up. “What
house were you in?”

“House?”

“Sorority.”

“Oh, I wasn’t in one.”
Strike three.
Mac didn’t even go down swinging.

“I see.” Veronica looked over her head and
waved at someone. “I must be off to my guests. Bruce, do think
about what we’ve discussed and get back to me within a few
days.”

“Yeah, sure.”

With that she flitted off.

“I tried.” He gave her a shrug. His
blue-gray eyes were apologetic.

“I know. Thanks for the effort.” She leaned
into him slightly as he stared down at her. Her heart pitter-patted
with gratitude. Bruiser Mackey wasn’t such a bad guy after all.

“She’s a self-centered bitch.” Bruiser
flicked his gaze to Veronica and back to Mac.

“Try entitled, self-centered bitch.”

He smiled. “That, too. We aren’t done with
her yet.” His crooked smile gave him a boyish look. The man was so
outrageously handsome. No guy should be that good-looking. She was
going to enjoy this night while it lasted. Cinderella at the ball
with Prince Charming and all that.

Only there was no glass slipper and her
Prince Charming wasn’t looking for a happily ever after. Or
anything beyond a one-night stand, and not with Mac. She’d fallen
for the most impossible guy in the world.

That’s what made him safe.

* * * * *

Tyler finished his joke with his usual
asshole panache, sending the crowd of people into raucous laughter.
Bruiser faked it, even though he had no flipping clue what the
punch line had been. The attention-whore quarterback had been
entertaining the troops for about a half hour, thoroughly enjoying
himself. Usually Bruiser vied for the center of attention along
with Harris, but not tonight. He had a—uh—distraction.

Mac stood with Kelsie, Rachel, and Lavender,
looking like a woman plotting her escape from tyrants. He would
know; he’d hardly taken his eyes off her the entire evening.
Something about this version of Mac did it for his dick. Or had he
been in denial for a while now? After all, he’d been having these
erotic daydreams about her for the past couple weeks way before
this makeover. He couldn’t quite put his finger on when he started
seeing her as a woman, not just a buddy. But he had and now he
couldn’t let the images go.

Shit.

He didn’t date women he worked with. The
added complication made the inevitable breakup way too messy.
Bruiser liked to keep his breakups quick, tidy, and amicable. Not
only did this weird attraction to Mac not work for him on so many
levels, it wouldn’t work for her. Brett was interested in her.
Brett, the only true friend he really had.

Dammit.

Even so…

What harm could one little dance do?

A band started playing as a deep red sun set
to the west. Colored lights lit up as darkness settled, the alcohol
flowed freely, and the party showed no signs of stopping.

Despite his best intentions, Bruiser found
himself drawn to Mac’s side. At five-foot-eleven Bruiser wasn’t
tall, but Mac was only five-three or -four. She made him feel like
a big guy. He liked that a lot more than all those models he dated.
A guy’s ego could take a hit when he had to look up at a woman.

Mac glanced up at him through lowered lashes
as he stepped up beside her, in an oddly feminine display of
shyness. The relief in her brown eyes sent satisfaction surging
through him. She’d missed him at her side, or those three friends
of hers were just that scary. Either way, he’d take it.

He smiled down at her, and she smiled back.
His stomach did a triple axel with a twist, leaving him fighting to
breathe. Women did not affect him this way unless it had to do with
sex. He couldn’t quantify his feelings for Mac; they were different
and not going in a direction he intended to travel. It would be
smart to fake some sudden illness and get the hell out of here, but
he wasn’t that smart.

Next thing he knew, his mouth took over for
his brain, while his heart and his dick applauded. “Excuse me
ladies, but I’d like to take a whirl on the dance floor with the
most beautiful woman in the room.” Before her friends reacted and
Mac could shoot him down, he grabbed her hand and pulled her onto
the dance floor.

“You do dance?” A little late now to be
asking that, but what the hell. She could step on his feet all
night, and he doubted he’d notice. Not with that nice little body
close to his, and those brown eyes holding him captive.

“Only a little, but I’m athletic and a quick
learner.” Her eyes twinkled brighter than stars in the night
sky.

“So let’s give it a try.”

“Can I take off my shoes?”

“Sure, other women have.”

It was a two-step to a country song, and Mac
had no problem keeping up with him. She twirled and wiggled that
cute little body all around him, anticipating his every move until
he was panting after her like horny old dog. Bruiser was having a
damn good time, which surprised him. In fact, it’d been a while
since he’d had this much fun off the field or out of the sack and
been this relaxed at a party. It’d been even longer since a woman
intrigued him. This insane attraction to Mac blindsided him and
pretty much knocked his denial on its butt, even though he
should’ve seen it coming given his recent obsession with her.

The fast dance ended and Mac raced for the
edge of dance floor, but Bruiser caught her hand and tugged her
back into his arms. Bad idea, but he’d been full of bad ideas all
evening. He couldn’t explain why, but he had to have that fit
little body pressed against his in a slow dance. Okay, hell, he
probably could explain why if he really thought about it.