Down by Contact - A Seattle Lumberjacks Romance (3 page)

Zach stepped forward, a knight not exactly
comfortable in his dinner-jacket armor. “Apologize to the lady. It
was an accident, and your behavior is abusive.”

The chef gritted his teeth and spoke loud
enough for only Zach to hear. “Who the hell are you? Some dumb
jock? You probably beat up your girlfriend on a regular basis. And
you accuse me of abuse?”

Zach exploded and charged. Just before he
made contact, two defensive linemen, big suckers, yanked him
backward and pinned his arms behind his back. Zach lunged at the
fat chef again, dragging the linemen with him. More teammates
jumped into the fray and held him back. Several others restrained
the chef, who hurled accusations at Zach and Kelsie.

“Stop it, you dumb shit.” Harris smacked
Zach on the arm none too gently. Zach grunted and squinted into the
harsh light glaring in his eyes. Someone had a camera trained on
him.

Harris stepped in front of Zach, blocked the
cameraman, and faced the furious cook. “Let’s calm down and be
civilized. It was an accident.” He spoke in an aside to his
teammates. “Let them go.” The men did as Harris ordered. The cook
made a move toward Zach but Harris countered it, placing his body
between the two dueling men. He put his hand on Zach’s chest and
pushed. Zach staggered back a step, reining in his temper.

He’d done it again. Screwed up in a social
situation and dragged the whole team down with him. His new team.
The ones who were counting on him to be a leader on and off the
field. He’d led them, all right, almost into a brawl.

Zach released his breath in a whoosh,
deflating not just his lungs but his ego. He’d made an ass of
himself, embarrassed the team, and even worse, exposed a weakness
to Tyler Harris in the name of one
high-school-crush-on-the-mean-girl Kelsie Carrington.

Zach glanced off to the side where Kelsie
stood. She’d shoved her knuckles in her mouth again, a sure sign of
her discomfort he remembered from their high school days—not that
he’d forgotten a thing about her from back them. Cheerleader.
Beauty queen. Rich and spoiled. The meanest of the mean girls. Tell
that to a teenage Zach. He’d dragged his sorry ass after her
without an ounce of pride, begging for any crumb she’d toss his
way. She tossed just enough to keep him on her trail.

Zach scrubbed his hands over his face.
Dropping his arms to his sides, he turned to Kelsie.

Her confidence of a few seconds ago
shattered like the goblets on the floor. She hunched over and
hugged herself in a gesture of self-protection and flicked a glance
in his direction. Their eyes met for a split second, just enough
time to send his stomach into vigorous calisthenics and reduce his
already damaged knees to mush.

Without another word, she fled the room, but
not before his foolish heart lunged for her and missed, once
again.

* * * * *

Blinded by tears, Kelsie dashed for the
ballroom doors. While making a run for it, she bumped into another
waiter, sentencing a tray of deserts to another appointment with
destiny. Banging into the doors, she pushed them open, and sprinted
down the hall for the elevator. She braked to a stop and wrenched
her ankle in the process. An ominous snap a split second later
confirmed the worst. Her last good pair of Manolo Blahniks
succumbed to the stress of her fifty-meter dash for freedom.
Lurching into the elevator, she stabbed at the lobby button with a
now broken fingernail.

The elevator doors slid shut and wrapped her
in a temporary cocoon of safety. She yanked off her heels and
clutched them tightly, realizing the broken heel lay somewhere
between the ballroom and the elevator.

Her day couldn’t get worse. Or her life.

Of all people to witness her humiliation,
fate chose Zach Murphy. And the Lumberjacks team owner. And his
daughter. And the governor. She’d hit rock bottom, and the one man
who hated her guts more than her ex-husband was probably drinking a
toast to her downfall.

She hadn’t seen him in person since high
school graduation. Zach the teenager had been intimidating. Zach
the man was formidable. He’d put on muscle on top of muscle, grown
a few inches, and definitely fine-tuned his intensity to a
laser-sharp edge. Shaggy black hair framed his tanned, rugged face.
His tight, full lips announced
don’t mess with me if living is
important to you
without him opening his mouth.

She’d been such a fool. A stupid fool.

Sure, she’d convinced herself the move to
Seattle had to do with finding Zach and atoning for the sins of her
past. But who was she kidding? It had nothing to do with Zach, and
everything to do with her. Even worse, Zach saw right through her
to the selfish, desperate woman underneath. Sweet, kind, bumbling
Zach, the only man who’d ever been there for her and never asked a
thing in return but friendship. The same man she’d ridiculed and
humiliated. And she’d expected a warm, even lukewarm,
reception?

One look at Zach’s face, and Kelsie knew
she’d made a grave error in judgment. Zach’s angry frown spoke
louder than red paint dripping down a white wall. He would not be
her rescuer. He’d resigned from that job years ago and rightfully
so. He’d been her last hope for a friendly face in a storm of angry
or indifferent ones, and even he didn’t want a thing to do with
her.

The elevator doors opened with a pleasant
ping
totally in contradiction with her evening. Squaring her
shoulders and straightening her spine, Kelsie strode out of the
elevator. Alcohol soaked her white shirt and black skirt. Her
stocking feet stuck to the cold tile floor of the lobby. She padded
out the door into a misty Seattle night and stood on the street,
chest heaving and heart racing. At least it was a balmy—for
Seattle—seventy degrees, pretty decent weather for early September,
so she understood.

She reached for her purse. Her heart dropped
to her bare toes. She’d left her purse and cell phone at the
banquet. Not that she had any money in it. She’d spent her last
forty dollars on the banquet server clothes. Her stomach rumbled
like the Sounder train, reminding her the day’s meal consisted of a
couple crackers. She’d hoped to eat at the banquet after the guests
were served.

No Zach.

No money.

No job.

No future.

And reduced to living in her car.

She’d sunk low in the past couple months,
lower than she’d ever imagined. Yet, staying in her former
situation hadn’t been an alternative. She’d rather sleep on a park
bench and dumpster dive for dinner.

Which was exactly what she would be
doing.

The hotel valet eyed her with suspicion. She
glanced at her reflection in the window. Her disheveled hair, bare
feet, and stained clothes didn’t exactly present a good
impression.

The man walked up to her. “Time to move
along. We don’t allow loitering.”

With a sniff and a toss of her head, Kelsie
sauntered off, refusing to let him see her lose it. She walked
around the corner to find a nice, quiet place to fall apart. She
slumped on a bus stop bench and buried her face in her hands.

“You left something behind.”

Wiping her face with her sleeve, Kelsie
glanced up to see her purse dangling from the large fingers of the
Jacks’ quarterback, Tyler Harris. Tyler was a sleek, graceful deer
buck compared to Zach’s more rangy elk. Her Coach purse swayed back
and forth in front of her eyes. She snatched it from his hand and
cradled it against her chest. This purse would bring her enough
from a pawnshop to keep her going for a little while. She’d fled to
Seattle to escape her ex’s influence and left everything behind,
hoping to find Zach. The only person in her life who’d ever truly
liked her for her. She’d found him, all right, and after one look
into those angry eyes, she knew she’d made a huge mistake. Zach was
not a much-needed ally, he was an enemy.

“Thank you.” She sniffed and hiccupped a
very loud, unladylike hiccup.

Tyler’s girlfriend, a redheaded pixie,
stepped forward, her eyes full of pity and kindness. “Do you need a
ride somewhere?”

Kelsie chewed on her lower lip. Her pride
screamed, “No.” Her practical side kicked pride out of the way and
took over. “My car is parked a ways from here.” She choked back
another sob. She’d stowed everything she owned in her out-of-gas
car parked several blocks away in a defunct business’s parking lot.
With her luck, it’d been towed by now.

“We’ll give you a ride.” Tyler didn’t wait
for an answer but started hauling her along with them, shoes and
purse clutched in her free hand. She resisted, irritated and
fearful at the same time. They were all alike, guys like him and
her ex-husband, thinking they could force their will upon her. She
hated it, hated the weakness, swore she’d never be under the
influence of a man like that again. She might be broke, hungry, and
homeless, but she was independent.

Kelsie folded her long limbs into the
miniscule backseat of Tyler’s expensive sports car. His girlfriend
turned in her seat. “I’m Lavender. You are?”

“I’m Kelsie. I’m new to town.”

Tyler glanced at her in the rearview mirror,
his expression calculating. “I get the impression you and Murphy
have a history.”

Kelsie proceeded with caution, unwilling to
divulge too much. “Yes, we knew each other in high school.”

“Small world, isn’t it?” Lavender spoke with
sympathy, as she shot her boyfriend a shut-your-mouth glare.

“Too small.” Kelsie pointed out her little
Chevy Equinox, the lone car in the lot.

Tyler pulled up beside it. She lunged for
the door, hoping he’d just drive off. He didn’t. He got out and
waited at the side of her car. He studied the inside, most likely
taking in the boxes and suitcases filling it to bulging and the
blanket and pillow, sure indications she slept in the car. Her
little dog, Scranton, bounced up and down on the seat and
yapped.

“I just moved here from Texas.” Kelsie
jumped to explain before he asked more questions.

“I see.” Tyler nodded slowly and stepped out
of her way. His expression indicated he really did see, which
wasn’t good at all.

“Where are you going now?” Lavender
asked.

Nowhere,
except to a pawnshop come
morning to get rid of the purse. She didn’t have more than a few
dollars in change to her name. “I was hoping to promote my business
tonight. Thought maybe Zach might have a few contacts for me.”
Squaring her shoulders, she pulled a soggy business card out of her
apron pocket and handed it to Tyler.

He took the sticky card with reluctance and
read it out loud, “
Finishing School for Real Men, Specializing
in Professional Athletes and CEOs, Kelsie Anne Richmond.
” Tyler
looked up, a slow smile crossing his face. “No kidding? You’re
Emily Post for Jocks?”

Knowing she may never get another chance
like this and eager to promote her fledgling business, Kelsie
launched into the spiel she’d practiced before serving at the
black-tie party. “Yes, I offer a charm school of sorts for
athletes, many of whom came from unfortunate backgrounds and never
had exposure to manners and proper social behavior.”

Lavender looked pointedly at Tyler. “Several
of your teammates who could use that.”

“No joke.” Tyler studied the card, as if
mulling something over in his mind.

“Ty, can’t you help her?” Lavender gave
Tyler one of those secret looks full of promises that women used on
men they loved, and it seemed to work on him.

Tyler scribbled on the back of the card and
handed it back to Kelsie. “Drop by headquarters and ask to speak to
this woman. She handles player personnel issues. They just made the
final cuts down to the regular roster so wait until later in the
week, Thursday or Friday. Tell her I recommended you. I’d bet my
last touchdown, she’ll set you up with a few clients.”

“Oh, thank you. Thank you very much.” She
might be begging, but tough times called for tough measures.

With a non-committal shrug, Tyler turned
back to his car.

“Bye, Kelsie, it was nice to meet you. I’ll
make sure Tyler paves the way with personnel first thing Monday
morning.” Lavender tucked something in her hand and hurried after
Tyler, who was impatiently tapping his foot as he held the
passenger door open. As soon as she got in, he slammed her door and
jumped in on his side. With a mighty roar of its engine, the car
fishtailed around a corner on squealing tires.

Kelsie opened and stared at the
hundred-dollar-bill crumpled on her palm, charity from a virtual
stranger. She’d never taken charity before, but survival beat out
pride. Visions of a warm meal and warmer bed filled her with
relief.

For the first time since Kelsie had fled
from her controlling ex-husband, a ray of hope warmed her, even
though it was tempered by a niggling of dread. She’d call on the
Lumberjacks and sell herself and her business. Her most obvious
client might be a certain linebacker with the finesse of a
stampeding elephant.

How would Zach feel about that?

CHAPTER 2

Pads smacked against pads, punctuated by
grunts and colorful swearing, all music to Zach’s ears. He breathed
in the unique smells of sweat, liniment, and fresh-cut grass. After
laying Harris out on the ground in the afternoon scrimmage, Zach
jogged to the sidelines for a breather and downed a couple glasses
of water. Resting his hands on his hips, his chest heaved, his
muscles burned, and sweat beaded on his brow. All good.

No pain, no gain, and all that crap.

Zach watched his guys take on the
first-string offense making Bruiser fight for every miserly inch he
got. Tyler Harris, the asshole, stood back in his protected little
pocket and watched the results of his handoff. Arrogant and
entitled, he represented everything Zach resented in quarterbacks.
Harris traveled in circles Zach avoided, blending easily into any
situation. Sure, Harris reveled in being an asshole, but he was an
asshole by choice. Zach sometimes got branded with that label not
by choice, but because he didn’t get how to react in social
situations.