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
False Start
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.
Fuck, but Zach hated the quarterback like he’d never hated anyone in his life. Harris had disrespected the game last year by resting on his laurels and not giving one-hundred-percent. His teammates picked up the slack and won another championship, no thanks to him.
Sure, they’d won the season opener this year, and Harris looked decent, but Zach needed hell of a lot more proof than one lousy game. As defensive team captain, he spent every waking hour living and breathing football. He expected the same dedication from the team’s offensive leader. So far, they left the training facility about the same time every night and were the first to arrive in the morning, but it’d take more than working overtime for Zach to believe in Harris’s renewed commitment. Not that the QB gave a shit what Zach believed.
Only on the football field did Zach belong, doing the thing he’d been born to do with guys who thought like he did. Everywhere else he felt out of place and awkward. His thoughts took a side street down memory lane to one such moment. Zach grimaced and stared at the grass. Odd, the most painful memory of his life was a high school dinner date rather than losing a big game or missing a crucial tackle. He still recalled the flash of pity on Kelsie’s face as her attorney father raked him over the coals and her snooty mother puckered her lips in disgust at his table manners. He’d been an idiot to think he could fit in with the country club set. His first date with Kelsie quickly became his last. She’d invited him to the country club ball, not because she liked him, but to make her boyfriend jealous and so the rich kids could make fun of him and his backward ways and shabby clothes. She’d betrayed him and thrown him to the wolves—her friends and family. Then she sat back and watched them degrade him, never once coming to his defense, even when the cops cuffed him and hauled him off to jail.
Zach crushed the paper cup into a wad and slammed it into the garbage can.
What was she doing in Seattle of all places? The last he’d heard, she’d married Mark Richmond. Her high school sweetheart and a former high school quarterback who was now a Houston attorney with political aspirations. Kelsie should be living a life of luxury in some glitzy suburb, not serving dinner at a Seattle banquet.
“Daydreaming?” Tyler Harris strutted by and snapped his fingers in Zach’s face.
“Fuck you.” Zach gave Harris the middle finger.
The jerk laughed. “Hit a sore spot, huh? What woman has you all tied up in knots? And here I thought your brain circuits linked only to pigskin. Maybe it’s the gorgeous waitress from the other night?”
“You’re full of shit.”
“Yeah, really? Looked to me like you had the hots for her. Never seen you drool over a woman like you did over her. Well, guess what, buddy? You owe me one.”
“I don’t owe you a damn thing. Stay out of my business.”
Tyler laughed, the kind of menacing laugh designed to put Zach on high alert. The jerk thought he had one up on Zach and damned if Zach knew what it might be.
“Lazy asses! Quit trading recipes and get your sorry butts out on the field.” HughJack glared at them with his trademark take-no-prisoners glare and slammed his clipboard to the ground. Standing not far from HughJack, Veronica shook her head, disapproval etched a deep frown on her beautiful face. Not good.
Zach strapped on his helmet, and sprinted onto the field. One play later, he knocked Harris on his ass.
* * * * *
With a heavy sigh, Kelsie stood on the sidewalk in the September sun and watched the cars drive by on the busy Seattle street. She’d been rejected again, one more rejection out of a thousand job rejections.
She’d hoarded what cash she had left, using it sparingly by sleeping in her car the past several nights, eating fast food, and taking showers at the Y. During the day, she hung out in the library and searched the Internet for any job for which she might be qualified—which wasn’t much given her lack of experience.
All the while, she watched her back, never knowing if and when her ex-husband might appear. As if he cared enough to track her to the Pacific coast. After all, she was nobody to him. He’d harassed her while she lived in Houston, but once she’d left, surely he’d forgotten all about her. Except Mark Richmond never forgot, especially considering his political ambitions. He kept his enemies for a lifetime and obsessed over them like a bad drug. She feared she hadn’t heard the last of him.
He couldn’t believe she’d dared to divorce him, but she’d done just that, selling her Mercedes to pay for the best attorney possible. He fought her every step of the way. Not that he wanted her, but he saw divorce as a failure. He didn’t do well with failure. So he cut off her credit cards, spread false stories to families and friends, and ruined her reputation. The court had decreed a small divorce settlement, but it’d come in the form of monthly payments, which meant he’d need her address or bank account information. She’d walked away knowing she’d never see the money, a small price to pay for freedom and peace of mind.
Not that she had peace of mind, even out from under Mark’s tyranny. Men watched her hungrily as she stood in line at the soup kitchen, and a small gang of teenage boys taunted her whenever she walked by. Last night they’d followed her, and she’d run to the safety of her car and sped away. She’d spent a restless night in her car clutching her little poodle, Scranton, and praying they didn’t find her. This morning she’d been ten minutes late for her interview.
With a tired sigh, Kelsie ducked into a small coffee shop and ordered a small cup of drip coffee, even as her taste buds craved a double mocha with whip. She counted out her change. Unable to afford a tip, she smiled apologetically at the barista. Setting up her computer, she connected to the wireless. Dozens of emails from Mark filled up the screen, each one angrier than the previous one. Mixed in were messages from her mother, father, and brother, all chastising her for leaving Mark for another man and breaking his heart.
If they only knew. She didn’t have another man. The last thing she wanted was another man in her life, attempting to control her every move and emotionally breaking her down until she became a shell of her former confident self. Mark had almost destroyed her, turned her into a walking/talking Barbie doll with no mind of her own. In some ways she figured it was her penance for being such a selfish bitch in her teenage years.
She stared out the window as the never-ending rain pelted the glass. Across the street, a tall man huddled under an awning. He wore a dark tr
ench coat and a fedora. The sunglasses on his face drew her attention. No one wore sunglasses on a gloomy day like today. She squinted and pressed her face closer to the window. The man removed the glasses and locked gazes with her. Her heart rate sped up, and the hairs rose on the back of her neck. A smug smile crossing his nondescript face sent her reeling away from the window.
She’d seen the man before.
This morning when she left the Y, he’d been there.
And last night, he’d sat at a table near her in Burger King as she ate dinner.
And now here he was across the street.
Kelsie swiped a hand across her forehead. She hugged herself, suddenly cold even though she was sweating like a jumper on the Brooklyn Bridge.
Had Mark tracked her down, found her haven? But how? She’d run halfway across the country, avoided using anything that would have her name attached to it, gotten a different car, and been virtually homeless.
Unless—
Zach.
It had to be Zach. He’d called someone back home and told them, and the news got back to Mark.
She’d have a word with the Neanderthal. No more cowering and hiding. She’d confront him for what he’d done.
She didn’t want to run anymore.
* * * * *
Weary and nursing the mother of all headaches, Zach trudged out of the training facility. Sometimes, well, most times, he didn’t think the facility was large enough for both him and Harris. Especially tonight when Harris stayed to watch game film and hogged the remote, refusing to replay or slow-mo when Zach asked. Damn, when the season ended, he’d beat the living crap out of the asshole, teammate or not.
Zach stopped dead in his tracks when someone stepped out of the shadows and blocked his path. As soon as the dark figure moved into the dim light of the street lamp, he recognized the tall, slender body. “Kelsie?” He glanced around, wondering if she waited for someone other than him.
She stalked up to him, fists shoved against her thighs. Her entire body radiated anger. “Did you tell him?”
He blinked several times and tried to make sense of her words. “Tell who?”
“You did, didn’t you?”
“Who’s him? Tell them what?”
“That you saw me.”
“I never told anyone anything.”
“You did. You called someone back home and told them.”
“I don’t have contact with anyone in Texas. Haven’t for years.” He tiptoed lightly around this female landmine. If the explosion didn’t kill him, the shrapnel from her anger sure as hell would.
“Are you sure?” She deflated a little. Her shoulders slumped, and her chin lowered. Her eyes dimmed a little.
“Positive. I might be a lot of things, but I’m not a liar. You should know that.”
The remainder of her anger fizzled like the remnants of a sparkler. “But if you didn’t tell him then who’s following me?”
“Someone’s following you?” Despite his vow to remain distant, his stomach knotted at the thought she might possibly be in danger.
Kelsie swallowed and wrung her hands, looking everywhere but at his face. She stared at his midsection so long he clasped his hands to his thighs to stop from fidgeting.
“Kel, is something wrong?”
She raised her head. “Don’t they pay you enough money to buy decent clothes?”
He bristled and looked down at his wrinkled pair of sweats and worn cross-trainers. “They’re comfortable.”
“You’re a professional athlete. Get it. Professional. You should dress like one, not like a homeless person who’s been sleeping under a bridge.”
“How I dress is none of your damn business.” How the hell did this become about him?
“Thank God for huge favors. I could use a few right now.”
“Well, then, I’ll do you another favor. I’m outta here.”
She grabbed his arm and hung on. “Zach.” She searched his eyes. “Did you call someone back home and tell them you saw me? Like my ex-husband?” For a moment, panic crossed her face, and the sheer terror in her eyes stopped him in his tracks.
“That prick? Are you kidding? I didn’t tell anyone from home anything about you. I try my best to forget about that place.” He’d done enough in his life to apologize for without being bitched at for something he didn’t do. Then it hit him. “Your ex-husband?”
“Yes. My ex-husband.” She lifted her chin, her eyes bright with defiance and stood straight and tall, like the Kelsie he remembered.
“I can’t blame the guy. You had to be a bitch to live with.”
“Whatever.” She blasted him with her I’m-better-than-you-and-you-know-it glower. She hadn’t changed a bit. Then her lower lip trembled, like a woman about to—
Cry? Oh, crap, not again. He’d fall right into whatever current web her black-widow heart weaved, trapping him like a wayward fly. “You’re mistaken about me.”
“Am I?” Despite her brave words, her voice quivered slightly.
“Hell, yes. You’re mistaken to think you mean enough to me that I even gave you a second thought after a few nights ago.”
“Oh.” She deflated like a tire with a nail in it.
That pissed him off because he felt guilty for hurting her, like he should give a dang. “I didn’t tell a fucking soul.”
“You didn’t?” Her face paled, visible even in the dim light.
“No, I didn’t.” He lowered his voice and ran his fingers through his unruly hair, pushing it out of his eyes. “I’d tell you if I did.”
“I assumed—”
“You assumed too much. You’re still impressed with your own importance, aren’t you? Why don’t you quit playing your games and go back to your sheltered life?”
Much to his shock, strong-willed Kelsie’s face crumpled. Tears flowed down her cheeks like beer from a freshly tapped keg. She pressed her hands against her eyes and sobbed. Her shoulders shook. She hiccupped several times, gulping in huge gasps of air as she sobbed like a toddler who’d just taken a header off her high chair.
Zach’s feet took root in the pavement and refused to move. His tongue back-flipped to the roof of his mouth and stuck there, rendering him incapable of speech. His heart reached out to her, even as he fought to shove it back into place. Damn it almighty, he felt sorry for her. She’d manipulated him again, despite all the cruel things she’d done to him over the years. One word from her, and he’d lay his emotions down in front of her and gladly offer himself as her personal doormat.
Only she didn’t say the words. She grabbed her car keys and sprinted to her compact car as if the very devil dogged her heels, a compact car that appeared to be piled high with boxes.
Shell-shocked and speechless, Zach stood in the middle of the parking lot and watched her back out of her parking spot. Kelsie, the consummate mean girl in high school, never cried. This vulnerable version of Kelsie threw him off balance, despite her bluster and anger, he sensed a current of fear ran deep in her. Sucker that he was, he felt sorry for her. And something else. Something dormant but never dead. The poor boy still wanted the beautiful, unattainable girl, his private fantasy and his public hell.
Movement in the nearby trees caught his attention. A man in a trench coat pushed branches aside and emerged from his hiding spot. He hurried across the street toward a nondescript sedan.
Oh, crap, Zach did so not want to get involved in whatever the hell was going on, but he didn’t have a good feeling about it. Not one bit. Most likely she’d run off from her husband in some kind of snit and the poor guy was looking for her. Regardless, his crappy compulsion to protect her wouldn’t let him dismiss she might be in trouble. Even though he hated her guts.
Zach sprinted after the guy and tackled the stranger just as he reached for the car door. All two-hundred-fifty-plus pounds of Zach landed on the stranger’s back and shoved the air out of the asshole’s lungs. The guy gasped for breath, but Zach didn’t wait for him to recover. Holding the man’s ha
nds behind his back, he hauled the dickwad to his feet and shoved him against the front of his car. With one hand anchored on the man’s neck, he pushed his face into the cold metal of the car’s hood.
“What the fuck were you doing?”
The guy gasped, taking in big gulps of oxygen. “Nothing. Just trying to get an interview with a player or two.”
For a minute, Zach’s heart dropped to his knees. He hadn’t been stupid enough to tackle a member of the press, had he? But common sense caught up reminding him of what he’d seen. “You weren’t waiting for a player. You were following that woman. Why?”
“Look, just let me go. I can explain.”
“Don’t try leaving until I hear your explanation, and it better be a good one.” Reluctantly, Zach released the guy, who skittered away from him. “Why were you following her?”
“I thought she was your girlfriend. I’m doing a piece on NFL girlfriends for a major women’s magazine. You keep your love life secret. I saw an opportunity.” The guy wrung his hands and stared longingly at the driver side door blocked by Zach’s body.
Zach relaxed slightly. What the guy said made sense, even though something still seemed off. “She’s not my girlfriend.”
“Oh, my mistake. It looked like the two of you were familiar, looked like you were having an argument. The best time to get the dirt on a player is from a pissed-off girlfriend.”
Zach couldn’t argue that logic. “If I see you around here again, you’ll be eating your balls for dinner. Understand?”
The guy nodded and slipped into his car. Zach waited until he drove off, relieved to see he turned in the opposite direction that Kelsie had turned. Rubbing his hand across his face, he got into his own car and slumped in the front seat. Adrenaline spent, he stared straight ahead, not seeing a thing.
Down by Contact - A Seattle Lumberjacks Romance Page 3