Down by Contact - A Seattle Lumberjacks Romance

by Jami Davenport

  Self-loathing curled inside her, but she pushed it away. She was a survivor. Survivors did what they had to do to survive.

  “Zach will love you in this dress. You look like a princess.” Rachel walked around the dress, examining it at all angles. Kelsie had already figured out Derek’s wife was the queen of denial. She liked everything in her life neat and tidy, and all her friends to be happy and content.

  “Thank you.” Her gracious southern charm kicked in. She could do southern charm ad nauseam with the best of them.

  “Just treat him well. He’s a good guy.”

  “I know.” And how would that work? Zach had worshipped her for so long, how would he deal with the real Kelsie, warts and all. Kelsie would break the poor man’s heart once again, not by choice but because she wasn’t any good for anyone. Her talents consisted of setting a gorgeous table and smiling for the judges while walking her walk. Not much to set her future on. Not much to start a marriage on. But then this wasn’t a real marriage. Well, except for the sex part, and she couldn’t wait for the sex part.

  Lavender interrupted her thoughts. “So the Tuesday after the wedding the boys will be working together on this fundraiser.”

  Rachel nodded. “Derek wasn’t exactly happy that he’d been enlisted as referee.”

  “Tyler was beyond pissed, but he loves a good fight because he lives for the making up.”

  They both looked to Kelsie. She couldn’t quite say the same. In fact, she suspected Zach had briefly entertained booting her out on her ass and ending their entire farce of a marriage.

  But he didn’t. He needed her party planning expertise as much as she needed a place to live. And maybe just maybe, they actually needed each other.

  If only—

  CHAPTER 18

  Threading the Needle

  Zach stared at himself in the mirror hanging on the wall in one of the Ramseys’ spare bedrooms. He didn’t recognize the pussy-whipped guy who stared back at him. Was this what marriage did to a guy? Made him look like a sissy boy. Zach hated looking like a sissy boy. Hell, he hadn’t even put a ring on her finger yet. That came in less than an hour. Damn. He was nuts to be doing this if she’d changed him this much already.

  Other than their weekly Tuesday lesson, Zach barely saw Kelsie. She was busy running up his credit card balance with wedding preparations. He’d quit checking the account online after it hit five figures.

  Yet, he’d been the one who’d insisted on a real wedding for his fake marriage. He couldn’t see marrying Kelsie at the courthouse, despite the circumstances. He should’ve known she’d take the opportunity and run with it, including tuxes, bridesmaids, and the entire team as guests. Even Kelsie admitted she’d gotten caught up in the moment and gone a little overboard. Not that he’d deny her anything. His penis was making all the decisions right now.

  Zach ran his hand through his now short hair. It’d been cut and styled this morning and girlie smelling stuff had been massaged into it. He’d never live it down if his defensive line got a whiff of him. They’d brand him a wimp, and that’d be the end as he knew it. Oddly enough, he didn’t really give a shit as long as Kelsie liked it.

  “Don’t muss up your hair. It looks wonderful.” Horatio, the flamboyant little guy Kelsie hired to dress him and do last-minute preparations, assessed him, needle in hand. Zach considered him a man-sitter, an insurance policy that Zach would conform to her idea of how a groom should look.

  Zach rubbed his clean-shaven skin. He’d drawn the line at a manicure and pedicure. Next thing he knew Horatio would be trying to paint his nails or pierce parts of his anatomy. Good luck with that, buddy.

  Horatio flitted around him, pinning the suit in places, sewing up a storm, then standing back and saying “tut-tut” every few minutes. Finally the little pest stood back and grinned. “You look gorgeous.”

  Zach clenched his jaw. “Uh, thanks.”

  “You two make a handsome couple.” The guy tugged on Zach’s suit pants getting a little too close to Zach’s package for his comfort. He shot Horatio a warning glance threatening enough to send the man scurrying back.

  “That’ll do. You look fabulous. Your bride will be falling at your feet.” Zach groaned at the mental image conjured by that statement. By the look on Horatio’s face, Zach’s bride wasn’t the only one falling. Zach crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at the guy.

  Tyler sauntered in looking like Mr. Spit-and-Polish to Zach’s spit. It didn’t matter how much you dressed Zach up, he still felt like what he was, a poor boy from the wrong side of the tracks. He tugged on his bow tie and refused to acknowledge the quarterback.

  “Damn. Is that you, Murphy?” Harris walked a circle around him, chuckling the entire time.

  Zach grunted and swiped sweat off his forehead. You’d think this was a real marriage with love and all that crap, as nervous as he was. Even Harris wasn’t getting to him.

  “Wow. You clean up pretty good.” Tyler stopped in front of him and sniffed. “Whoa. You smell better than Lavender. Maybe you two can share perfume tips.”

  Zach said nothing, too nervous to give Harris’s needling much credence. “Hey, Horatio, help Mr. Harris out here. He’s a little disheveled.” Zach mentally slapped himself on the back for his use of a word like “disheveled” and for the horrified look on Harris’s face.

  “Oh. Oh. Oh.” Horatio gestured wildly with his manicured hands, just about peeing his pants as he feasted his eyes on the quarterback. The little guy rushed to Tyler’s side and fussed over him. To Harris’s credit, he didn’t preen like a peacock or kick the little guy to the curb. Instead, his eyes bugged out, and he backed up a step as the pesky Horatio straightened Harris’s tie.

  When Horatio raised his hands toward Harris’s face, Harris shook his head and fended the guy off. “Do. Not. Touch. My. Face. Or. My. Hair. Comprende?”

  Horatio’s shoulders slumped and he stepped back. Zach almost felt sorry for him. Harris didn’t. Zach frowned, feeling a little protective of good ol’ Horatio.

  Lavender poked her head in the door. “Zach. You look incredible.”

  Zach shuffled his feet and felt like saying “Ah, shucks,” as the heat rose to his face. Lavender crossed the room and kissed his cheek. She wore a sexy black dress showing a lot of skin in the back and cleavage in the front, yet still managed to look classy, not tacky. Harris swallowed and gripped the back of a chair as he stared at her. The man had it bad. Really bad.

  “Ty, we need you in the living room to help move some chairs around.” With a final wink at Zach, she left the room. Harris just about fell all over himself following her. Pathetic to see an alpha male reduced to a mega wuss.

  Zach couldn’t stop himself. “Harris.”

  Tyler turned, his hand on the doorknob, even as he cast a longing look in the direction Lavender went.

  “Man, she has you whipped. I’d never let a woman tell me what to do.”

  Harris chuckled. “Just wait asshole, I used to say that. You day is here, and I’ve got a front-row seat.”

  “Never happen.”

  “Yeah, right. Bullshit. That’s why you smell so good.” Harris shook his head. “All a guy needs is the right woman. The one that makes you see that there’s nothing else in your life that compares to her.”

  Zach frowned, not expecting the baldly honest answer from his arch enemy. “Is that how it is with you?”

  Harris nodded and bolted out the door. Zach shook his head. He’d never be that stupid over a woman. He’d done that more than once with Kelsie, and she’d been in total control and almost ruined him. Now he had the control, and he intended on keeping it.

  The little guy flitted around him like an annoying fly on a hot summer’s day. Zach waved him off. “Hey, I think Harris might need some more help.”

  Horatio didn’t even bother to ask if Zach needed anything else, he ran for the door and toward his latest man crush.

  Zach drew in deep, calming breaths. The same routine he went
through before a big game, attempting to calm his frayed nerves and squash the butterflies pounding against his stomach like a prize fighter about to win the bout.

  Stay calm. Stay focused. Stay relaxed. This is just a business arrangement. Mutual to both of us.

  Only he didn’t believe it, not totally. He’d been in love with Kelsie for years and part of him still was despite all the things she’d done to him and all the time that’d passed. Tonight they’d consummate this marriage. She’d open her creamy thighs, and take him inside her. He’d never be the same. Never. And he didn’t give a fuck what it cost him as long as he had her now. He adjusted his package, hoping for some relief but no such luck.

  Harris stuck his head back in the door, Horatio hot on his heels with a brush in hand. “Hey, we’re ready. Get your ass out here.”

  Zach shook off his nerves and strode out the door like he got married every day. He took his place at the makeshift altar in front of the large stone fireplace. The house was crammed to overflowing with his teammates and the team’s staff. Even his brother Wade had flown in for the ceremony and would rejoin his team tomorrow in Vancouver.

  Wade studied Zach as he took his place next to him. “Didn’t recognize you for a moment.”

  “Yeah, she cleaned me up.”

  Wade chuckled. “And here I’m supposed to be the pretty one.”

  Wade had always been the handsome, suave brother, figuring out early what Zach never quite grasped: You get a lot more girls with bullshit sweet talk than with blunt honesty.

  “You’re sweating like a pig about to be loaded up for market.”

  “I feel like one.”

  “You and Kelsie Carrington. Who’d have believed it?” Wade shook his head and grinned. “Beauty and the beast.”

  “Hey, now, Kelsie’s still a good-looking woman.” Zach attempted a joke to lighten the mood.

  His brother looked him up and down, from the tips of his shiny black dress shoes, his perfectly tailored tux, and his neatly styled hair. “You’re a pretty man yourself. If I weren’t your brother, I’d—”

  “Enough. You’ve been spending too much time with only a stick and puck for company.”

  The rowdy crowd hushed and called Zach’s attention to the back of the room. Rachel and Lavender stepped forward down the short aisle and stood in their places. Then Kelsie appeared, and Zach’s heart crashed head-on into his ribcage. The damn thing must have stopped beating because he couldn’t breathe anymore.

  Kelsie looked straight into his eyes with a sparkling smile aimed straight at him and his mortally wounded heart. Her smile buried itself deep inside his soul. At that moment, he knew he’d do all this wussy stuff again and more for this woman.

  He also knew he’d never fallen out of love with her.

  Nor did he give a shit that he’d forgotten all about a prenup.

  * * * * *

  Kelsie gripped the pink roses tighter until the stems dug into her palms. This was Zach? Zach, the guy with the shaggy hair, perpetual stubble, and clothes a homeless person wouldn’t wear. She couldn’t believe her eyes until he smiled a nervous smile that was all Zach.

  Her Zach was gorgeous, a man as handsome as any man she’d ever laid eyes on, a man who exuded pure maleness from his every pore, but he also was the epitome of kindness. The very kindness that shone in his soft brown eyes.

  She stepped forward on Tomcat’s arm, walking slow, taking her time. The big man at her side measured his steps with hers. She may never have another wedding again, so she’d savor every moment. Besides, she basked in the limelight. Her smile was genuine and for the first time in years, true happiness and contentment filled her, as if all was right with her world. Glancing left and right, she made eye contact with each and every guest. They smiled back, enjoying her happiness. Until one scowling woman sitting on the far side of the room caught her eye. Veronica. And she was not pleased. Not in the least. Kelsie turned away from her, not about to let the witch rain on her parade. Even if it was Seattle.

  Kelsie took her place at Zach’s side. He leaned toward her and mouthed the words You’re beautiful. She mouthed back, So are you. He blushed, actually blushed.

  Her heart full of joy, Kelsie stood beside Zach and listened to the preacher’s words and spoke her vows with sincerity, as if part of her believed them, even more than during her first marriage.

  Zach took her hand in his. His big hand completely engulfed her smaller one. His palms were sweaty. So were hers. The ring he placed on her finger was modest, so like Zach, nothing like the rock Mark had branded his possession with—the very rock that became a symbol of slavery not partnership.

  “You may kiss the bride.”

  A collective cheer rose from Zach’s rowdy teammates. He turned to her, almost apologetically. Screw the apologies and regrets. She wrapped her arms around his neck, stood on tiptoes, and planted a wet kiss on his lips. For a moment, he stood absolutely still as if in shock, his hands to his sides. A second later, he regained his wits and dipped her over his arm into a deep kiss worthy of a scene from a classic movie. Kelsie lost herself. All the other people in the room faded away. All she wanted to do was kiss her Prince Charming.

  Zach lifted her upright and pulled back first, obviously rattled by the crowd gathered around hooting like a bunch of drunken sailors. She clung to him, her hands gripping his biceps. Their eyes met and he grinned at her, dimples and all. She smiled right back.

  “Congratulations, Mrs. Murphy.” His grin stretched wider than a football field.

  “Thank you, Mr. Murphy.” Kelsie Murphy? She’d never considered a last name change, but she’d rather have Zach’s last name than Mark’s. On the other hand, why go to the bother of changing your last name when you’d just be changing it back in a few months?

  The next hour or two passed in a whirlwind of champagne, laughter, outrageous stories, and good-natured ribbing. As she gazed into Zach’s kind brown eyes, she said her own silent vows. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt this man.

  A realization slammed into her with the force of a Mercedes speeding on I-5. Zach, Mr. Tightwad himself, never asked her, the shopping queen, to sign a prenup.

  What did that mean? Could it be possible that Zach Murphy actually trusted her?

  She hoped so with all her heart because gaining his trust mattered to her. A lot.

  CHAPTER 19

  Running it Back for a Touchdown

  Fake marriages required fake honeymoons. Zach hadn’t planned on a honeymoon even though the bye week allowed a little latitude for time off. Instead, he figured he’d head home and get up at five a.m. to start his workout and game study. Same as usual. Just because he’d signed a piece of paper didn’t mean his routine had to change.

  Yet Tyler Harris, in a rare moment of generosity, whisked them into a limo, which took them to a floatplane on Lake Union and flew them to Washington’s San Juan Islands. A few hours later, around midnight, Zach and Kelsie stood in the grand entry of the Harris family’s century-old mansion, Twin Cedars, near Friday Harbor.

  “Wow, this is incredible.” Kelsie stared around the two-story room with a look of utter amazement. Zach had visited the run-down mansion in the spring with his new teammates as an uninvited guest. Grudgingly, he gave Harris credit for diving into the restorations on his ancestors’ home. Zach had figured the guy would sell the priceless waterfront estate the first chance he got. Only he didn’t. Instead, he’d poured tens of thousands of dollars into restoration, going against everything Zach thought he knew and believed about the guy.

  Zach hated it when people didn’t fit in the boxes he crafted for them.

  Kinda like Kelsie. That beautiful, untouchable mean girl from his high school days refused to stay in her box, which left Zach off balance and uncomfortable. He liked people to meet the expectations he’d formed for them, not blow them all to hell. Not that either Harris or Kelsie were in danger of that, but Kelsie had punched a few holes in her box.

  Homer, the old man who�
�d opened the door for them, tottered toward the grand staircase. “This way.” He crooked a bony finger in their direction. Zach grabbed both their bags and started to follow the senior citizen up the stairs. At the last minute, he remembered his manners and stood back to allow his new bride to walk up the stairs ahead of him.

  His new bride.

  Homer swept open the door of a large master suite, which had been recently remodeled and reminded Zach of some English king’s room—leave it to Harris. The large canopy bed dominated one corner of the room, complete with this drapery-like material allowing the large four-poster bed to be shut off from the world. The soft, rich carpet sank under his shoes. The traditional paintings on the walls encouraged romantic thoughts. Who’d have figured Harris to be a romantic?

  “Here you go. There’s a bathroom in there. The house is empty. The workers won’t be in tomorrow so enjoy yourselves. I’ll let myself out.” The man winked at Zach and tottered out of the room. Kelsie stood in the doorway, looking around the room.

  Zach stared at her like the lovesick fool he was. He couldn’t believe she was here, and she was his wife.

  His wife.

  She turned to him, and his knees almost gave way. He grabbed the door jamb just to hold himself upright. She smiled at him, a tentative smile that touched his heart. Swallowing back the raw emotion clogging his throat, he entered the room, battling anxiety and nerves. This night had to be perfect.

  She stood in the doorway as if waiting for something.

  “Oh, crap. I forgot.” Zach hoisted Kelsie into his arms and carried her across the threshold. She laughed, as he swung her to her feet, and the soft, happy sound nestled in his heart and burned in his memory.

  Kelsie wandered around the huge room with the large bay window and French doors opening onto a balcony. Zach tagged along after her, feeling like a stray mutt panting after a purebred poodle. In the bathroom, a large jetted tub sat in an alcove with a bank of windows giving a spectacular view of the waterways and the islands. His deprived libido flashed images of Kelsie in another tub, naked, soapy, and pleasuring herself. Damn, but he wanted that job, wanted to replace her fingers with his fingers, or even better, his cock.