by Cd Brennan
Cover Copy
Dependable and hard-working Dave Marsden is the loose-head prop for the Traverse City Blues. A big man with an even bigger heart, Dave doesn't let the other players’ ribbing bother him about owning the premier flower shop in town. In fact, little in life bothers him…that is until his world collides with Sierra Richards, a teammate’s sister.
Now Dave is questioning everything. Thanks to their fierce physical attraction, his world has gone askew. Could a sexy siren like Sierra really fall in love with a big oaf like him? Sierra challenges Dick's concept of normal with her slightly criminal attitude. With her computer hacking skills, she constantly pushes the boundaries of the law. And when Sierra’s hacking finally catches up to her, will Dave rescue her from her own misdeeds?
Because there is a right and there is a wrong, right?
http://www.cdbrennan.com
Books by Cd Brennan
Play On
In Touch (Book 1)
In Time (Book 2)
In Need (Book 3 coming 2018)
Play On novellas
Ruck Me
Maul Me
Make Me Scrum
(All shorts coming 2017)
Love Where You Roam
Watershed (Book 1)
A World Apart (Book 2)
Dusting of Light (Book 3 coming 2018)
Ruck Me
A Play On series short
Cd Brennan
www.cdbrennan.com
Copyright © 2017, Cd Brennan
First electronic publication: May 2017
www.cdbrennan.com
All Rights Are Reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. The unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. No part of this book may be scanned, uploaded or distributed via the Internet or any other means, electronic or print, without the author’s permission.
NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR:
This book is a work of fiction. The names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the writer’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locale or organizations is entirely coincidental. The author does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
Published in the United States of America
Dedication
To my readers.
And, as always, to the loves of my life, Finn and Keelan.
Chapter 1
The large wipers swished back and forth across the bus windshield, clunk clunk, hitting the outside edges of the windows with each pass. April 25th and the sky had opened up with a snow-rain mix. Big, wet flakes splatted the windows.
At least they were going to a warmer place for the tournament. All the way down to Nashville, Tennessee for this year’s Nash Bash. Just under eleven hours, and the Traverse City Blues RFC would arrive to sunshine and rugby. A perfect long weekend in Dave Marsden’s book.
Both the men’s and women’s teams, and partners of some, were loading their gear and luggage underneath the bus and then climbing on board. The bus lurched back and forth with the weight of the bags, the rocking motion familiar and comforting somehow to Dave.
The recent introduction of the Lady Blues team with the RFC was good. All good. Just made things a bit crowded on the bus, so Dave had started to ride up front where it was quieter. Usually he sat across from Irish and Gillian, but Irish was gone playing qualification matches for the next World Cup with the Eagles. Lucky bastard. And Gill was now sitting with some of the girls from the Lady Blues team.
Rory was his usual bus buddy, but now Rory sat with his new girl, Grace, also playing with the women’s team. That was cool. More room for him to spread out. Surprisingly, their bus driver, Joe, had music playing tonight over the speakers. Not surprisingly for northern Michigan, it was country, which wasn’t a favorite of Dave’s.
They had about six hours before their first stop, so Dave got out his travel pillow, iPad, and earphones and had just stretched out over one of the front seats when assistant coach, Shaun, came on board and handed Dave a clipboard. “Can you do me a favor and check to make sure we got everyone?”
Shaun and Coach always followed the bus in Coach’s SUV to carry the extra equipment. That also gave them a vehicle wherever they were going. It also made Dave a bit jealous for the quiet they would get.
Shaun clapped Joe on the shoulder but barely got a response from the burly bus driver. “Just let Joe know when everyone is here. Any extra passengers note at the bottom.”
Without an affirmation from Dave, Shaun skipped down the steps and was gone out the door. Okay then.
He lurched from his seat and made his way down the aisle to the back, working around bodies and gear bags. Some feet were propped up on beer cases like foot rests. Dave leaned around Mitch, who was organizing his stuff in the middle of the aisle, and checked off those already on the bus.
Jake, inside center, very last seat on the bus, headphones already on, a scowl on his face. Check.
TJ, openside flanker, and his girlfriend. Check.
Young Jimmy, tighthead prop. Check.
Champ, the Blues number eight, and his wife. Check.
Kevin, nickname of Keys, fly-half. Check.
Then a large group of Lady Blues: Brittany, Claire, Jordyn, Hillary. Lots of checks.
Gill and Junette. Double check.
Rory and Grace. Double check.
Shano was gone with Irish to the Eagles. New guy Bryce. Check.
Josh and Austin with another gaggle of Lady Blues. Check.
He marked Mitch and his girlfriend as he retraced his steps to the front and then plopped down in his seat behind the driver to wait for the rest. A half dozen more came on board, which Dave noted carefully. Then Damian, or Mouth as everyone called him, came on board with his usual noise and exuberance. “Blues, Blues, Blues,” he chanted, his fist up in the air.
Some responded back, but when he swore at Mitch who was in his way and knocked him upside the head, it stopped the comraderie dead in its tracks. What an asshole. But he was Asshole #2, the second of the Blues’ wings. Dick was Asshole #1, and with Mouth on board, that meant Dick would be coming any moment now…
Yep, the alpha asshole boarded the bus two steps at a time and then stood at the front of the bus, arms raised, and roared like a berserker. As spittle flew from Dick’s mouth, Dave flinched and reared back. Man, that guy had issues. Always seeking attention, always getting into trouble and fights, making fun of others as if he was a bully at school.
Dick did some sort of grind dance, humping some imaginary chick while swatting her ass. Class. Dave shook his head and ticked both assholes off the list. That only left the captain, Del, they were waiting on, and since Dave now was his roomie at the Blues house in town while the old farmhouse he bought was being renovated, he knew Del had left before him to make the bus. So was most likely talking shop with Coach. As captain, he took the Blues seriously, thank God.
Except, who was this?
A beautiful woman stepped up behind Dick and gave him a shove so he stumbled as he twerked. Dave chuckled. Dick righted himself but didn’t move on. She rolled her eyes and waited.
Holy shit. How did Dick get someone like that?
Platinum hair in a bob with a severe angle down to her chin. Her hair glistened with the falling snow. She wore bright red lipstick but very little black on her eyes. She was striking, but looked about as natural in the Blues bus of athletes as a wolverine in the desert. Yeah, that’s what she
reminded him of—feisty. Like she could take down Dick with a look. But it still didn’t answer the question—what the hell was she doing with him?
She stood there, a bored expression on her face as Dick gyrated up the aisle to the sound of some twangy chorus. She had on a snug, tan leather jacket with a furred hood, black skinny jeans, and black boots. The hem of her coat hit the curve of her bottom. And what an ass it was. Hoo. Dave took a deep breath and glanced away to gain his composure before he stepped up behind her. “Excuse me?”
She didn’t turn around as she waited behind Dick to settle his backpack under his seat, taking ages longer than it should because he was too busy making jokes and acting the bollocks, as Irish would say, for the other lads.
“Excuse me,” Dave said again.
Still she didn’t turn around. He tapped her on the shoulder. This time, when she did turn, her brows were furrowed over her light blue eyes, almost a gray. “You’re not on the list,” he said to her.
She sneered. “What do you want, big fella?”
“I—” He wanted her. That was what. Everything from her posture to her attitude, from her unnatural color of hair to the red of her lips, everything in her design intrigued him. He opened his mouth, but no words, he was so struck dumb by an immediate infatuation with a woman he’d seen for a minute. His heart was racing, his throat tight.
When he didn’t finish his reply, she pointed with her finger. “I’m with Dick.”
Dave held in a laugh so it sprung out his nose as a snort. Someone so beautiful…so striking…with the Dickmeister? Incomprehensible but, obviously, it was true. “That’s cool. I just need to include your name on the bus roster so we can keep track of everyone traveling with the club.”
At that, she turned to face him and hitched her elbows out to the sides to rest them on the seat backs. “No one needs to keep track of me. I’m an adult.”
Right. “I can see that. I just need a name.” He looked past her to Dick for some help but he was already gabbing with Mouth in the seat behind him.
“We ready to go?” the bus driver yelled.
“One minute,” Dave shouted back.
She tapped his clipboard. “You can call me Cherry.” She puckered, blew him a kiss, and then turned her back on him.
Damn. Straight up spicy hellion. What the hell did she see in Dick? When she got to the Blues’ wing, she nudged him, and without a word to her, still talking a mile a minute to Mouth, Dick let her through to sit by the window.
She set her oversize leather bag on her lap and stared outside. Dave followed her gaze, but there wasn’t much there. It was early evening in the parking lot of Meijers supermarket on a Thursday, cars and people coming in and out.
Dave marked a +1 next to Dick’s name. He wouldn’t forget her when he took attendance when they stopped.
There was a buzz of anticipation building in the bus as they got closer to leaving. They would travel through the night, stopping only once for a late fuel and grab some food. Yet Cherry girl didn’t seem excited at all.
Just then, Del stepped up into the bus. Dave let him pass, and he walked to the third row and stopped right next to Dick. Strategic that was. Del was a smart man. And over the last six months since he’d been living with Del in the Blues House, he’d come to admire the man even more.
“Listen up,” Del roared over the noise.
Dave tapped Joe on the shoulder and asked him to turn down the music a minute. As the noise settled, Del continued, “We have a big tournament day tomorrow so no drinking tonight. And what is my general rule?” He didn’t let them answer. “No sex before a game.” A collective groan went up. Del raised his hand. “That is for the men’s team. I can’t speak for Rory and the Lady Blues.”
“Same,” Rory stated. Didn’t even raise his voice, but by that time Del had commanded everyone’s attention, just like he always did. The charismatic captain of the Blues from New Zealand had something about him that made folk want to listen. And listen good. Even Dickmeister was now staring up at Del with more than admiration in his eyes. A bit of jealousy there, for sure.
Dave stole a glance at Cherry girl, who was looking right at him. Dave jerked his head back to Del, heat moving up his neck into his face. He heard her chuckle but didn’t dare look again. She was probably thinking why a big oaf like him was looking at a woman like her.
Chapter 2
The rumble of the bus on the highway and the murmur of conversing voices had lulled Dave to sleep after a couple hours of looking at design on his iPad. He’d also created a purchase list for Krissy, his second in command at his flower shop, Marsden Flowers, for tomorrow’s delivery and had emailed it to her.
The hiss and screech of the air breaks woke him, so he shifted upright from where he had slouched against the window and rubbed a hand down his face. His first thought was of Cherry Girl, only a few seats behind him. But he patted his cheek to rid himself of it. No use crying over spilled milk.
Still unbelievable every time he thought about her being with Dick, but he wasn’t a man to know a woman’s mind and heart even though he had a younger sister. He nonchalantly turned in a stretch of his arms over his head and got a glimpse of Dick’s lady. She was neither talking to Dick nor had her head on his shoulder. Instead, her head was bowed over something on her tray table, a tablet or laptop from the glow flickering on her face.
A quick glance around the bus showed most folk were either listening to music, looking at their phones, or talking in pairs. It had gone dark since he’d fallen asleep, and only a few had their overhead lights on, the rest of the faces lit by the glow of their screens. But they were slowly coming aware to the change in momentum and had started nudging each other.
The bus downshifted as it rolled along an exit ramp. Dave sat forward. Rory had moved up to the front with Del and was talking in low murmurs, most likely strategy for the tournament, player positions—rugby stuff.
After a quick right, the bus cruised into a truck stop. Joe maneuvered in front of a side entrance on the building and opened the bus door. Dave glanced at his watch. 11:45 p.m. The stubble on his face already itched so he gave it a good scratch. Soon he would be a twice-a-day shaver, and that would suck. He’d started doing a full shave when he was fifteen. Back then, it was cool. Now it was just annoying.
Some of the Blues had already started offloading so Dave waited patiently instead of pushing into the line that had formed to get off the bus. He wasn’t in any hurry. He grabbed his toothbrush and paste out of his backpack and patted his butt to make sure his wallet was there.
A warm air current came up the stairs from outside, and Dave drew a breath of rain-tainted air mixed with the smell of diesel and deep-fry cooking. Dick passed in the aisle with Mouth but no Cherry Girl. He looked over his shoulder to see the bus almost empty, only a few stragglers. But she was there, now standing in the aisle, adjusting something out of sight.
Hoping she’d get off the bus, Dave neatly repacked his small bag so he could be there when she passed, feel her proximity and the zap like he had before. It had been quite intoxicating, and he rarely got excited about anything except rugby. And flowers.
TJ and his missus were the last to go, and now that they were alone, his head told him not to mess with another Blues’ woman, but his heart and second head kept him focused on Cherry Girl making her way toward him. He had no idea what had gotten into him. An ugly mug himself, he never went for the overly attractive girls. Just the nice ones, the sweet ones who would look past his crooked nose, broken one too many times, and a prominent brow ridge, like a gorilla. Like a Neanderthal. Although his sister said he had the same features as Jason Mamoa minus the eyebrows, he didn’t believe it. That dude got chicks. Dave did not.
She stopped by his seat and titled her head at him. “Aren’t you getting off?”
Phew. Boy, would he like to. “After you.” He motioned with his hand toward the door, then cringed when she raised an eyebrow at him.
“Okaaay.” She
drifted past, a wave of perfume following in her wake. It was a strong scent, but not floral. He knew every one of those. But her smell was something musky. Earthy like sex. His pheromones went wild, and he quickly followed her down the steps.
Joe yelled as Dave was leaving. “Tell the others I’m gonna get some fuel and will park around the back. They can find me there.”
Dave raised his hand in acknowledgement. “Will do.” Then he jogged to open the door for Cherry. She balked when he did and came to a stop. Over her arm was the same oversize bag that she held tightly to her side. He wasn’t going to steal it, just wanted to hold the door open for the pretty lady.
“Thanks,” she said and slinked inside, walking a big semicircle around him as if he would bite.
Maybe she was concerned Dick would get jealous. And rightly so. Dave had seen Dick’s anger on and off the pitch. It wasn’t pretty, quite ugly in fact, often fueled by the smallest grievance. Dave should have thought of that before he went all charmy on her. Shit.
She turned as he entered, a small, crooked smile on her face. “It’s Sierra.”
In two strides, Dave was to her. “Sierra?”
“That’s my name. Not Cherry.” She shivered in a mocking way. “As if.”
He smiled, and when she smiled back, all beautiful white teeth in that red mouth, Dave’s cock twitched beneath his tracksuit pants. He cupped his hands in front of himself to hide the movement, but what had the lads always told him? That was the last thing you should do. It drew attention down there. If you didn’t do anything at all, they wouldn’t look.
But he had, and she’d looked. Fantastic.
A sexy smirk graced her lips before she turned into the room. A grown man of two-hundred fifty pounds, a rugby forward, a business owner, and he couldn’t control his dick.