Draw Play: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Book 4)

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Draw Play: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Book 4) Page 23

by Jami Davenport


  Why the hell she’d come here, she didn’t know.

  After driving around endlessly, trying not to think about her bleak future, she’d ended up at Bruiser’s condo, a place she’d never been to before but had the address for. But Bruiser wasn’t home. She stared at her silent cell phone, which she’d switched off hours ago. She didn’t attempt to turn it back on, not that anyone would be calling except for her father with news of his latest harebrained scheme.

  The She-Wolves would be with their guys. There wasn’t anyone else. She had hit rock bottom. She needed Bruiser.

  It was getting late, and Bruiser still wasn’t home. He’d probably hooked up with some beautiful woman Mac could never compete with. Of course, she’d given up the right to do so after she’d pretty much set him straight about his ludicrous marriage suggestion. As much as she’d like to help Elliot, she couldn’t sell her soul to that particular devil. In exchange for what? A wedding ring? A stable home? A college education? A lifetime in a marriage with a man she adored—most likely loved—but who didn’t love her?

  She must have dozed off, because the next thing she knew, she was startled awake by someone rapping on her driver’s-side window. Bruiser’s handsome face was illuminated by the streetlamp next to her car.

  Mac rolled down the window. “Hi.”

  “I’ve been looking all over hell and back for you.” His brow was furrowed with worry and his blue eyes shone with concern.

  “I was here, waiting for you.” She loved that he’d been looking for her. It gave her those warm fuzzies. It gave her hope.

  “No shit?” He almost laughed. “Come on, let’s go in.”

  “This was a bad idea. I’d better go home.”

  “You’ve been waiting here for me and now you want to go home? How about a cup of coffee?”

  A cup of coffee sounded good, but it’d be followed by a half-gallon of sex. “I’d better not. It’s late, and you have practice tomorrow.”

  Bruiser glanced at his Rolex. “It’s only ten. I can spare you an hour.”

  “Okay.” Willpower was overrated anyway.

  He took her hand and led her into his roomy condo. Inside the entry was a huge open-plan living, dining, and kitchen area, upgraded with granite countertops and dark cabinets. The ultra-sleek and modern furniture was all beige, with pillows for a splash of color. Even though it wasn’t her style, it was actually comfortable. Typical man: a huge flat-screen dominated one wall, while through the huge wall of windows, the waters of Lake Washington glittered in the distance.

  Bruiser pulled her into his arms and held her close, stroking her hair. “I heard about your job.”

  Mac resisted the urge to bury her head in his chest and let go of the pain and fear. Instead, she stiffened in his arms. This was not a good idea. In fact, it was a stupid-assed one to the nth degree.

  “I’m glad you came. You know I’ll always be here for you.” His soft, gentle voice washed over her, relaxing her a little. He stroked her back, his touch gentle yet strong. As if he could be strong for her.

  “Yes, I know.”

  “Everything will be okay, Mac. You’ll see.”

  Easy for him to say. He made more than seven million a year. “I know. I’m tough. I’ll get through it.” She put her palms on his chest and stepped away. “Coming here was a stupid idea.”

  Bruiser frowned. “Then why did you come here?”

  “I don’t know.” Oh, God, she was going to cry in front of this man again. He must think she spent half her time crying.

  He stood a few feet from her, his hands shoved in his pockets, tapping one foot, as if he couldn’t stand not doing something. Bruiser was a fixer, but he couldn’t fix this. No one could. Not even her.

  “Mac.” He took a step forward.

  She held out her hands to stop him. “I’d better leave. I’m just prolonging the inevitable.”

  “What’s the inevitable?”

  “The end—again—of our—uh—affair, whatever you want to call it.”

  “We don’t have to end it.”

  “I do. For my own good, I need to end it.”

  “Why? Why can’t we stay together?”

  “As what?”

  “Well, the guys had that one idea.”

  “To get custody of Elliot, not because you wanted to spend the rest of your life with me.” Mac rubbed her hands over her face and squeezed her eyes shut for a moment.

  When she opened her eyes, Bruiser met her gaze, his jaw tight and his eyes hard. “Maybe I do. Maybe I want that. Did you think I’d marry you and then screw around?”

  Mac shrugged and looked away, unable to hold his gaze. She picked up a small vase and pretended to study it.

  “Well, I’m not wired like that, despite what you might think.”

  “I don’t know what to think. Why would you be willing to spend the rest of your life with a woman you didn’t love?” Mac held her breath, praying he might throw her a bone, give her a reason to hope, to believe they might actually have something.

  His expression was unreadable. “You’re a friend. We like a lot of the same things. We have a lot in common.”

  “But do you love me?”

  Bruiser frowned and stared at his feet. “I don’t know. Love is one of those things I’ve never been good at defining.”

  But he hadn’t said no, and Mac wanted to say yes to this crazy idea. How could she swallow her pride and agree to an arrangement based on practicality and not love? “It won’t work.”

  “Mac, I married once because I thought I was in love. We had nothing in common outside of the bedroom, and obviously that wasn’t enough for her. So, as I see it, we have a better chance than CeCe and I did.”

  Mac shook her head. “I can’t do it. Even for Elliot.”

  “I’ll pay for your college.”

  “Now you’re bribing me again.” She managed a smile.

  He gave her one of those sexy Bruiser grins. “Damn right. Anything it takes.”

  “Just not this. I’m so sorry. I really want you to get custody of Elliot. Really, I do. But not this way.”

  “Think about it. Don’t close your mind to the possibilities. We’re damn good in bed, you know.”

  “That’s not enough.” Mac shook her head. “I’m going to leave now.”

  Bruiser didn’t protest.

  Mac, her mind churning, drove back to her lonely house and the company of her cat.

  Chapter 21—Baggage Claim

  A few days later, Mac sat with Kelsie in Eugenio’s, a small Italian restaurant near the Kirkland waterfront. Eugenio’s boasted the best lasagna in the area, but it might as well have been sawdust for as much interest as Mac had in her food.

  Kelsie gushed about her life with Zach, and Mac felt a twinge of jealousy. She wanted what Kelsie had, yet she knew Zach and Kelsie’s relationship hadn’t started out that way. Mac, who wasn’t prone to nervousness, couldn’t quite broach the reason she’d invited Kelsie here. As dinner wound down, and Kelsie kept glancing at her watch, Mac knew she’d better get a set of balls soon or miss her opportunity. She’d never been good with girl talk and spilling her guts.

  Kelsie paused, took a deep breath, and studied Mac. “I’m sorry, I must be boring you. It’s too bad the other girls couldn’t make it.”

  “Actually, I didn’t invite them.”

  “Oh, really?” Kelsie, ever the lady, folded her hands in her lap and waited. A slight smile graced her beautiful, flawless face.

  Mac would never look that good if she spent millions on a makeover and plastic surgery. “I thought we could spend a little time getting to know each other.”

  “Well, that’s nice.” Kelsie’s tone might have been polite, but her expression was shrewd. “What would you like to know, specifically, that the other girls can’t hear?”

  Leave it to Kelsie to manage to nicely cut through the bullshit.

  “I wanted to talk to you in confidence about the circumstances of your marriage.”

&nb
sp; “Okay.” Mac could almost see Kelsie’s guard going up. “Why are you interested?”

  Mac needed to give Kelsie more if she was going to get any useful answers. “This has to do with Bruiser. He wants me to marry him.”

  “Oh, Mac, that’s wonderful. Do you need help planning the wedding?” Kelsie smiled like the beauty queen she’d been, genuinely happy for Mac.

  “Not exactly. This would be a marriage based on need, not love.”

  Kelsie’s face puckered in confusion.

  “He needs a wife in order to get guardianship of Elliot. And I need his money for a college education.”

  “Ah.” Kelsie nodded and smiled, relaxing back into her chair. “I get it now. A marriage of convenience. That’s why you came to me.”

  “Uh, yeah. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Not at all, it’s common knowledge among our friends that my marriage started as a business proposition that was mutually beneficial to both of us.”

  “Business partners with benefits.”

  “Exactly.” Kelsie laughed. Even her laugh was classy and feminine. If she wasn’t so nice, Mac would be totally insecure around her. “So, what are the parameters? Is there a time frame? Does it include benefits?”

  “I’m sure it would since we’re utilizing those benefits right now. And no time frame that I’m aware of. In fact, he made it sound permanent.”

  “So what’s the issue?”

  “What about love?”

  “Ah, love. Do you love him?”

  Mac opened her mouth to answer but Kelsie held up a hand to stop her. “Give me the truth of what’s in your heart, not some rehearsed garbage.”

  Mac gave Kelsie the truth. “I’ve had a crush on Bruiser ever since he joined the Steelheads, even before I started working there. We got to be friends, and even though I wanted more, he didn’t see me that way.”

  “And now?”

  “Now I’m sure he sees me as a friend and a sex partner.”

  “That’s a good start. Zach and I didn’t even have that, and now we’re madly in love with each other.” Kelsie’s eyes sparkled just mentioning Zach’s name.

  “We’re the reverse of you and Zach. Bruiser is the beautiful one in the relationship.”

  “Now, Mac, don’t sell yourself short. You look fantastic. You have that girl-next-door beauty and that inner glow.”

  “Thanks.” Mac ducked her head, feeling oddly embarrassed and pleased at the same time.

  “So when is the wedding?” Kelsie’s wheels were turning, obviously a mile ahead on the wedding plans.

  “I told him no.”

  “And why did you do that?”

  “Because he doesn’t love me.”

  “Think about it. You’ll have more than a lot of marriages starting out. Besides, who says he doesn’t love you?”

  “He’s never said he does.”

  “I didn’t know I loved Zach or that he loved me. Yet I think we did marry for love. We just didn’t recognize it for what it was.”

  Mac mulled over Kelsie’s words, then rejected them as ludicrous. Sure, the sex between her and Bruiser scorched right to their souls. They had chemistry, and they had common interests. But Mac secretly believed in romance and love and all that mushy crap. She wanted a forever love. Maybe her expectations weren’t the least bit realistic. Maybe she should lower them.

  “Do you guys have mutual goals in life?”

  Mac jumped, startled out of her musing. She didn’t really have any goals anymore. Since neither of them lived their own lives but their versions of what others expected, they were a sorry pair.

  So why was she even considering it?

  For Elliot?

  Or was Elliot a way to justify something she wanted to do for herself?

  * * * * *

  When Mac pulled in her driveway later that evening, Elliot leaped up from where he’d been sitting on the front porch. He wore a hooded sweatshirt, which had to be too warm for the weather, a baseball cap, and baggy jeans, not the fashionable kind popular with some kids, but ones that were a size too big.

  “Elliot? What are you doing here?” Mac glanced around. Bruiser couldn’t have brought him. He had flown out yesterday morning to the East Coast for the game—not that she was keeping track of his schedule or anything. He wouldn’t be back until late tonight.

  “I needed to get out, and Bruiser is gone.” Elliot smiled hopefully at her while he fidgeted with a strap on his backpack.

  “It’s almost eight thirty. Does your aunt know you’re here?” Mac wouldn’t be swayed by the kid’s attempt to charm her.

  Elliot shuffled his feet and stared at the ground. “Uh, not really.” Then he glanced up quickly with an engaging grin. “I was bored. I came to see you.”

  “How did you get here?” Mac unlocked her front door and Elliot followed her in.

  “I rode the bus.”

  “Elliot, you need to call your aunt, then I’m taking you back home.”

  Elliot plopped down in on the step. “I’m not going. I’ll just run away again.”

  “Please, I can’t keep you here.”

  “Because you don’t want to.” Elliot sniffled and rubbed what little was left of his nose. Mac handed him a tissue.

  “It’s not that simple.”

  “It is that simple. Why don’t you just marry Bruiser? We can be a family.” Elliot perked up and managed a lopsided grin that reminded her oddly of Bruiser.

  Mac gave him her best evil eye. “Wherever did you come up with an idea like that?”

  Elliot pursed his lips and shrugged, putting on an innocent act. “Just thought it sounded good.”

  “Did Bruiser put you up to this?”

  The kid regarded her with a puzzled frown. “Uh, no, why would he?” He pushed his glasses up higher on his nose.

  It was Mac’s turn to be flustered. “No reason.”

  “I heard Aunt Ruth talking to someone on the phone. She said she’d transfer guardianship to Bruiser because he has the means to help me, while they don’t, but she needs to make sure that the atmosphere is adequate.”

  “And that means he needs to be married?”

  “Yeah, and settled down. I mean he’d have to stop his modeling and stuff.”

  “I see.” Mac thrust her phone at him.

  “Aunt Ruth says modeling half-naked is the devil’s work.”

  Mac nodded, trying not to laugh at the image of Bruiser doing the devil’s work complete with pitchfork and pointed tail.

  “So why don’t you marry him?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “That’s what all adults say when it’s really pretty easy.”

  Okay, this conversation needed to end now. Right now. Elliot was essentially a runaway. “Call your aunt. Let her know I’ll be bringing you home right away.”

  “I made a friend at school.” Elliot changed the subject so quickly Mac took a moment to catch up.

  “Good for you.”

  “We play chess together.”

  Mac smiled, happy to see Elliot adjusting well but refusing to fall for his attempt to distract her. “Good, good. Now call her.”

  Mac went into the kitchen and waited for Elliot to finish his call, then she picked up her car keys. “Let’s go.”

  “She’s mean to me. My uncle stares at me really funny, and not just because of how I look.”

  Mac hesitated, the hair rising on the back of her neck. “How does he stare at you?”

  “Just—weird. I can’t really explain it. Like he thinks I’m a sinner he has to save.”

  Mac hoped like hell that’s all it was.

  A lone tear ran down Elliot’s cheek. “I miss my mom and dad. Mom always read to me at night from the classics, and Dad helped me with my science projects. These people don’t believe in reading anything but the Bible.”

  “Well, the Bible is a good book.” Mac was trying hard to be positive.

  “So are a lot of other books.”

  “What did your
aunt say on the phone?”

  “They didn’t know I was gone, but now that they do, I think I’m in trouble.”

  “I’m sure you are. Elliot, you can’t run off like that. Promise you won’t do it again.”

  “If you’ll marry Bruiser.”

  “That’s blackmail.”

  Elliot nodded, a slight grin on his splotchy face. “Will you?”

  “I’ll think about it.” Mac sighed. “Come on, let’s go.”

  Elliot threw his arms around her and hugged her. She hugged him back, as the clever little boy burrowed deeper into her heart.

  “I love you, Mac.” He grinned at her and skipped ahead to the car, happier than she’d ever seen him, singing a song that sounded suspiciously like “Love and Marriage.”

  Elliot loved her, Bruiser wanted to marry her, and she was currently unemployed. She needed to find a way to dig herself out of this complicated hole. It was complicated. Wasn’t it?

  * * * * *

  Bruiser stared at the ceiling of the hotel room. He couldn’t sleep. Normally he slept pretty well until a nightmare woke him up. Tonight, he couldn’t even fall asleep.

  “Hey, your thrashing around is fucking keeping me awake,” Brett called from the next bed.

  “Since when? You’d sleep through a nuclear attack.”

  “Yeah, well, not tonight.” Brett sounded as cranky as Bruiser’s great-aunt Alma without her morning shot of bourbon. “Worried about the game?”

  “I wish that’s all it was,” Bruiser admitted.

  “Then what is it? Mac?”

  “How’d you know?”

  “I’m psychic, what the hell do you think? You dumb ass, you’re in love with her.”

  “What?” Bruiser shot up in bed and gave his buddy his best eat-shit-and-die glower, only it was wasted due to the darkness of the room. He slumped back against the headboard.

  “You heard me. You’ve been a jerk to deal with lately. Since you’ve been hanging around the film room into the evening, I can only guess you’re not spending nights in Mac’s bed, and no one else’s, for that matter. Haven’t seen you in one gossip magazine in a few months.”

 

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