He was really fucking this up. “It’s not you, it’s them. They’re a little tough to handle.”
She didn’t look like she believed him.
Bruiser dropped the charming act. “Oh, come on, Mac. I like you. I’m trying to save you here. You don’t want to be around my mom and sister. Trust me.”
“I don’t?” She tempered her response with a smile, her eyes sparkling with mischief. Her face softened, making her look almost—pretty? Mac? Damn, his weird attraction to her needed to stop.
“You seriously don’t.”
“You just blew it, buster. Now I’m more committed than ever to meet them.”
“Please, Mac. Let me make an appointment with Armand. He’s one of the best stylists in Seattle. My treat.”
“And miss meeting Shanna and Eunice? Not on your fucking life.”
Shaking his head, he grinned at her in spite of himself. “You’re a firecracker, Mac.”
“You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
Chapter 5—You Ain’t Seen Nothing Yet
Hands with fingernails like bear claws shoved Mac into a salon chair while the She-Wolf Pack—as she’d come to think of Kelsie, Lavender, and Rachel—hovered nearby. As if they didn’t totally trust Bruiser’s sister and mother to do a good job.
Mac had her own reservations. Judging by the appearance of the place, she’d be lucky to escape without pink hair and fluorescent fingernails. She’d expected a classy salon because Bruiser was the ultimate in class. This place celebrated tacky beyond belief with hot-pink-and-purple wallpaper, purple sinks, pink countertops, and cotton-candy-pink chairs. Even the outside was a nasty Pepto-Bismol pink. All in all, it looked like a Barbie hair salon gone wild.
Shanna, Bruiser’s sister, went for gaudy-chic with bleached blond hair, a tight purple tank top, and tons of tats, while his mother, Eunice, showed a little less of her wrinkled skin—thank God—but reminded Mac of one of those dance-hall girls with red hair on the old Westerns her dad loved to watch. Had loved to watch—until everything changed.
Mac swallowed the apple-sized lump lodged in her throat. Now was not the time to think about Will. Now was the time to think about doing all she needed to impress Veronica, even if that meant subjecting herself to a Eunice-Shanna makeover overseen by the Pack.
The She-Wolves had swept Mac along like a leaf in a flash flood. Once they’d discovered her crush on Bruiser, they jumped in with reckless abandon to transform her into something she wasn’t. She prayed they didn’t tell their men everything, or Mac would never be able to face the team again, especially Bruiser.
Even worse, she hoped like hell they hadn’t told Eunice or Shanna.
Mac forced a smile as Eunice pulled up a small stool and bent over Mac’s feet, making tsking noises and shaking her head. Mac squirmed a little and got sharp tug on her hair from Shanna.
“Hold still.”
No wonder Bruiser never brought them around or mentioned them. And here she thought he’d been raised with a platinum spoon in his mouth and a trust fund to go with it, not by these two polar opposites. She almost smiled. So, Bruiser was common folk, just like her family. Who’d have guessed?
She glanced up to find Kelsie hovering over her. The former beauty queen took over, giving Shanna specific instructions and ignoring Shanna’s annoyance. Shanna slathered some smelly crap on her hair, wrapped strands in aluminum foil, and stuck her under a 500-degree hair dryer, leaving her to sweat a gallon while Eunice painted her toes a deep shade of hot pink complete with tiny Lumberjack logos on her big toe nails. Nice touch, she had to admit.
A half hour later, she sat at Shanna’s station with her back to the mirror. The Pack wouldn’t let her see until Shanna was done. Judging by the smug expression on Kelsie’s face, she liked what she saw. Eunice painted her fingernails to match her toenails. Mac drew the line at acrylic nails. She did gardening for both a living and a hobby for God’s sake.
Her hair fell to the floor at an alarming rate as Shanna snipped away. Mac tried not to watch.
Finally, as everyone in the salon oohed and aahed, Shanna spun her around. Mac gaped at the stranger looking back at her in the mirror. This person could not be her. No more split ends. No more dishwater. Her golden hair framed her face and fell a few inches below her shoulders. Wispy bangs feathered across her forehead.
“What do you think?” Shanna grinned.
“I think I don’t look like me.”
“Of course you do. We just brought the woman inside out into the light. We gave you a sassy haircut to match your sassy personality.” Eunice preened like a proud mama who’d just given birth. In a way, she had.
“You look beautiful, Mac,” Rachel gushed.
“You’re gonna knock Bruiser on his nice ass. He’ll never know what hit him. The boy will be begging for a little of your special kind of magic.” Lavender winked at her co-conspirators.
“I’m not doing this to knock Bruiser on his ass. I’m doing this to be taken seriously by Veronica to earn that scholarship.”
“Yeah, sure, whatever.” Lavender rolled her eyes. “Bruiser will be all over you.”
Mac allowed her wayward, sex-starved imagination to conjure up an image of Bruiser fucking her brains out. Not a bad idea, really. She glanced up guiltily to find Shanna and Eunice reading her as if she’d written those dirty thoughts on her forehead.
“Our Bruce and this Mackenzie?” Eunice narrowed her eyes and studied her, while Mac squirmed.
“We’re just friends.”
“Bullshit.” Lavender turned to Eunice. “She’s got the hots for him.”
“I do not,” Mac protested, mortified. Heat spread across her cheeks. She’d muzzle Kelsie and Co., or, even better, send them on a one-way trip to anywhere she wasn’t.
Eunice’s predatory smirk struck fear in Mac’s heart. “You’re just the type Bruce needs, much better than those shallow, emaciated little bitches he parades around for photo ops.”
“Bruce is an opportunist. He likes his money,” Shanna added without a bit of resentment.
“When my Bruce gets a look
