“We are. She’s going to be his game changer.”
Game changer? Her? Mac? The woman all the guys considered just one of the boys?
Shanna nodded and smiled smugly. “The selfish bastard has met his match.”
Mac hoped like hell she hadn’t met hers.
* * * * *
Bruiser walked into the burn unit carrying a box of decadent chocolates, handmade at a little store in the Fremont district. He grinned at Elliot sitting up in the bed, bandages covering most of his body after his recent surgery. “Hey, buddy, you’re up. How ya feeling?”
The boy genius and ass-kicker in checkers frowned and shrugged his bony shoulders.
Bruiser sat on the edge of Elliot’s bed. He took the lid off the box and held it out to Elliot. “Check this out. Best chocolates in Seattle.”
Elliot stared in the box and took out one chocolate. “Thanks.” No smile. No reaction.
“Try it.”
“Later.” Elliot set the foil-wrapped chocolate on the nightstand. He stared past Bruiser and out the window.
“You need to start moving around. Stretch out your new skin so it doesn’t shrink too much. How about you and I walk up and down the hall a few times.”
Elliot sighed as if he carried the burdens of the world on his thin shoulders. Finally, he met Bruiser’s gaze. “Do you think I’ll ever have a girlfriend?”
Bruiser choked and blinked a few times. Damn, he hadn’t seen that one coming. “You’re a little young to be worrying about that now.”
“I’m eleven. Girls think I look like a monster. They’re actually afraid of me, like I’m not human.” He held up a gnarled and twisted hand. His mouth turned down in a bigger frown.
Bruiser considered Elliot’s words. “The only woman worth having is one who sees beyond what’s on the outside to the great person on the inside.” Bruiser mentally patted himself on the back for his good answer, even if it made him the world’s biggest hypocrite. After all, he rarely looked deeper than a woman’s bare skin.
“What would you know about that?” The kid’s perceptiveness set Bruiser back on his heels for a moment.
“Uh, because I’ve been there. When she didn’t get what she wanted out of me, she found someone else who could give her the money and fame she craved.” Bruiser laughed. “The joke’s on her. That next year I started in the NFL, and she ended up with a third-string quarterback who’s been cut time and again.”
“Now you can have any woman you want.”
“Sometimes that’s a curse.”
“No way.” Elliot squinted at him through the thick lenses of his glasses, as if not really buying Bruiser’s bullshit. Only it wasn’t bullshit. It was the honest-to-God truth, and Bruiser lived with it every day. Women didn’t look beyond Bruiser’s football fame and outward appearance, didn’t give a shit about what was inside. Not that he didn’t do the same thing, because he did. Yet, here he was counseling this kid on looking beneath the surface. Who the hell was he to talk?
“It can be. People take you at face value and don’t think you have anything else to offer.”
“If they take me at face value, they’ll think I’m a monster.”
“You’re not a monster. You’re going to recover, and surgery will take care of the rest.”
Elliot didn’t look convinced. Not one damn bit. Bruiser didn’t blame him. Not only did Elliot struggle with physical scars, he struggled with the deep emotional scars of losing his entire family.
“I understand you drove your friends away. You were really mean to them.”
“They either stared at me or couldn’t look at me.” Elliot crossed his skinny arms over his chest and set his jaw.
Bruiser changed tactics to tough love. “Get used to it. Be strong and stare right back. Don’t let anyone keep you from living your life. Give people a chance to get to know you. In fact, give them a reason to want to look deeper.”
The kid studied him with an intensity that was unnerving. “Is that what you do?”
Well, crap. Honesty would destroy the point Bruiser was trying to make, while dishonesty would confuse the kid because obviously Bruiser did superficial really well. “Hey, we’re not talking about me.”
“Cop-out.” Elliot threw Bruiser’s own words back in his face. “You don’t like talking about stuff, letting people see you beyond football and all those underwear ads.”
Out of the mouths of babes. Bruiser searched for one of his usual quick-witted answers to deflect personal questions. Standing, he leaned against the windowsill and put on his casual face. “You don’t think I’m a good example?”
No one had ever been that bluntly honest to Bruiser before, not like this sixty-year-old in an eleven-year-old body. Hell, Bruiser didn’t break the law, do drugs, or cause any kind of scandal to the team. He just did his thing and did it well. Sure, he lent his face and body to more endorsements than he could recall, but all the money went to a good cause, along with a good portion of his salary.
“Do you think you are? You’re physically perfect, and you don’t let anyone see inside. Why should I? I’d trade my brains for your looks any day. It’s easy for you to spout this crap when you don’t have to deal with people staring at you in horror or hugging their kids close as if you’re a danger to them.”
Bruiser sucked in a sharp breath like someone had punched him in the gut. Unwelcome memories of another time slammed into him. How the hell did this kid who’d only known him a few weeks see him more clearly than family and friends who’d known him for years?
Thank God Elliot’s nurse walked in and interrupted the conversation. Bruiser excused himself and got the hell out of there.
The truth hurt like a hammer to the head, and he damn well didn’t want to face it.
Chapter 6—Tackled for a Loss
A sexy angel answered the door of the little
