Veronica glided up to them as smoothly as a figure skater and hugged Bruiser with more warmth than Mac ever thought she could possess. Then she turned to Mac. Her brow furrowed, her frown deepened, bringing out wrinkles around the corners of her perfect lips. “I think we’ve met before, but I can’t place you.” She looked Mac up and down, as if she were looking over a piece of horseflesh at an auction.
“I’m Mackenzie Hernandez.” Mac held out her hand hoping a handshake would be appropriate.
Veronica shook her hand and continued to study her. “Mackenzie Hernandez?”
“I’m a groundskeeper at Steelheads’ headquarters.”
“Oh, that’s where I’ve seen you. You didn’t look quite the same.” She peered at Mac again, then dismissed her and turned her attention on Bruiser. He tried to steer the conversation back to Mac several times, but Veronica wasn’t having any of it. She had great plans for a promo spot with Bruiser, and Mac was just an inconvenience she chose to ignore. The more Veronica drank, the more she hung on Bruiser’s arm.
“Veronica, Mackenzie was admiring your landscaping.” Bruiser subtly extracted himself from the woman’s grip and tucked Mac’s hand in his. His big hand felt warm and comforting surrounding her smaller hand and gave her confidence.
Mac jumped at the lead-in Bruiser gave her. “I love your wisteria arbor. That color isn’t one I’ve seen before.”
Veronica looked at her as if she were nuts. “That’s my mother’s job. She’s in charge of the gardens. I have no interest in them.”
Bruiser gave Mac one of those looks that she interpreted as don’t worry about her. “Well, Mac has two years toward her horticulture degree at the UW.”
For the first time Veronica perked up. “What house were you in?”
“House?”
“Sorority.”
“Oh, I wasn’t in one.” Strike three. Mac didn’t even go down swinging.
“I see.” Veronica looked over her head and waved at someone. “I must be off to my guests. Bruce, do think about what we’ve discussed and get back to me within a few days.”
“Yeah, sure.”
With that she flitted off.
“I tried.” He gave her a shrug. His blue-gray eyes were apologetic.
“I know. Thanks for the effort.” She leaned into him slightly as he stared down at her. Her heart pitter-patted with gratitude. Bruiser Mackey wasn’t such a bad guy after all.
“She’s a self-centered bitch.” Bruiser flicked his gaze to Veronica and back to Mac.
“Try entitled, self-centered bitch.”
He smiled. “That too. We aren’t done with her yet.” His crooked smile gave him a boyish look. The man was so outrageously handsome. No guy should be that good-looking. She was going to enjoy this night while it lasted. Cinderella at the ball with Prince Charming and all that.
Only there was no glass slipper, and her Prince Charming wasn’t looking for a happily ever after. Or anything beyond a one-night stand, and not with Mac. She’d fallen for the most impossible guy in the world.
That’s what made him safe.
* * * * *
Tyler finished his joke with his usual asshole panache, sending the crowd of people into raucous laughter. Bruiser faked it, even though he had no flipping clue what the punch line had been. The attention-whore quarterback had been entertaining the troops for about a half hour, thoroughly enjoying himself. Usually Bruiser vied for the center of attention along with Harris, but not tonight. He had a, uh, distraction.
Mac stood with Kelsie, Rachel, and Lavender, looking like a woman plotting her escape from tyrants. He would know; he’d hardly taken his eyes off her the entire evening. Something about this version of Mac did it for his dick. Or had he been in denial for a while now? After all, he’d been having these erotic daydreams about her for the past couple weeks way before this makeover. He couldn’t quite put his finger on when he started seeing her as a woman, not just a buddy. But he had and now he couldn’t let the images go.
Shit.
He didn’t date women he worked with. The added complication made the inevitable breakup way too messy. Bruiser liked to keep his breakups quick, tidy, and amicable. Not only did this weird attraction to Mac not work for him on so many levels, it wouldn’t work for her. Brett was interested in her. Brett, the only true friend he really had.
Dammit.
Even so…
What harm could one little dance do?
A band started playing as a deep-red sun set to the west. Colored lights lit up as darkness settled, the alcohol flowed freely, and the party showed no signs of stopping.
Despite his best intentions, Bruiser found himself drawn to Mac’s side. At five foot eleven, Bruiser wasn’t tall, but Mac was only five three or four. She made him feel like a big guy. He liked that a lot more than all those models he dated. A guy’s ego could take a hit when he had to look up at a woman.
Mac glanced up at him through lowered lashes as he stepped up beside her, in an oddly feminine display of shyness. The relief in her brown eyes sent satisfaction surging through him. She’d missed him at her side, or those three friends of hers were just that scary. Either way, he’d take it.
He smiled down at her, and she smiled back. His stomach did a triple axel with a twist, leaving him fighting to breathe. Women did not affect him this way unless it had to do with sex. He couldn’t quantify his feelings for Mac; they were different and not going in a direction he intended to travel. It would be smart to fake some sudden illness and get the hell out of here, but he wasn’t that smart.
Next thing he knew, his mouth took over for his brain,
