Bruiser pried her body away from his and held her at arm’s length. “What the fuck was that for?”
“My friends will never believe I’m with you if I don’t give them a picture.”
“What do you know about Will? Where’s his body buried?”
“You’ll have to fuck me to find that out.”
Bruiser didn’t want to, not one bit. Fine time to find his moral compass. He shook his head.
“Well, I don’t give out prime info for nothing.”
“You could try helping the family out, you know. You’re not friends with Sonja anymore, so why keep her secret?”
“You don’t know what she’s capable of. I like breathing. It keeps me alive.”
“Is that what happened to Will? Did he know something that killed him? Were his wife and his friend embezzling from the business?”
By the way Trudy’s lips puckered, that was exactly what happened. “I think you need to either fuck me or leave now.”
Bruiser hesitated. He couldn’t do this, not even for Mac and her father. He could not fuck this woman. It cheapened whatever he and Mac had, whatever the hell that was. With a quickness that made him legendary on the football field, he grabbed her phone, erased his picture, and walked toward the door.
“Bastard!” She called after him, “You know how to reach me if you change your mind.”
“So do you.” Bruiser left, conflicted as ever, wanting to do the right thing by Mac and her father, yet not sure what the right thing was.
* * * * *
Monday night Mac sat on her couch next to Bruiser as he surfed sports channels, watching three different baseball games at one time. The scene struck her as so domestic, one repeated by couples across America. Only they weren’t a couple. She wasn’t sure what they were.
“Do you know what’s wrong with Brett?”
“Not sure what you mean.” Bruiser’s jaw tightened, a definite sign of guilt in her book.
“He’s avoiding me, like he’s pissed. Do you think it’s because I turned down another date with him?” Mac watched him closely. He avoided her gaze, staring at the TV even as a telltale muscle jerked in his strong jaw. “Bruiser, what happened?”
With a sigh, he turned to her. “He knows about us, and he’s not happy. He thinks I’ll use you and walk away.”
“How does he know about us?” She certainly didn’t want to be the weekly gossip at Steelheads’ HQ.
“I didn’t say a word. He just figured it out. He won’t say anything.”
“I’m a big girl. I’ll handle my own sex life, thank you. I’m glad he knows. I really am.”
“Yeah, I know, but he feels betrayed.” Bruiser put his arm around her and pulled her close, and Mac had the distinct feeling it was more to comfort Bruiser than her. Brett’s reaction really did bother him.
“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt him.”
“Me neither. I’d give anything to see him find a woman and be happy, but it’s out of my control.” Bruiser buried his face in her hair, nibbling on her earlobe.
Mac pushed him away. “Calm down, mister. I need to ask you something before you get too carried away.”
He pulled back a little, his expression wary. “Sure, as long as it doesn’t have a thing to do with Trudy.”
“It doesn’t, I promise. I understand there’s a huge charity event this weekend. A big deal. I need more time with Veronica. Would you escort me?” Mac knew she was taking a chance. She would get time with Veronica, but was seeing her with Bruiser a help or hindrance?
“You have an invitation?”
“Well, no, but you do. It’s a charity that the Steelheads—and you—have supported for a long time. The burn foundation.”
“Yeah, I know.” That muscle ticked harder in his jaw, and suddenly the Mariners seemed to hold more interest than seducing her.
She’d hit that nerve, the same one she’d hit before. “What’s the score?”
He blinked a few times and looked at her. “Of what?”
“The game you’re so engrossed in?”
“I, uh, don’t know.”
Mac socked his arm, trying to steer the conversation from serious to playful. “So what about taking me? I’m not asking for you to declare that we have a relationship, just to take me as a friend.”
“Do we have a relationship?” He turned to her, all serious, as his gaze searched hers, as if he’d find the answer somewhere in her eyes.
“A sexual one.” She didn’t know how else to answer that question.
“Mac”—he stared at her, his gaze earnest—“I suck at relationships. The last one I had ended in disaster. I’m not going there again. Not for a long time.”
“I understand.” Everyone knew Bruiser had been married and that his ex-wife had dumped him for an NFL third-string quarterback. Mac didn’t know the details, but obviously the woman had laid waste to Bruiser’s heart.
“Actually, you don’t. Not really. I’m damaged goods, and there’s not a thing you can do to fix me.”
“I’m not asking for anything deep.” She wanted to reassure him and herself. “This is just a physical thing, and we have to keep it quiet. Veronica won’t react favorably to it.”
“I haven’t told anyone.”
And he wouldn’t, she thought. He was ashamed to be seen with her as a girlfriend. She didn’t fit his image. He didn’t have to tell her that. She already knew it. He could use every excuse in the book, but the truth was as obvious as Mountain Morse, the team’s all-pro tackle, when he lumbered into the room.
“That doesn’t mean I won’t take you as a friend. Everyone knows we’re buddies.”
Oh, lord, was that what they were? Fuck buddies? She’d reduced herself to being this guy’s plaything? She thought she had more pride than that, but apparently not.
Bruiser continued, “I’ll seat you next to Veronica, and it’ll be up to you to impress the hell out of her. I’ll help in any way
