More to keep busy than because of any optimism, Mac spent nights and weekends poring over old evidence and hunting down new clues, yet nothing wiped Bruiser’s teasing smile from her memory. She could still feel his skin against hers and his lips on her lips.
Late Friday night, Mac still couldn’t get Bruiser out of her mind. She walked down the hallway near the locker room on her way to her car. Bruiser burst around the corner and slammed into her, ramming her into the wall and knocking the wind out of her. Before she could sink to the floor, he grabbed her waist and hauled her to him. For a moment, she leaned into him, savoring the feel of his hard body, breathing in his freshly scrubbed scent, and forgetting her best intentions as she drowned in those warm blue-gray eyes. And they were warm tonight. Very warm. He felt so right, so strong, so confident.
And yet he was so wrong for her.
“Whoa, there. Keep that up, and we’ll put you on defense, sweetheart. Not that I mind. Not at all.” He slipped into his charming act so easily Mac wondered who he’d been practicing it on lately.
Bruiser gazed down at her with his sexy half smile and laughing eyes. Lord help her, she wanted to taste him, lick him, and get him naked, not necessarily in that order.
He set her back on her feet. “You okay, babe?”
“I think so.” She wasn’t okay. She was way beyond okay and nudging toward the screwed-up end of the scale.
He eyed her with concern gentling his eyes as he absently rubbed his stubble. “You’re here late tonight.”
An obvious observation, but she kept her sarcasm under wraps. “We can’t take care of the turf when you’re on it. Besides, I could say the same of you. Practice ended hours ago.”
“That’s how dedicated I am.” He grinned his full-blown panty-dropper smile. “I’ll walk you to your car.” Bruiser held open the door for her and walked beside her to the parking lot.
They’d almost reached her car when Vince sauntered up. “Hey, Bruiser. You guys are looking good this year.” The jerk ignored Mac as if she were an insignificant speck of dirt on the asphalt. As usual.
“As long as we stay healthy.” Bruiser turned to walk away, taking Mac by the arm and steering her the last few steps to her car.
Vince called to Mac, faking sympathy. “I’m sorry about the scholarship, Mac. Maybe next time.”
Mac stopped in her tracks and spun around. “What do you know about the scholarship?”
Vince’s hand flew to his mouth in an unconvincing display of contrition. “Oh, no, I’m sorry. Veronica didn’t tell you?”
“Tell me what?” But she already knew.
“I was awarded the scholarship.” He delivered the gut punch and then smugly nodded at Bruiser and strutted off.
“Asshole,” Bruiser muttered. “Mac, I’m sorry. Really sorry.” He stared at her, tucking one stray blonde strand behind her ear in a gentle gesture that nearly undid her.
“Not as sorry as I am.” A sob rose past her throat. She hiccupped. Oh, fuck, she wasn’t going to cry, was she? She rarely cried, even over her brother. She just didn’t cry.
“Come on, sweetheart, let me buy you dinner.” Bruiser’s truly sympathetic gaze melted her heart.
She hesitated. It was a stupid, foolish idea, but she didn’t want to go home alone. Or even worse, to go home and find her father there spying on the neighbors. He’d been spending more and more time in the evenings at her house watching Sonja and Ben, who’d been much more active in their garden lately, almost like they were taunting Craig.
“Okay.” She ignored the little voice telling her this was so not a good idea as she climbed into his car.
They found a dark corner booth in O’Malley’s. She didn’t complain when he slid next to her, put his arm across the back of the booth, and his muscled thigh pressed hers.
She sniffed and rubbed her eyes. He handed her a napkin. “I really wanted that scholarship.”
“I know, honey, I know.” He hugged her close to him, tucking her under his arm, with the same possessiveness he gave a football as he busted his way through defenders.
Mac turned her head and buried her face in his broad shoulder. It seemed the most natural thing to do. She sniffled again. The pathetic whimpering sound escaping from her constricted throat sounded like an abandoned puppy.
The lost scholarship was the last straw. All the anguish she’d suppressed over the past three years bubbled up and swamped her.
Bruiser held her to him as she sobbed into his chest, unable to staunch the flood of tears. Her breathing came in staccato gasps of pure sorrow. Nothing had gone right in her life since Will disappeared—except Bruiser. And that hadn’t lasted. Sure, he was here now, but only because he was one of the good guys, and he wouldn’t desert a blubbering woman.
When she lifted her head, he dabbed gently at her tear-stained cheeks with a napkin. Despite his gentle smile, his eyes shone with fierce determination, as if he’d slay dragons for her—or even the Pittsburgh Steelers defensive line. It’d been so long since anyone worried about her well-being that she almost lost it again. A wet splotch on his shirt gave evidence to the extent of her tears.
“What am I going to do?” Her voice sounded weak and plaintive. God, she hated weak women, and she’d become one herself.
“The best you can with the hand you’ve been dealt, and I’d put my money on you any day.” Straightening in the booth, he looped his arm loosely around her shoulders, his hip pressed against hers. She laid her head on his shoulder.
“Thank you.” Along with the gratitude, desire wrapped its tentacles around her rib cage. Her body signaled its interest, and her brain, as usual where Bruiser was concerned, took a vacation.
“I’m truly sorry, Mac. Especially for my part in this.”
“Your part? You had a part?” What did he
