“Yeah. Veronica suspected that you and I had something going, and she didn’t like it one bit. I think your association with me hurt you more than helped you.”
Mac sighed. “Is that why you broke it off?” If there might be a ray of hope in this crappy dark cloud hanging over her, it would be that Bruiser didn’t really want to end their affair, but that he’d done it for her.
“Yeah, that was part of it, along with not liking to talk about my brother.” He gave her a lopsided smile. “We were damn good together. You know that?”
“Yes, we are.” Mac chewed on her lower lip, then just blurted it out. “Come home with me tonight.”
“I was hoping like hell you’d ask.” His slow, sexy smile drove home how happy he was.
“Where is this going?”
“Fuck if I know. Let’s just go with it.”
Mac nodded. Maybe she was crazy, but she was ready to take the journey with Bruiser. After all, some of the best road trips happened when she didn’t know where she was going until she got there.
Chapter 18—Puzzled
Bruiser pulled his car behind Mac’s in the driveway. He had to stop for gas, so she beat him home by about five minutes. The front door was open, and he invited himself inside. Mac stood by the kitchen counter staring at an envelope in her hand. As Bruiser came up behind her, he caught the Steelheads’ return address on the letter.
Oh, crap.
Mac’s hand trembled, and Bruiser squeezed her shoulder to steady her. She stared at the envelope long and hard.
“Are you going to open it?” He sent up a silent plea that Vince, the jerk bastard, didn’t know a damn thing.
Mac ripped the flap off the envelope and read the letter. By the crestfallen look on her face, no such luck. The letter fluttered from her fingers to the floor.
Bruiser held her to him. “I’m sorry.”
Mac sniffed again and leaned against his chest. Bruiser kissed her hair, inhaling the intoxicatingly fresh scent of her. Pure Mac, forever ingrained in his mind.
“This is just not my day.” She tried to laugh but failed. Together, they stood in silence staring out across the backyard, both lost in private thoughts.
Finally, Mac turned to face him. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Despite the remnants of tears on her cheeks, she managed a smile just for him, one that snuggled close to his heart and made him feel special, not for the superficial reasons everyone saw, but for the person inside.
He pulled her close, holding her tight against him, and lost his heart and soul gazing into those deep coffee-brown eyes of hers. She felt right, a rightness that went beyond mere lust and, despite some of the more obvious differences, fit him better than a custom-made tuxedo or an old pair of favorite faded blue jeans.
Picking her up, he carried her outside to the back patio. He figured bed could wait. She’d feel better out in the yard she took such good care of, with the crickets chirping and frogs croaking and the sound of a breeze rustling boughs of cedar trees.
Mac didn’t question his intent, just clung to him, trusting him.
He wanted to be that man for her, the one who stood beside her through all the good and bad things life threw at them, the one who fought tooth and nail for her, the one who gave her everything and got more from the giving than the receiving.
But he couldn’t give her everything. He couldn’t solve her brother’s mystery any more than he could change Elliot’s situation. Maybe for a while tonight they could both pretend he could be that guy who could make everything okay—even if it was an illusion.
He laid Mac on the chaise lounge with the overstuffed cushion covered in bright Hawaiian flowers. Glancing around the dark patio and out at the tall fence, he doubted anyone would be able to see them. At this point he didn’t really give a shit anyway. He just wanted Mac to fill the piece of him that went missing whenever she wasn’t around and to be her missing piece in turn.
The only way he knew how to do that was with his body, because his glib tongue deserted him when the stakes were too high. Words weren’t adequate, words he couldn’t say or even think.
So he turned off his mind and gave in to his heart.
* * * * *
Mac gazed up at Bruiser standing over her, looking like a lost little boy carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders. She knew the extent of that weight after conversations with Shanna and Brett, but she wasn’t going to say anything. More than anything she wanted him to trust her enough to reveal his secrets himself.
He’d given her comfort tonight, and she’d do her best to reciprocate. “Let me take the lead this time.” Mac stood and pointed to the lounge chair.
Bruiser didn’t argue. He stripped off his clothes, rolled on a condom, and lay on the chaise lounge, his tanned, ripped body visible in the moonlight. Damn, he was a fine specimen, from those blue-gray eyes, to the muscles rippling in broad shoulders, down to his flat, ridged stomach and strong thighs. The man even had sexy feet.
Mac tugged her T-shirt over her head, and her bra followed. She shimmied out of her jeans and underwear. Straddling the narrow lounge chair, she lowered herself onto him, sitting back on her haunches and resting her ass on his stomach. His erect penis pressed against one butt cheek. Mac groaned as his muscular chest pressed against her breasts, her nipples hypersensitized. She arched her back, pressing her crotch into his, but not letting him penetrate, not yet. Tonight wasn’t about wild animal lust; tonight was something gentle and fragile like a rare and delicate orchid blooming for the first time.
She leaned down, planting
