Draw Play: The Originals (Seattle Steelheads Book 4)
eighty-year-old grandmother?”“No, flirting in general. It’s harmless fun.”
“You do it just to irritate me.” Mac’s brown eyes flashed fire.
Bruiser only grinned even more. He loved getting a rise out of her. “My flirting irritates you? Most women are flattered.”
“Most women aren’t me.”
Bruiser got a chuckle out of that. “You’re so right, Mac, but I wouldn’t want you any other way. You’re an original.”
She pursed her lips as if his words tasted sour. Hell, he’d meant it to be a compliment. Time to hit the road before he fell all over himself trying to impress a woman he couldn’t impress. Bruiser stood and dropped a couple twenties on the table.
“Gotta go. This should cover it.” Then he got the hell out of there.
Whatever this weird preoccupation with Mac was, he needed to squash it. As he sped down the street in his SUV, he dialed a number and made a date for the next night.
Chapter 2—Gridiron Cinderella
Mac’s boss waved her down as she made a pass across the practice field with the riding lawn mower. She slowed and turned off the engine, annoyed at being interrupted but trying like hell not to show it. Jed Simms might be her boss and the fields and grounds manager for the Steelheads, but he was also a lifelong family friend. His craggy face reminded her of one of those dried-up applehead dolls her grandma used to make. Too much time in the sun, but even so, he seemed the picture of health.
Tapping her fingernails on the steering wheel, she waited for Jed to walk up to her. If she drove over, it’d ruin her perfectly straight lines. And no one did straight lines like Mac.
“We need to talk.” Jed grimaced, and Mac immediately went on red alert.
“Am I gonna like this?” She frowned while the pessimist inside her braced for the worst. Jed never interrupted her when she was mowing.
“Uh, knowing you, probably not.” He shook his head and looked everywhere but at Mac. This wasn’t good at all.
“What is it?” Mac held her breath. Her intuition warned of bad news ahead.
“I need a head count for the Steelheads’ annual summer barbecue at the owner’s Lake Washington mansion. Can I count you in?”
Mac scrunched up her face and shook her head so hard her ponytail slapped her in the cheek. “No way am I going to that bullshit barbecue.” Every summer, the daughter of the team’s owner put on a huge barbecue, though the name was a misnomer. It was a black-tie charity affair that made the society page of the newspaper. Nothing like Mac’s idea of a barbecue. But then, Veronica never did anything small. Unfortunately, her position as the Steelheads’ personnel director gave her the power to dictate attendance.
“Vince is going.”
“He is? That suck-ass.” Mac swore under her breath. Dread filled her. Not Vince. Her nemesis. The guy whose life’s mission was to make her look bad or get her ass fired.
“He’s willing to play the political game to reach his goals.” Jed stared her straight in the eyes, and Mac stared right back, her gaze unwavering, even though she wanted to look down.
“I’d rather be chosen on my merits, not how far my head is stuck up someone’s ass.”
So, that’s what this was about—the coveted scholarship. Every few years, the Steelheads awarded an employee a full-ride scholarship to the college of their choice, as long as their area of study benefitted the organization. Mac wanted that scholarship so badly she could taste it. Even more, she had her eye on the horticulturist position, which would be available in the next year or so due to the current horticulturist’s impending retirement. Most NFL practice facilities didn’t employ a horticulturist, but the Steelheads’ facility bordered Lake Washington and part of the property included wetlands and shoreline, which required careful management. Down the road, she’d work herself into turf management.
“This is Veronica—the owner’s daughter—we’re talking about.” Jed looked across the field as if assessing the deep-green grass, only he didn’t fool Mac. His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “Mac, Vince is lobbying to make himself the front-runner for the scholarship. He’s been here longer, and he’s trying to convince management he’s a better fit.”
“He’s a lazy ass. He hides out half the day and lets the rest of us do his work for him.”
“Management doesn’t see that. You need to make an effort here if you want that scholarship. You need to be seen out of your normal work clothes in situations other than mowing the fields or weeding the front flower beds.”
“Fine, I’ll go to that damn barbecue, but I’m not wearing a dress.” Heck, she couldn’t remember the last time she’d worn a dress. Had she ever worn a dress? Maybe when she’d been a toddler at her mother’s funeral.
Jed grinned, enjoying her annoyance all too much. “It’s all part of the job. You’ll need a date. Do you know someone you can ask?”
A date? As if on cue, Bruiser jogged by, dressed in nothing but a pair of shorts and running shoes. Mac’s eyes fastened onto the man’s ripped body, and she licked her lips so she wouldn’t embarrass herself by drooling. Sweat ran down his spine and disappeared beneath his waistband. She’d love to lick that sweat off his body, slide her hands under those shorts, and grip that fine ass of his, and then she’d—
“I never would’ve guessed it.” Jed snorted out a chuckle.
With a guilty start, Mac jerked her head back to her boss. “Guessed what?” Her face burned worse than it had on that summer day she’d fallen asleep at the beach.
“You have a thing for the team pretty boy.” The teasing glint in his eyes terrified her.
“No, I don’t. I appreciate a fine male body, that’s all.” Mac started the lawn mower to drown out Jed’s amused laughter. As she put it in gear, she shot Jed one last irritated scowl and hollered over the engine. “Don’t get any ideas. I’ll get my own