Draw Play - Jami Davenport Page 0,20
what I know about.”
She didn’t look convinced as Bruiser helped her in the car. She pulled lipstick from her purse and carefully applied it, dabbing at a smear on one corner of her mouth. Bruiser stared at her full red lips and forgot to drive. His pants felt two sizes too small and his cock two sizes too big. He swerved just in time to miss a street sign.
“Been driving long?”
He let out a long breath and stared straight ahead, embarrassed as hell. “You think?”
“I think you’re behaving strangely. I don’t look that different.”
He snorted, unable to come up with any other response.
* * * * *
Mac forced her eyes straight ahead when all she wanted to do was stare at Bruiser in that tux. His broad shoulders filled it out just right. There couldn’t be another man on earth who did justice to a tux like Bruiser did. But then, Bruiser did justice to just about anything, including a well-worn pair of jeans.
He glanced at her, catching her ogling him. “Amazed by my raw sexuality?”
Mac bit back an unladylike response and distracted him with the first thing that came to mind. “Your family isn’t quite what I expected.”
By the way Bruiser’s face hardened, she’d picked the wrong subject and stepped into a big pile of shit and, so typical of her, she trudged right on through it. Yeah, don’t heed the warning signs, just dig yourself a grave-sized hole. “I mean, they’re nice enough.”
“You don’t have to explain yourself. Everyone says that.” Bruiser’s smile idled on his face, motor running but no power behind it. His eyes had turned a cold stone gray.
“How come this is the first time I’ve met them? In fact, I thought your parents didn’t live anywhere around here.”
“My father doesn’t. He’s in LA.” Bruiser’s jaw tightened, and he stared straight ahead.
“They’re divorced?” She just didn’t know when to shut up. Never been one of her special skills.
“Like a dozen times between the two of them.”
“Oh, wow.” Mac shook her head in surprise.
“Yeah, wow. You can see why I have no respect for marriage. It’s a crock.”
“I understand why you’d see it that way. Do you only have a sister?”
“I had a brother too,” he said in an emotionless voice, his closed expression not inviting further questions. A muscle jerked in his strong jaw. She’d inadvertently hit another sore subject, actually beyond sore—an open, gaping wound.
A brother? She’d never heard that before. Yet he’d said had, as if his brother no longer existed. Maybe they were estranged. Or something happened to him. Something Bruiser very obviously didn’t want to discuss. Tons of questions raced through her mind, but for once, she curbed her nosiness. Everyone had private pain. She should know that better than anyone.
Mac cranked up the Mariners game, but she couldn’t have stated the score if her life depended on it. Bruiser didn’t speak again, seeming to be lost in his own thoughts, and thanks to her big mouth, they didn’t appear to be pleasant ones.
Time ground to a turtle’s pace as they made the short trip to the Simms family’s Lake Washington home. Bruiser maneuvered his ’Vette around dozens of parked cars along the long driveway and pulled up to the grand front entry, tossed his keys to a valet, and strode around the car to the passenger door. Mac waited patiently while he swept the door open, not because she was trying to be a lady but because she didn’t dare walk without clinging to his arm. He held out his hand, and she took it. The heat from his large, warm palm rocketed through her body like a missile finding its mark and detonating, engulfing everything in its path, including her heart and her common sense as she shuddered in reaction.
“Cold?” He angled his head at her, looking damned irresistible from the cleft in his chin to the way a lock of golden hair fell across his forehead. His expression softened and his mouth tipped up at the corners in one of his signature smiles.
“Just caught a cool breeze for a second,” she lied.
He looked skeptical but said nothing. After all, it was at least eighty degrees. Instead, he tucked her hand in his forearm and led her to the huge front porch, which looked like it should be the entrance to a five-star hotel, not a single-family dwelling. Mac took a moment to appreciate the landscaping and rare plants flanking the entry. The place was a regular arboretum. The