Draw Play - Jami Davenport Page 0,5

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 damn date.”

“Make sure you do.”

Mac groaned at the thought of what Jed would do if left to his own devices. She’d definitely dig up a date.

Somewhere.

* * * * *

A few hours later, Mac lined up a shot and dropped the eight ball into the corner pocket. With a long-suffering sigh, Derek Ramsey, the Steelheads’ all-pro wide receiver, shuffled back to his seat, ignoring the jeers of his teammates. Mac pumped her fist in the air, then swept her gaze around the room, seeking out her next victim. Not one of the chickenshits would even establish eye contact with her. Cowards, every last one of them.

Sprawled around a long table sat a dozen or so Seattle Steelheads who lived in Seattle year-round. They met almost every Monday night for beer and pool at O’Malley’s Sports Bar a few miles from the Steelheads’ practice facility. Mac had been coming here with the team for the past three years. Sometimes the group dwindled to a few guys. Other times, during football season, the rowdy bunch took over the back room and watched Monday Night Football together for some raucous good times with Mac in the thick of it all.

She’d always been more comfortable with men than women. Hell, all her best friends growing up had been men. She’d never cultivated actual girlfriends or traded makeup secrets or talked about hot guys. Lately, she wished she had, because she was absolutely clueless about girl stuff. Sometimes even a tomboy wanted to be seen as a woman.

And why was she thinking this now?

This weird preoccupation lately with getting more girly better not have anything to do with seeing Bruiser bare-ass naked with all his equipment on display. Her gaze flicked to the object of her after-dark bedroom fantasies. And, man, she’d had some hot ones. Bruiser leaned forward, a heart-stopping smile on his face, laughter in