Down by Contact - A Seattle Lumberjacks Romance (7 page)

“Not a chance in hell.” He’d be damned if
he’d kiss her hand or any part of her anatomy, no matter how
tempting that anatomy might be and always had been.

Frowning, she lowered her hand and sighed as
if he might just be the worst thing that ever happened to her.
Well, the feeling was mutual. With an elegant gesture, she pointed
toward the chair across the table. “Be seated please.”

He lowered his big body onto the small chair
and regarded her warily. Harris had set him up. Zach knew he had.
The rat bastard would die for this. He’d wring the prick’s neck and
throw his remains to the dogfish in Puget Sound. But first he had
to get through this etiquette lesson.

Sprawling in the chair, hands crossed over
his chest, he glared at her. She didn’t even blink. Those deep blue
eyes of hers drilled into his with a determination he couldn’t help
but admire. But then, she’d always been strong-willed.

“Sit up straight. A gentleman doesn’t
slouch.”

“Why the hell not?”

“It’s bad manners. I realize you wrote the
book on reprehensible manners, but let’s see if we can remedy that,
tough a job as it might be.”

“Since when is it bad manners?” He didn’t
get it. He hated rules for rules’ sake, especially when they didn’t
make a lick of sense.

“It shows disinterest and a lack of respect
for the other person in the room.”

Zach raised one eyebrow in answer. Her eyes
widened and her sigh said it all. Yes, he was an ill-mannered
moron. An ill-mannered moron who couldn’t take his eyes off her
plump lower lip. He swallowed and ran a hand through his hair.

“Zach.” Kelsie’s mask of confident
superiority vanished, replaced by uncertainty and sadness. Clearing
her throat, she met his gaze, and he fought to breathe. “Before we
get started, I owe you an apology. One long past due.”

He didn’t say a word and hardened his
expression. He wouldn’t make this easy for her.

“I was horrible to you in high school. For
what it’s worth, I didn’t enjoy being cruel, but I was swept along
by peer pressure, but I’m not that person anymore. I am sorry.
Really sorry that I hurt you.”

“What makes you think you hurt me?” He
glared at her, refusing to let the surprise show in his eyes.

She blinked, once, twice. “Didn’t I?”

Zach looked away. Hurt didn’t begin to
describe what she’d done to him, try ripped him to shreds,
shattered his ego, and laid waste to his self-worth for starters.
“Apologies are just words. If you want my forgiveness, I’ll have to
see something concrete.”

“In other words, I’ll need to prove it to
you.”

“Yeah.”

She looked down at her book. “Fine.”

Zach hated it when a woman used the word
fine
. It meant anything but fine. In fact, it usually meant
the targeted male had done an unfathomable thing to piss off the
female. “Let’s get back to the reason I’m forced to be here.”

Blowing out an exasperated breath, she
picked up the book and turned all business again. “I’m giving you a
homework assignment. You’re to read Chapter 1 in this book. We’ll
discuss it when we meet again next Tuesday evening.” She pushed the
book across the table to him.

“Are you kidding?” He didn’t bother to
glance at it.

“I take courtesy seriously, unlike another
person I won’t name.” She raised her head and gave him that haughty
look he used to hate with a passion.

“Go ahead and name him, won’t hurt my
feelings.”

“The man in question should be quite aware
of his shortcomings in this area.” She pinched the bridge of her
nose as if he was giving her a headache. He added one point to his
mental scoreboard.

“The man doesn’t give a shit.”

Her eyes narrowed. He’d pissed her off.
“It’s obvious why they hired me. You have the graciousness of a
blind rattler.”

“Better a blind rattler than a stuffy,
spoiled bi—uh, brat.” Zach did have a few rules he lived by. He
never called a lady a bitch, even if said lady deserved the
title.

She shot to her feet, her blue eyes blazing
like six-guns in the hands of a Wild West outlaw. “Why,
you—you—”

“Now, now, sugar, watch your manners.” He
shook a finger in her face, but abruptly pulled it back when Kelsie
looked ready to gut him and mount his head over her mantle.

Taking a visible, deep breath, she sat back
down. She clasped her hands in front of her on the table. “We need
to set up an appropriate time for me to peruse your house to see
what we’ll need to do in preparation for the gala.”

He rolled his eyes. “My house looks just
fine.”

Kelsie looked him up and down and raised one
perfectly plucked eyebrow. The eyebrow said it all. With that one
eyebrow she’d reduced him to an awkward high school kid without a
penny to his name wearing an outdated suit that didn’t fit.

“Okay, fine. We can meet on Monday evening
at 7:00 p.m.” He scribbled his address on the title page in the
book, ripped it out, and gave it to her.

Her eyes grew big as she took the page from
his hand.

“What’s wrong? It’s just the title
page.”

Kelsie shook her head and sighed. He’d
screwed up again, but he didn’t see what the big deal was. “Fine,
I’ll get you another book.”

“You don’t get it, do you? This book is a
cherished possession, more than just a book. Regardless of an
article’s material value, you need to show respect for other
people’s property.”

Zach stared at a point on the wall over her
head. He felt like an idiot, but he’d be damned if he’d tell her
that. “This isn’t going to work out.”

A fleeting moment of panic crossed her face
before cool, superior Kelsie took over. “It’ll work out fine. I
love challenges.”

Then it hit him harder than a block by a
three-hundred-pound tackle. Waitressing at a banquet. The piece of
shit car with all the stuff piled in it. The desperation he’d seen
in her eyes at the charity ball. This bullshit career of hers.
Kelsie was down on her luck. Maybe even flat broke.

She needed this job. Because of that, she
needed
him
.

The thought brought a smile to his face.
Payback is a bitch. For the first time, he sensed he had the upper
hand with her, and he’d use every bit of power he had to make this
mean girl do restitution for all the nasty, bitchy things she’d
done to him in high school.

She’d work for every penny the Jacks paid
her. He didn’t want to attend manners class. He didn’t give a
flying seagull’s ass about Veronica Simms’s demands. They’d forced
him to attend against his will, and he planned on giving Kelsie as
much hell as she’d given him as a high school kid with his first
crush. Not that he’d be mean about it, not like she had been and
most likely still was. Nope, he’d prove he had more class that she
ever did, but he wouldn’t cooperate with her stupid demands,
starting with homework assignments.

Their gazes met and held. His breath caught
in his throat. His heart flopped over, despite his brave stance.
She still had the power to make him grovel for a smidgeon of her
affection, but she’d never know it. Never.

Despite how much she’d done to him, how much
she’d hurt him, she still got to him in ways no other woman ever
had.

CHAPTER 5

The next morning, Coach Jackson summoned
Kelsie to the Lumberjacks’ headquarters. She sat in the reception
area, hands folded in her lap, knees pressed together, and wearing
that one good suit. Eventually, she’d need to get it dry-cleaned,
but for now she’d make do. At least, she had a closet to hang it
in.

Kelsie had confined her blond hair to a
sleek ponytail and added a small amount of makeup to her face,
conserving the expensive cosmetics the best she could. Despite her
attempts at frugality—a skill she’d never needed in the past—her
money was depleting at an alarming rate.

Kelsie sat board straight, a habit honed
from years of pageant training courtesy of her impossible-to-please
mother. Once, as a seven-year-old, she’d been exhausted after hours
of being “on” at a child beauty pageant. Her face ached from
smiling. Her feet screamed to be released from their too small
patent-leather shoes—ladies didn’t have big feet—and her heavy
makeup itched. She stood in line while the judges interviewed five
finalists. When they finished with her and moved onto her rival
Candace Johnson, Kelsie released a breath and every muscle in her
body went limp. Her shoulders slumped, and she cocked one hip.
Afterward her mother was so furious, she blamed Kelsie’s loss to
Candace on Kelsie’s sloppy stance. When they got home, Carmen
Carrington had forced her daughter to stand at attention in a
corner for an hour without dinner. Kelsie never forgot that
lesson.

Tyler Harris sauntered by and did a double
take. Turning back, he dropped into the chair next to her and
stretched his long legs out in front of him. His trademark killer
grin softened the hard lines of his handsome face. “How’s it going
with our wolf-boy?”

“Pardon?” Even as she played dumb, the
hackles rose on the back of her neck like a lioness defending her
cub, not that Zach looked like a cub, more like a lion, all
deceptively laid-back until he struck with lightning fast speed and
intensity.

“Murphy. How’s he doing? Are you making any
progress with the social moron?”

“I don’t discuss my clients.” Her cold glare
usually set most men back on their heels but not the brash,
over-confident quarterback. Nothing seemed to faze him.

“That bad?” Tyler sat back and propped his
feet on the coffee table.

“No, that good.” She looked straight
ahead.

He chuckled and smiled, a genuine smile,
which momentarily allowed the nice guy buried deep under all the
egotistical posturing to emerge. “You’re one gutsy lady to take him
on.”

“Who’s gutsy?” Zach stalked over to where
they sat, dressed in a ratty pair of workout sweats, a towel draped
around his neck. His wrinkled clothes, stubbled face, and shaggy
hair presented a stark contrast to Tyler’s expensive sweats and
cleanly shaven face.

Tyler Harris might be a gorgeous specimen,
but Zach was oh-so-hot, so male, so sexy. The testosterone poured
off him in waves and alerted every female cell in Kelsie’s body to
his presence, as if her eyes alone hadn’t already done the job. She
fanned her face. Too young for hot flashes, it didn’t take a Rhodes
scholar to figure out what started the wildfire burning across her
cheeks.

“Kelsie’s gutsy for taking on a jerk like
you, Murphy.”

“Better than a prick like you.” Zach dropped
into the chair next to Kelsie and ran a hand through his unruly
hair, as if a finger combing could tame that rat’s nest. Kelsie
made a mental note to find him a decent stylist.

Tyler stood, typical alpha male using his
height to intimidate. Zach didn’t blink. Instead he held a hand up
to his mouth and yawned.

Kelsie leaned close to whisper in Zach’s
ear. His clean male scent seduced her with a naked Zach fantasy.
For a moment she forgot what she was going to say. The odd look on
Tyler’s face snapped her out of it. “Zach, now’s a good time to
practice what you’ve learned in class on Mr. Harris.” She stabbed
him with her best don’t-screw-this-up glare.

Zach stared straight ahead, his chin jutting
out in stubborn defiance.

“Zach.” Kelsie threatened a warning in her
tone. The two
men
—and she used the term lightly—squared off
like bullies on a playfield.

Zach glowered at her for a short moment. He
stood up to face Harris and visibly composed himself. “Mr. Harris,
so nice to see you today. I’m looking forward to our first home
game on Sunday. I believe we’ll have a stupendous time kicking some
major ass.”

Tyler threw back his head and laughed so
hard the sound rang off the walls and tears filled his eyes.

Zach shrugged, seemingly unaffected by
Tyler’s laughter. He walked across the seating area to one of two
championship trophies on display and touched the glass encasing the
gleaming silver football like a worshipper touching the face of his
idol.

Wiping at his eyes, Tyler shook his head at
Kelsie. “Sure you don’t want to cut and run now while you can?”

“No, we’re making progress quite nicely.”
Like hell they were. She’d have better luck with a child raised in
the wilderness from birth. At least he’d be a blank slate.

“Well, good luck, honey, you’re going to
need it.” Tyler sauntered off, still chuckling.

Zach swung back around, apparently not as
unaffected as he’d first appeared. He stared after Tyler, murder in
his eyes. “That fu—frigging asshole. I’m going to—”

“Kelsie, Coach will see you now.” A short,
stocky man interrupted, much to Kelsie’s relief. Sucking in a
calming breath and letting it out, she stood and left Zach without
another word.

Kelsie entered the coach’s office and sat.
Tastefully framed pictures of players adorned the walls along with
some Coach of the Year awards. Autographed game balls sat on the
cherry bookcase. The huge desk and leather furniture spoke of a
man’s domain, a man accustomed to wielding a certain amount of
power in his world.

Kelsie approved of the effect and mentally
applauded the coach’s interior designer.

Coach Jackson stood and shook her hand.
“Kelsie, I only have a few minutes, got to get to practice. So,
what’s your initial assessment of our boy?”

The coach didn’t sit down, so Kelsie
remained standing. The man picked up a paperweight and tossed it
back and forth in his hands. He radiated nervous energy like a
pacing tiger in a cage. “Mr. Murphy is a trial, but I’m up to the
task.”

The coach stood still for a split second. “I
hope you are. Ownership is adamant about this. In fact, if he
doesn’t cooperate, they want him benched or traded.”