Down by Contact - A Seattle Lumberjacks Romance (15 page)

Oh, God, thank you for this gift from
heaven.

He sank to his knees next to the tub. She
met him halfway. Her warm, plump lips welcomed his. The next thing
he knew, she thrust her tongue into his mouth, taking the lead. He
let her have it. Gladly. She sucked his tongue into her mouth,
circled it with her own tongue, breathed life into him like no
woman ever had. Her soapy breasts rubbed against his hairy chest. A
groan was ripped from his throat, as she kissed him with reckless
enthusiasm.

Out of breath, she pulled back, a smile on
her face, and a wicked twinkle in those blue eyes. “There’s room
for two in here.”

“Oh, yeah.” He grinned and started to get
into the tub. She splayed a hand across his chest to halt him.

“Condom?”

“Oh. Yeah. Condom.” She wanted him to get a
condom? That meant they were doing it. Really doing it. He
scrambled to his feet and ripped open drawers in the bathroom
vanity. Stuff went flying as he frantically look for a condom. Oh,
crap. Where the hell was one? It wasn’t like he brought women here
or even had women during the season.

Damn. Damn. Damn.

Faster than he hustled onto a football
field, he hustled into the bedroom and rummaged through drawers,
desperate to find one condom. Nothing. He ran down the stairs,
taking them three at a time, out to his truck. Checked the glove
box. There had to be a condom somewhere.

Only there wasn’t. Not one. Not a damn
one.

His dick shriveled in disappointment.

He trudged back upstairs, back to the
bathroom. Kelsie was out of the tub and in his bathrobe, staring at
him with shuttered eyes. He’d taken too long. His shoulders
slumped, and he leaned against the door jamb, attempting to look
casual.

“I thought you’d changed your mind.” She
shot him a tentative smile as she pulled on a pair of very small
panties. Her gaze flicked to his dick, and it immediately rose to
attention.

“I couldn’t find a damn condom.” Frustration
seeped into his voice, he couldn’t help it.

She shrugged and stared at the floor. “Call
it divine intervention. So not a good idea. You and me, that
is.”

Hell, he’d known that, but he hadn’t cared
when he’d seen her masturbating in his tub. The blood returned to
his brain as it escaped his penis, like troops retreating from a
losing battle.

Without a word, he quickly pulled on his
clothes and left the house for the second time this morning, before
they both changed their minds and decided to go with unprotected
sex.

Someone up there was looking out for
him.

Damn it.

CHAPTER 10

A few nights later, Zach cradled the urn he’d
carried around with him for sixteen years. He ran a hand across his
eyes to wipe off a combination of rain and tears. He swallowed
around the big lump in his throat, then he carefully placed his
baby brother’s ashes in the small hole he’d dug in his
backyard.

Wade, his younger brother by two years,
stood next to him and hiccupped, drawing his sleeve across his
face. Zach bowed his head and slid a glance at Wade. His brother’s
brows scrunched together then he bent his own dark head.

Clasping his hands in front of him, Zach
pushed the words past the boulder-sized lump in his throat. “I
don’t know if you’re really out there, God, but I hope you are. I
hope life doesn’t end after we die because our little brother
deserves a better life than the short one he got on earth.”

“Amen.” Wade’s voice cracked from the pain
of their shared loss.

“Amen.” Zach raised his head and picked up
the shovel. Grief shot sharp arrows of agony through his heart. He
tossed the first shovel full of dirt into the hole. Wade took the
shovel from him and followed his lead. The only sound was the thud,
thud, thud of the dirt landing in the hole and the patter of
raindrops on the ground.

Dropping the shovel, Zach raised his face to
the skies. Big drops of rain pelted his forehead, ran down his
cheeks, into his eyes, plastering his hair to his head. He didn’t
care. Not one bit. Neither did Wade. Their clothes stuck to them
like they’d fallen overboard on stormy seas. In some ways they
had.

Zach picked up a cool marble slab the size
of a coffee-table book. Kneeling down, he placed it on top of the
exposed earth. He ran a finger over the indentations on the marble,
squinting in the light of dusk to read aloud the words he’d
committed to heart.

Gary Joseph Murphy

Beloved brother and best friend

Finally home at last

Rest in peace

Looking skyward again, the rain mixed with
his tears. “I promised you a big Victorian home with a view one
day, little brother. I hope you like it.” His last couple of words
hung in the air with no other sound than the patter of a steady
rainfall.

Finally, Wade cleared his throat. “He loves
it.” His brother pushed at loose dirt with his toe and shoved his
hands in the pockets of his raincoat.

The rain stopped as if the hand of God moved
across the skies. A few rays of the setting sun poked through the
clouds, spreading diamonds of light across the waters of Puget
Sound below. A ferry chugged toward Elliot Bay, delivering
residents to downtown Seattle. Large fir trees stood on guard
around the yard as a slight breeze rustled their limbs. The stately
old mansion embraced them like a grandmother welcoming her
grandchild home from war.

It was the type of view he and Gary dreamed
of having one day.

Zach’s mind transported him back to the
trailers he’d lived in, the cars, the back alleys. His family never
lived anywhere more than a few months before their dad started
drinking again and lost whatever current job he’d managed to
finagle. Then they’d be booted out on their asses and sent on their
way. Each place was worse than the one before it or not a place at
all but a car or a tent.

Until that night.

That fateful night exactly seventeen years
to the day was burned into Zach’s memory like a wildfire ravaging
the landscape of the forest, leaving ugly black scars. Wade and
Zach were big enough their father couldn’t overpower them anymore.
Not so Gary, who’d always been more sickly and slight then his
older brothers, and they’d become his protector.

That weekend their father had been
languishing in jail again. Zach didn’t even remember for what.
Their mother was having an affair with a bottle and had passed out
on the living room couch. Life as normal in the Murphy household.
Wade slipped out for a hot date.

Despite the possibility that the asshole who
fathered them could be released at any time, Zach couldn’t resist
attending a local beauty pageant to lust over the unattainable
Kelsie. She’d actually mentioned the pageant to him that morning in
biology class, which was as good as an invitation in Zach’s book.
He’d snuck into the back row of the auditorium, clutching pink
grocery-store roses in his big hand.

Kelsie had strutted her stuff in a skimpy
evening gown, while he’d fantasized about touching her creamy skin
and kissing those plump, pink lips. Afterward, he’d paced back and
forth at the backstage door, rehearsing his words, and working
himself into a lather.

Kelsie waltzed out the door on the arm of
Mark Richmond, the team’s star quarterback. She glanced Zach’s way.
Her blue eyes flicked to the flowers in his hand, and so did her
date’s.

“Give it up, Murphy. She’s too good for
you.” Richmond laughed and ushered Kelsie toward his car. She
glanced over her shoulder, her expression full of pity, shame, or
disgust. He’d never been sure which.

Defeated, Zach walked the three miles home,
head down, tail between his legs. A block from his house, flashing
lights had illuminated the usually dreary neighborhood. A crowd
gathered on the pot-hole filled street to gape at the house with
yellow, crime scene tape wrapped around it.

The very shack his dysfunctional family
called home.

Wade stood alone near the crime scene tape.
When he caught sight of his big brother, he threw his arms around
Zach and sobbed a few coherent words. “He did it.”

“Did what?” Even then he knew the worst had
happened.

“Shot Mom and beat Gary with a baseball bat.
They don’t think Gary will make it through the night.” The anguish
in Wade’s voice almost destroyed Zach, but he had to be strong for
Wade and Gary.

The Cactus Prairie police had already hauled
their father off to jail. Zach swore if he ever set eyes on that
man again, he’d kill him. At fifteen Wade got sent to a
great-aunt’s in Ontario. Zach’s coach took him in, not out of any
burning desire to help him, but because his senior year of football
was underway and the team needed him.

Gary hung on surrounded by tubes and
machines. Zach spent every spare second holding vigil over his
brother’s hospital bed.

Zach turned away from the view of Pudget
Sound and glanced up at the bathroom window, recalling Kelsie’s
soapy wet skin in his bathtub. She’d been his weakness then, and
she still was. Several months later Gary succumbed to his injuries.
That very night Zach went to the country club dance still reeling
from Gary’s death hours earlier and hoping a night with Kelsie
would help ease his pain. It hadn’t. She’d ripped his heart out
that night in more ways than one. He’d never forgiven her. How did
a person forgive that depth of cruelty?

Some of the most traumatic events in his
teenage life were linked to Kelsie, as if she were his bad luck
charm or something.

Damn, he’d almost slept with her a few
mornings ago. He’d known from the moment he’d first spotted her in
his freshman home room class that if he ever did it with her,
there’d be no turning back. His heart would be lost to her
forever.

All these years later, that bald fact still
echoed the raw truth. He could not sleep with Kelsie. He’d never
recover. She’d use him and leave him and his irreparably broken
heart in her wake as she jetted off after a better catch.

Kelsie had to be down on her luck, living in
some dump that she didn’t want to go home to at night. Why else was
she in his bathtub? Why did she avoid telling him where she lived?
Maybe she was living in a homeless shelter. Zach shook his head,
finding it hard to believe her life had sunk that low. Not Kelsie.
She’d find some way to manipulate some poor fool into parting with
his money just for pleasure of gazing on her beauty every day.

Some poor fool like him.

“Hey,” Wade spoke softly.

Zach gave a guilt start and blinked rapidly.
He’d forgotten his brother was even there. “I have to be getting
back to the airport. I’ve got a game tomorrow.” Wade played damn
good hockey on an NHL team that was currently a Stanley Cup
contender.

“I’ll drive you.”

“Nah, don’t worry about it. I’ll get a
taxi.”

“You sure?”

“Positive.” To prove his point, Wade used
his fancy smartphone to call for a ride. Sticking it back in his
pocket, he turned to Zach. “How about a quick beer before I
go?”

“Yeah, sure.” They walked inside. Zach
snagged a couple brews from the fridge, popped the tops, and handed
one to his brother, the only person left on this earth that he
cared about other than his teammates.

Wade’s eagle eyes dissected him like they’d
dissect an opposing team’s goalie. “How’s everything going?”

“We’re two and two, but we’ll get it
together. Lots of young players on this team.”

“You and I’ve been stuck on some shitty
teams over the years.” Wade held up his bottle. “Here’s to winning
the Cup and a ring before we retire.”

Zach clinked his bottle against his
brother’s. “We will.”

“Yeah, we will. I hear rumors Seattle might
be getting an NHL team.”

“Sounds like it.”

“Who knows? Maybe I’ll end up here.” A car
horn honked from the front of the house. “That’s my ride, Zach.
Take care, okay.” He held his hand out to Zach. In a rare display
of affection, Zach pulled Wade into a bear hug. Being men’s men,
they didn’t linger.

“Have a safe trip.”

“I will.”

Zach followed him to the front porch and
watched the taxi drive away. Just like that, Wade walked back to
his own life and left Zach alone with his memories and his
guilt.

A few roses grew on the once wild but now
trimmed bush near the walkway. Hell, he hadn’t even realized he had
roses until the team descended upon his yard. Stepping off the
porch, Zach tore a deep orange rose from its stem, ignoring the
thorns biting into his fingers. Roses reminded him of Kelsie,
beautiful but with the ability to inflict pain.

Zach squatted next to his brother’s final
resting place. He laid the rose on top of the marble. Gary liked
orange. Orange and blue had been his junior high team’s colors.
He’d strutted around in his jersey on Zach and Wade’s game days,
proud as their pit bull after he’d chased off the neighbor’s
cat—the same pit bull his father shot in the head while the kids
watched because the animal dug in the backyard. Like anyone noticed
with all the weeds and garbage. Bottom line: Zach knew the old man
did the dog in because the kids loved their pet.

Gary had to be in a better place, smiling
down on him right now from his seat on a fluffy cloud surrounded by
junk food. Gary had loved junk food, the greasier the better.
Surely in heaven, a guy didn’t need to worry about clogging his
arteries, if angels even had arteries.

Zach buried his head in his hands as a sob
welled up in his throat. He didn’t fight it. The tears he’d never
shed all those years ago slipped down his cheeks. No one would see
him. Harris might love to probe for weaknesses, but the guy had
better things to do than hide in the bushes waiting to revoke
Zach’s man card.

He couldn’t even work up the energy to give
a shit about Harris right now. The harsh reality of things put a
jerk like that in perspective. Zach would tolerate an entire team
of Harrises just to see his little brother’s smile one last
time.