The Best Part of Me (17 page)

He hadn't said a word since walking through the door, but just one look from him was enough to get her blood flowing. She was also starting to realize that his reaction to her was just as strong. Quinn could read his thoughts, and they all ended with them in her bedroom with no one to disturb them. As much as she would love that, their physical activities the last two nights had made her sore. She could use a little recuperation time. So before he'd kicked his lusty plans into action, she'd smiled sweetly at him and asked if he would help her pick up some extra flagstone for her aunt's walkway.

The skies had cleared for the most part, and it was a mild day with very little wind. She locked the front door before following Ewan to his truck parked in the middle of the driveway.

“Can we stop by the grocery store on the way home so I can pick up a few things?”

He grinned over at her across the cab of the truck as he buckled himself in. “All these favors I'm doing are gonna add up, you know. I'll be looking for some reciprocity.”

She smiled, leaned across the seat, and kissed him on the cheek. “There. How's that?”

“Not nearly enough.” He shook his head.

“I suppose you have something in mind?”

“I do.” He put the truck in reverse and looked through the back window as he backed toward the road.

“And?”

“And I'll let you know when it's time to collect.” He raised his eyebrows, which made her laugh. Who knew he could be so playful?

Pulling away from the drive, they noticed Rory's red Mazda coming toward them with its lights flashing, his hand waving at them frantically out the window. Ewan rolled down his window, and Rory was talking before his car came to a halt next to theirs.

“…so glad I caught you! I just stopped by the pub, but you weren't there,” Rory yelled up at the truck. “We're heading to Scalley's Field. Are you up for a match?”

“Now?” Ewan asked.

“Yeah.”

Ewan looked over at Quinn and, with an apologetic shrug, looked back at Rory and nodded. Her cousin let out an excited yell as he sped off in the opposite direction of where they were supposed to be going.

“I take it we're not heading to the garden center?” Quinn asked as Ewan rolled up the window.

“I'm collecting on my favor,” he said, backing into Maura's drive and then slamming the accelerator to follow behind Rory. “There's a rugby match at Scalley's Field. Rugby trumps garden center.” The exaggerated seriousness on his face made her laugh.

“You can't collect on favors you haven't given me yet,” she teased.

“Okay, consider this a favor to me and I'll owe you.”

She thought about that for a second and said, “Fine. I want you to take me hiking in Blue Hills Reservation.” She loved working outside in the yard all day, but she missed hiking and stretching her legs. It was something she looked forward to doing every summer at Cook Forest State Park near Pittsburgh. She'd heard that the Blue Hills Reservation had a lot of great trails.

He gave her a sidelong look before shaking his head. “How about I just help you with the sidewalk?”

“It's my favor and I want to go hiking.”

“The last time I went hiking in the Blue Hills, I was fourteen and swore I'd never do it again. It's a bloody trek up a mountain and down the other side.”

“It's not a mountain! It's merely a hill. Can't you make an exception for me?”

He looked over and she pushed her lower lip out to pout. Before she got a verbal confirmation from him though, he took a sharp turn to the left, and they were flying down a dirt path with high hedges on both sides. The path opened up into a large, flat field, where a group of people were gathered. Ewan parked the truck and they both slid out.

There were about twenty or so guys down on the field, all laughing and carrying on as Ewan and Quinn approached. Quinn saw Erin over on the sideline and waved.

“Why don't you go sit with Erin?” Ewan suggested.

“Why? I want to play.”

He looked at her like she'd lost her mind. “You can't play. You know nothing about rugby.”

“I'm a fast learner,” she replied, feeling slightly offended.

“Quinn.” He stopped to face her. “It's a contact sport. This isn't just a friendly football match. Why don't you go watch on the sidelines with Erin?”

“Are you saying I can't play because I'm a girl?”

“No, damn it. I'm saying you can't play because you'll get hurt.” His eyes had turned defiantly hard, and his voice stayed even in what Quinn recognized now as his calm before the storm.

“I'm not afraid of getting knocked around.”

He inhaled deeply, and she saw the first signs of resignation cross his face.

“I'm not particularly happy about you getting knocked around, kicked, scratched, groped, or tackled. Two weeks ago, one of the guys left here with a broken arm.” He watched her, hoping his words would sink in. When her expression didn't change, he shook his head.

“Why are you so goddamn stubborn?” he muttered.

“I'm not—”

“Yes, you are.” He pulled her alongside him toward the rest of the players. “And that was a rhetorical question.”

They stopped beside the rest of the group and he pushed her toward Rory. “Rory, Quinn's on your team. Put her in as fullback and don't let her off that goal line.”

Ewan had just tossed her off his team.

“Why can't I play on your team?” she asked, not bothering to hide her surprise.

He bent and spoke softly into her ear, “Because if anyone is gonna knock you around, grope you, and tackle you, it's gonna be me.”

Quinn gave a small shriek when Ewan swatted her hard on the behind. She glared at him as he slowly backed away, smirking like the devil he was. His lack of confidence in her ability to pick up the game was infuriating. But luckily for her, she always did a little better when a fire was lit under her. And right now, she was burning up. She shook her head slowly, hoping to send him the message that he was in serious trouble.

Rory patted her on the shoulder. “You'll show him.”

She planned on it.

Rory gathered their team and handed out positions. It fell to Tommie to explain to her what she was supposed to do.

“Here's the summarized version,” Tommie began when Quinn caught up to him as they walked to the end of the field. “The ball gets passed backward. You can't pass it forward, okay?”

Backward? How the hell could you score if you could only pass the ball backward?

“The big, strong guys are called forwards.” He pointed to the group of men that Ewan stood among. “They block the other team's forwards so that the ball can get passed back to us. We're called backs and it's our job to advance the ball. Each time we throw the ball to the next guy, he always has to be a step behind.”

He used his hands to draw a diagonal line to indicate the advancement of the backs and how, even though the ball was passed slightly backwards each time, it could make its way down to the other end. So far, she understood. It sounded similar to American football, except for the whole backwards-passing rule.

“Mind you, the other team wants that ball. They'll tackle you if you have it. So the object is to get through without getting tackled, and when it's a certainty of getting tackled, that's when you pass it.”

Quinn nodded, eager to get her hands on the ball and run it right down Ewan's throat.

“If we cross the goal line and ground the ball, that's called a try. It's worth five points. Then we get a conversion kick that's worth two points.”

Throw the ball backward and cross the goal line. Easy enough.

“You're the fullback. You are always the farthest member of our team from the ball. You're our last defense against the other team scoring.” He watched as Quinn listened attentively. “You understand?”

“Yes, more or less.” Quinn nodded toward Ewan, who was surrounded by the forwards. “What does Ewan do?”

“Ewan's their number eight. He's strong and fast, so he's gonna get the ball out from underneath the scrum and pitch it to his backs. Joe's our number eight.” Tommie was referring to Joe Calvin, the stout police officer whom she'd met at Katie's a couple weeks ago.

“Got it,” she said, watching the other players stretch out their arms and legs.

“Oh, one last thing. If you get tackled, you have to drop the ball. Then just lie there until it's safe to get up. The forwards will crowd over top of you and try to push the defense backwards so our guys can pick up the ball again. I suggest covering up your head while you're down,” he said with a grin.

Before Tommie had a chance to explain more, the whistle blew, and there were grunts and shouts coming from the woven mass of men pushing against each other in the middle of the field. The backs took their positions in the diagonal line that Tommie had described, and she stood ready as her team's last line of defense.

Twenty minutes later, she still stood there, guarding the other team's try zone, and she wasn't any closer to the action. Just when the other team looked like they might make a move toward her, her team would intercept the ball. It was the most boring game she'd ever played. She tried creeping up the field, but Tommie shooed her back toward the goal line.

She was itching to get the ball. She watched helplessly as the giant wrestling match in the middle of the field would collapse; the ball would be spit out the other side and passed back to the nearest player. It was complete chaos, and not two seconds would pass before the ball carrier was brought down to the ground and the giant wrestling match would start all over again.

Ewan, for the most part, seemed to be the guy doing all the tackling for the other team. The massive forwards, their necks the size of her thighs, would converge to push against one another. Before her untrained eye could find the ball, it was being handed off to Rory or Ian and heading for the sidelines. Miraculously, Ewan would be detangled from the scrum and pouncing on the ball carrier in the next moment.

Despite the fact that she wanted to kick his ass, he was quite impressive to watch. He was everywhere at once. His long, strong legs carried him quickly from one side of the field to the other. The taut muscles of his upper torso pulled and stretched his thin white shirt that was now smeared with dirt and sweat. His face was flushed but set in concentration, as she watched him tackle Joe Calvin around the waist and take him to the ground. Joe landed with a loud grunt on his back as all the wind was knocked from his lungs. The ball flew from his arms and tumbled end over end across the ground.

Right toward Quinn.

She forgot everything that Tommie had told her earlier. Instinct and years of watching football took over. Impulse made her bend forward and scoop up the ball, and the pure thrill of competition forced her legs to start moving. She tucked the ball into the cradle of her arm, as every football player who'd ever played the game had been instructed to do.

Quinn darted toward the sidelines as fast as her legs could carry her. She passed a large mound of men still trying to fight their way free to give chase. Once she rounded them, there was open field in front of her, but she knew that wouldn't be the case for long. She heard cheers from her teammates behind her, urging her to put her head down and run.

She was just over halfway down the field when she heard hard steps and heavy breathing coming from over her left shoulder. Three strides later, she felt a strong arm circle her waist and pull her from her run. Before the other arm was able to completely surround her, she planted her right foot and spun back toward the sidelines in a move she'd watched running back Jerome Bettis perfect throughout his pro football career.

The spin move worked, and she was free of the opponent's arm and trying to pick up speed again. But her relief was short-lived because the short pause had given the rest of her opponents time to catch up. A hard body slammed into her from the side, and Quinn was knocked to the ground with a painful thud. That hard body now lay on top of her, and she couldn't do anything but curl into the fetal position and wait for the ever-increasing pile of men to move.

She heard her teammates shouting and pushing the opponents away from her. Angry hands pulled on her arms while other hands grabbed at her legs. A painful kick landed to the back of her thigh, while someone stepped on her foot. All the while, the pressure from whoever was on top of her was increasing to the point where she was struggling to breathe.

Finally, she heard the faint sound of a whistle and prayed that someone would find her soon before she blacked out. Little by little, the weight above her reduced.

“Get off!” she heard through her hands, which were covering her ears.

Finally, the last of the weight was pulled away, and she felt strong hands close around her upper arm.

“Jesus, are you hurt?”

Quinn peeked through one eye and saw Ewan's worried face above her. His eyes were doing an inspection of her injuries, which, as far as she knew, were none. Releasing her head, she sat up, and the rugby ball rolled from where it was cradled against her stomach.

Whoops.

Ewan was shaking his head angrily. “You were supposed to let go of the goddamn ball. You could have been hurt.” Before she could snap back and tell him she'd meant to but forgot, Ewan clasped her hands and pulled her quickly to her feet. He spun her around and noticed a cut on the back of her calf.

“It's nothing. I'm fine,” she assured him.

She could see the twitch of a muscle in the side of his jaw working as if he wanted to scold her severely. He inhaled slowly, appearing to count to ten in his head.

“You need to let go of the ball if you get tackled.”

He was trying to speak calmly to her as the other players were reconvening in the middle of the field away from where they stood near the sidelines. Quinn was touched that he was keeping his temper, because knowing Ewan, he wanted to give her a tongue-lashing that would blister her ears.