The Shadow of Mudflap (A Foxtrot Team Novel #1) (9 page)

Lisa watched the guys with renewed interest. “You really think so?”

“It can’t hurt anything. He’s fun and sexy as all get out. If nothing else, you’ll have a hot night out on the town.”

“Hmm, maybe…”

Well, she’d done what she could for her job playing Cupid for the day. She crossed her fingers. They’d make a really cute couple.

By the time they were on the 6
hole, they were back to their original golfing partners and Derek finally seemed to be loosening up a bit with Lisa. It helped that Mudflap was constantly razzing him with quips like, “I think your shaft may be bent,” and “You just can’t get it in the hole.”

By the time they’d rounded to the back nine, all of them were having too much fun coming up with bad golfing puns and both couples were spending more time with hands-on adjustments to their grips, among other things.

Every time Mudflap touched her, a quiver surged through her veins. Who knew golf was such a touchy-feely game? Shanae approved, although she was beginning to wonder if they’d finish out all eighteen holes before she dragged him behind a tree and ripped those shorts right off him.

He was lining up his shot and she was admiring his very fine form when every muscle in his body suddenly stilled. It was only a second before he dove for her, tackling her to the ground, and yelling at the other two, “Get down!”

Bark flew off the tree above them as silenced gunshots hit it. If Shanae didn’t know weaponry, she wouldn’t have even realized what happened. The two of them frantically crawled behind the tree and the meager cover it gave.

Mudflap called out, “Derek, are you two okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. What the hell was that?”

“Someone’s shooting at us. Stay down. I’m calling 911.”

Shanae cursed the fact she hadn’t armed herself better as she pulled the throwing knife off her thigh, not that it would do her much good against a gunman. She ignored the shocked look on Mudflap’s face when he caught sight of the blade and examined the area trying to get a bead on the guy.

Mudflap pointed to the area she’d been looking toward. “I’m thinking the shots came from that copse of trees over there. What do you think?”

“Yeah, that seems right.” She glanced up to Mudflap, who crouched over her body protecting her. A flash of red caught her attention and she gasped. Blood dripped off his elbow.

She immediately reached for him. “Crap, why didn’t you tell me you were hit?”

“It’s fine. It’s just a flesh wound.”

She did a quick examination of the wound and agreed with his assessment, but realized something. If they hadn’t been in the process of turning when that bullet came at them, it would have struck him dead in the heart. That was entirely too close for comfort. With her stomach in her throat, she asked, “How did you know to move?”

“Instinct from too many years in the Army. I don’t question my gut when that feeling rolls across my neck. It’s saved me way too many times to ignore it. But that doesn’t explain why you came armed for a date.”

Her stomach twisted at his intense look at the knife in her hand. Luck was on her side though, as sirens echoing over the golf course distracted him.

* * *

From the hospital, Shanae texted LiFT headquarters with a code to let them know she’d been involved in an incident, but not to interfere until she had a chance to report in. Right now, she was waiting for Mudflap to get stitched up before they had to go down and file their police report. He’d been correct; it was just a flesh wound.

Thankfully, things had been too crazy at the scene for him to question her any further about the knives. She hoped she could continue to put him off and maybe he’d just forget them in all the excitement. If not, she was ready with her regular ‘single gal’ cover story. It never hurt for a girl to have extra back-up and she knew how to stand up for herself. Most guys bought it when they came across a piece of weaponry on her, but honestly, who was going to question a girl who stayed armed to protect herself?

She nibbled on her fingernail as she considered what she knew about the incident today. The shooter had almost gotten Mudflap, but they’d been standing close together. Had Mudflap been the target or was she? Did this have something to do with the cotton gin fire or were the two incidents unrelated? And did any of this tie into ALT, the attempts on Grant’s life, or the threat to the Texas Tech football program? There were too many pieces in the puzzle and not a single one of them fit together yet.

The only thing she knew was Mudflap had gotten way to close to dying today. And that brought up a whole slew of other issues. She’d been having fun today, too much fun. She knew better than to get emotionally involved with a guy and she was sliding down a slippery slope. It was time to put some emotional separation between her and Mudflap, regardless of what Daniel wanted her to do.

They’d go and file their police report and then she’d quickly start the extrication process of getting out of Mudflap’s life.

Game 4 Results:

Texas Tech (19): 76

vs.

Iowa State: 7

Week 5: Making the Best of a Fumble

Mudflap

Something was wrong. Ever since the shooting at the golf course last week, Shanae had barely spoken or acknowledged him. He’d tried texting her and she never responded. He attempted to talk to her at the stadium, but she always found things to pull her away. He’d thought they had a good time, until someone decided to use them for target practice, but that wasn’t his fault. Surely she didn’t blame him for that.

He repositioned the ice on Benny’s right shoulder. Luckily the talented young quarterback was left-handed or they’d have an issue when it came to game time on Saturday. “Is it feeling any better?”

Benny rolled the shoulder socket, wincing with effort. “Not much. Damn defensive line.” He scowled toward the field where the offensive line continued to run drills with his back-up. “Didn’t anyone tell them that if they take me out during the week, then we won’t have a game on the weekend?”

He examined the way the kid moved as Mudflap rotated the shoulder. He didn’t think anything was permanently damaged, just really bruised. “Yeah, that hit did seem a little extreme. Is it normal for them to hit that hard during practice? It doesn’t seem like a good strategy for the health of the team.”

“Coach Willard has been tough on them since the new coach came on.”

Coach Willard was the defensive line coordinator and Mudflap had noticed a lot of yelling from that corner.

Benny continued, “I don’t know if he’s trying to impress the new coach or what, but I sure wish his guys would stop taking it out on me.”

As he caught sight of Shanae across the field, Mudflap began to listen with half an ear. His heart literally ached. She laughed with one of the guys from her paramedic crew. The laugh tinkled through the air, sounding wholly feminine over the sounds of the hard-hitting football players on the field. He wanted her to laugh like that with him again. He shook his head. Mooning over her laugh just made him pathetic. They were going to take away his man card.

Besides, that’s not what he was supposed to be doing here. He needed to stop letting the sight of a girl distract him from his job. There were lives at risk and he needed to remember that.

“You planning to tap that?” Benny asked.

Mudflap followed his gaze back to Shanae. “The paramedic?” He scowled at the young quarterback. “You shouldn’t talk about her that way.” Mudflap shrugged like she was no big deal, but then slumped down onto the seat beside the wounded player.

“You like her.”

It wasn’t a question, but Mudflap responded anyway. “Yeah, I do. We’ve gone out a couple of times, but she’s ignoring me now.”

“Man, that sucks. She’s hot in a girl next door kind of way.”

“Yeah, she is.” He glanced back over at her and a zing raced through him. Damn. It was time to refocus and get the correct head back in the game. He stood and turned to take another look at Benny’s shoulder. “No more hits for you today, only throwing drills. You don’t need to hit the turf again, okay? If the coach has an issue with that, tell him to come see me.”

As Benny rejoined the offense, Mudflap scanned the upper tiers of the stadium but didn’t see any movement. They were in the stadium today for practice rather than the training facility. No one had bothered to tell him why they were practicing here, but it made him nervous.

On the sidelines, TC talked strategy with his first and second string quarterbacks. Mudflap studied the rest of the coaching staff spread over the field, wondering about the dynamics behind TC’s new coaching staff. None of them knew what was going on behind the scenes. Most of them were leftovers from Coach Porter’s squad, not willing to break their own contracts, regardless of their thoughts on TC’s coaching ability. But Mudflap had heard a few grumblings. The coaching staff was not happy with the turn of events. So far, none of them were openly hostile and were managing to stay professional, at least on the surface.

The posture of Mac Allred, the offensive coordinator, caught his attention. Unlike the rest of the coaching staff, he wasn’t paying attention to the football players running drills on the field. Instead, he fiddled with his cell phone, angling his body strangely so that he faced different sides of the stadium. The coach was taking photos of the stadium with the camera on his phone. Why would he do that?

Mudflap searched his brain, trying to remember what he knew about the guy. Probably in his mid-fifties, he’d been on the coaching staff for Texas Tech eight or nine years. As the offensive coordinator, he would have been on the short list to take over as interim or even permanently hired at the head coach’s position. As far as Mudflap knew, he was a good coach and had taken a slight demotion coming to Tech from the head coach’s job at a smaller university. It stood to reason that the guy had hoped to move up to the head position.

For now, Mudflap continued to watch the guy and planned to report his actions. Maybe a specific search by the intel guys at DOD would yield a reason to watch him closer. Mudflap surreptitiously slid his own phone out of his pocket and snapped a couple of quick photos of the coach while he was turned away and sent them to the colonel.

* * *

“Crap. Fuck. Dammit,” Mudflap muttered as he popped the hood to his Bronco. As if today hadn’t been shitty enough with his continued frustrations over Shanae, now his fucking car wouldn’t start. He knew it was time for a tune-up, but had been too consumed by other things lately rather than the required maintenance on his Bronco. He slammed his hand on top of the starter a couple of times, hoping the fix would be that simple.

“Looks like you have a problem,” Shanae said in a low, sexy drawl.

Taking a deep breath to steel himself for the sight of her this close, he turned to face Shanae. He’d missed her. Up close, she took his breath away. Why did she have to be so perfect? Everything about her tripped his nervous system into overdrive.

She examined his exposed engine with a slight frown in between her brows. She reached in and started fiddling. “Are you having problems getting it started?”

“Yeah, it turns over, but doesn’t engage.” He knew he should watch whatever she was doing. Lord knows, he could learn more about how to fix his own damn car, but he’d much rather stand here and watch her ass flex under those pants. The fabric cupped her butt cheeks so perfectly as she stretched to reach over the engine. He swallowed hard and clenched his fists to resist the urge to pull her up against him.

Clueless to his internal struggle, she continued to work for a few more minutes before turning to him to instruct, “Okay, go try it now and see if it catches.”

He nodded and moved stiffly around to the driver’s door. Sliding into his seat, he took a moment to readjust his throbbing erection. Damn, he hadn’t gotten this hard at just the sight of a girl since he was fifteen years old. He needed to get a grip. He turned the key in the ignition and his Bronco purred to life, sounding smoother than it had in a few months.

He left it running, but got out of the driver’s seat to watch her since she continued to lean over the open hood making adjustments. He had no idea what she was doing as he stood there, but honestly, as he just soaked in her presence, he didn’t even care. Having her close to him was good enough. After the last few days, that seemed like a small gift.

She had a small, heart shaped freckle just under her right ear. He wanted to touch it, kiss it, nibble at it. That little freckle called to him on a soul-deep level. She called to him.

Finally she straightened, so he could take her all in. “You have a sweet ride here.”

He watched her mouth move, mesmerized and needing so badly to feel those lush lips against his.

“If you gave me a few hours with her, I could improve your engine performance.”

Need thrummed through his system, almost completely drowning out her words.

“Mudflap?”

He couldn’t ignore it anymore. He took the step forward and pressed his body against her, chest to chest, hip to hip, and finally lip to lip. As he sank further into her presence, he reached around her waist to pull her tight up against him.  A slight gasp escaped her mouth. That was all the encouragement he needed. He plunged in with his tongue, exploring her with the quick thrust and parry, dueling with hers. Every moment sent more electricity arcing through his body, pushing him forward. More. He needed more.

She reached up to thread her arms around his neck, groaning. It was a sound that threatened his sanity. Her nipples pebbled against his chest, her arousal clear even through the layers of their clothing.

Frenetic energy claimed them both as she began to tug at his clothing. He lifted her, propping her up on the edge of his hood. She swung her legs wide and hooked them around his back. Suddenly his hard, throbbing length was right where he wanted it to be, against the softest welcoming part of her. His hips surged out of instinct, pressing against her, pulsing even through their clothing, the need for more becoming an urgent pull that throbbed through his entire being.