Down by Contact - A Seattle Lumberjacks Romance by Jami Davenport Page B

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