Read Online Forward Passes (Seattle Lumberjacks) by Jami Davenport - Free Book Online Page B

friends and family say? What would be his legacy? Great quarterback, but a poor excuse for a human being?
    When did it start to fucking matter?
    He knew the answer to that question—Tyler’s mind morphed back to the moment a dying Ryan asked him to find his absentee mother:
    “I need you to find my mother.”
    “Your mother?”
    “Yeah. Please, Ty. I need to know where she is. I want to see her before—before—well, you know.”
    “Why didn’t you ask Derek?”
    “Because I want the truth. Derek’s too nice. He’d never tell me the truth if it was bad news.”
    “And I would?”
    “Yeah. You’re a tough guy. A badass. You say what you think and to hell with everyone else. I don’t want anyone worrying about my feelings. I need to know.”
    “You think you’ll get that from me?”
    “Yeah, I will because you won’t be concerned about hurting me. You’ll just do the job. You take care of yourself; nobody else matters.”
    Swiping a hand across his face, Tyler rose to his feet. He glanced at his worthless cell sitting on the antique hall tree. By now he most likely had a dozen messages from his agent, but he couldn’t access them until he drove to town. The guy must be wetting his boxers in fear his star client might be on the verge of suspension, or even worse—retirement. After all, where does a guy go when he’s hit the top of the peak? Twice. Get out while the getting’s good, or stay until they kick your ass out cause you’re so old no one wants you?
    Tyler never wanted to be the object of anyone’s pity. Never.
    Besides, he didn’t know what the hell he was considering. He was still young, only twenty-eight, and healthy, but he’d lost his passion for the game. That fire in his belly. That inexplicable something that drove him to be the best at all costs.
    Right now, he felt nothing, not just about football but about his life. Inside, he was one big empty zero. Refinishing this banister or ogling Lavender’s ass gave him more satisfaction than his last Super Bowl win.
    Picking up the sandpaper, he rubbed harder on the solid oak and used his frustration to fuel his ambition.
    * * * * *
    Lavender gathered all the glasses onto a tray and wiped the table clean. Behind her Tyler nursed his beer. She felt his eyes on her butt almost like a caress. Holding the tray, she turned back to the bar and filled more drink orders. Hyperaware of Tyler behind her, the counter was the only thing separating their bodies. Distracted, she overfilled a beer glass. Beer ran down the counter onto the floor. Behind her, a soft chuckle raised her hackles.
    “What do you find so amusing?” She wrung the towel in her hands and wished it were his neck.
    His blue eyes lit up with asshole pleasure. “I make you nervous.” His deep voice tugged at something deep inside her.
    “Bullshit.”
    He held out the cuss jar. Lavender dug in her pockets and crammed a buck in the overflowing jar. “That’ll be two bucks. One for cussing and one for lying.”
    “There’s no penalty for lying. If there was, you’d be broke.”
    He rubbed the day’s worth of stubble decorating his strong chin. “So you admit to the lying part.”
    “I admit to nothing, except that you annoy the hell out me.” Lavender wiped the beer from the counter and bent down to clean the puddle on the floor. When she straightened, she locked eyes with her insufferable neighbor.
    “Nice view. You’ve got a great ass. I’m a tits man myself, but you could change that. Not that you don’t have an incredible rack, because you do. At least what I can see.” He sat back on the bar stool, a smug smile spread those sensuous lips apart and revealed perfect white teeth.
    “Why can’t you just leave me alone?”
    “And miss out on all this fun? Not on your life sweetheart.” He leaned closer and lowered his voice. Despite her best intentions, she leaned toward him. “I never back down from a challenge, and you’re one damn fine challenge.”
    Grappling