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  ROUGHING THE PASSER

  Jami Davenport

  “I cannot wait to read more in this series….”

  —Wendy the Super Librarian

  THE PERFECT SPIRAL

  Swallowing around the lump of emotion in his throat, Tyler looked up and took the plunge. “And me. Where do I fit in?”

  “Where do you want to fit in?” Lavender met his gaze, her eyes full of hope and more.

  He held her hand to his heart. “Right here.” His voice gave out, making him sound like a croaking frog.

  She choked back a sob of joy, lifted her gaze to his, tears streaking down her face.

  “I miss you.” He grabbed her other hand and squeezed. She squeezed back.

  “I miss you, too, you lovable asshole.”

  “Reformed asshole.”

  Lavender laughed and leaned forward, and Tyler met her halfway across the table. His mouth captured hers, and he lost himself in one hell of a reunion kiss until someone shouted “Get a room.”

  Tyler pulled back a few inches. “So—you think you could grow to love an asshole like me?”

  “No, I don’t think I could.”

  His heart cracked, his brash armor crumbled. He stood to go, his pride not allowing him to stay.

  Leaping to her feet, she grabbed his arm, surprising him by her strength and pulled him to her. “You didn’t let me finish. I can’t grow to love you because I already do—love you.” She wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Are you sure?” His breath stalled in his throat.

  “Yes, I’m absolutely sure. I’m stuck with you, and you’re stuck with me.”

  Roughing the Passer

  Jami Davenport

  www.BOROUGHSPUBLISHINGGROUP.com

  PUBLISHER’S NOTE: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, business establishments or persons, living or dead, is coincidental. Boroughs Publishing Group does not have any control over and does not assume responsibility for author or third-party websites, blogs or critiques or their content.

  ROUGHING THE PASSER

  Copyright © 2014 Pam D. Bowerman

  Smashwords Edition

  All rights reserved. Unless specifically noted, no part of this publication may be reproduced, scanned, stored in a retrieval system or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, known or hereinafter invented, without the express written permission of Boroughs Publishing Group. The scanning, uploading and distribution of this book via the Internet or by any other means without the permission of Boroughs Publishing Group is illegal and punishable by law. Participation in the piracy of copyrighted materials violates the author’s rights.

  ISBN 978-1-941260-70-8

  To my readers who’ve come to adore Tyler—the loveable ass—as much as I have, this one’s for you.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  A special thanks to the crew at Boroughs, Chris, Jill, and Michelle, for a productive partnership and for loving my series as much as I do.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  About the Author

  Roughing the Passer

  Chapter 1—Broken Tackles and Broken Hearts

  Tyler Harris—star NFL quarterback, not-so reformed bad-boy, and once dedicated boyfriend—staggered into the bar and bounced off a couple tables. Steadying himself with a hand on a stranger’s shoulder, he pushed off and let momentum carry him the rest of the way.

  His buddies and fellow teammates looked up at him in unison. Tyler shoved one of them over in the booth and collapsed onto the wooden seat.

  The men swam in front of his eyes, blurring and moving in ways that made his head pound and spin. Why the fuck didn’t they just sit still?

  “You didn’t drive in that condition, did you?” Derek Ramsey, his tight-ass, follow-the-rules cousin asked, disapproval etched in the grim line of his mouth.

  Tyler sneered at him. “I took a taxi.”

  “What has you so fucked up tonight?” Zach Murphy studied him, as if he couldn’t quite decipher Tyler’s problem. Zach considered him a moron.

  “Looks like he got into a fight with a street gang of marauding alley cats and lost,” Bruiser Mackey noted.

  Brett Gunnels, visiting for a few days from California, didn’t say much, just dissected him with an expression Tyler couldn’t focus on long enough to decipher.

  Tyler rubbed his eyes, propped his elbows on the table, and rested his chin in his hands. As he shifted his gaze from one friend to the other, the movement made his temples throb.

  “She left me.” The words caught in his throat and came out sounding pathetic and strangled.

  Complete silence from the guys as they looked at each other, telegraphing unspoken messages via eyes and body language, a communication born of thousands of hours on the football field together. Tyler understood because he’d been there, too. Usually those secret messages included him, but today they shut him out, and he didn’t like it one damn bit. In fact, he hated it, hated being left out in the cold, but even that didn’t compare to the pain stabbing his heart with a relentless ruthlessness and driving him to his knees. Figuratively speaking.

  Zach, the rat bastard, spoke first. “Lavender finally got a brain to go with that beauty and kicked your ass to the curb, huh?”

  Leave it to Murphy to cut through the bullshit and get to the point. Tyler clenched his jaw until his teeth ground together, refusing to respond to the insult. Murphy had gotten a little too big for his britches after he’d retired from football a month ago and accepted a position as the Jacks’ linebackers coach. In fact, as far as Tyler was concerned, he’d become an insufferable ass.

  Derek shook his head and muttered, “I’m sorry, man, but you had it coming.”

  Screw that. What was the world coming to when a guy couldn’t even get a little respect and sympathy from his own cousin?

  Bruiser Mackey snorted his drink through his nose—he’d been hanging out with no-manners-Murphy too long. “I saw this coming a year ago. You should’ve given the woman a ring, you fuckhead.”

  Tyler fisted his hands, fantasizing about how good it would feel to slam his knuckles into Bruiser’s smug face. Just because the asshole pretended to be happily married didn’t mean the rest of the world was that stupid.

  Tyler turned to Brett. “Go ahead. Your turn; take a shot.”

  Brett shrugged one shoulder and cradled his beer in his hands. “They’ve pretty much covered it.”

  Looking at each one of his buddies—his partners in crime, his posse who stood by him on and off the field—Tyler got the distinct feeling they thought he was the dumbshit. He didn’t like being the dumbshit. After all, he’d grown beyond that—thanks to she who would not be named. Hell, he’d embraced his sensitive side as much as he could at her insistence. He’d even given her free rein to do damage to his extensive credit limit.

  What more did a woman want?

  Like he didn’t know the answer to that question.

  She wanted the one thing he just flat-out could not give.

  A ring.

  * * * *

  Lavender was late. By the time she got to the bar, her girlfriends were on their second bottle of wine and the nachos were down to a few soggy chips with no cheese on them. Lavender sat down and poured a glass of wine, fully aware four sets of eyes focused on her.

  “You’re blonde.” Mac spoke the obvious
.

  “Yeah, I wanted a change.” Like that was the only change in her life.

  “Wow, it’s different.” Kelsie leaned over and inspected her head as if checking out the quality of the dye job on every strand of hair.

  “Do you like it?” On the verge of tears, Lavender wrung her hands together, worried she’d made a huge mistake. But then everything put her on the verge of tears lately. Such as when she missed her favorite TV show, when her internet went down for ten minutes, and when she’d run out of wine—though running out of wine was worth crying over.

  They continued to stare at her even as every head nodded in unison, reminding her of the bobbleheads they gave away at Mariners games.

  “It’s over, but you guys already knew that, didn’t you?” Of course, they did. Tyler would’ve told his buddies, who would’ve told their women.

  Again, the bobblehead action from the women.

  “Well, what could I to do? I put his feet to the fire, and he called my bluff.” She sniffed and blew her nose on the napkin.

  “Doesn’t sound like you were bluffing if you broke it off,” Mac stated the obvious.

  “I was, at first. But he was such a dick about it I knew all hope was lost. He backed me into a corner. Did I want to live the rest of my life as his girlfriend and never his bride? Did I want to have kids in that situation, assuming I could convince him to have kids?”

  No answer; not one of them spoke. Lavender couldn’t decide if they were with her or against her. She needed them with her, desperately needed someone with her.

  Finally Kelsie spoke, “Where are you living?”

  “I moved in with my brother and got a job bartending at Alex’s on the Seattle waterfront.” Lavender refused to accept any handouts from her father or Tyler. She’d do this on her own. She’d already paid her tuition and books for spring quarter. Next fall would be another story, and she’d cross the bridge when she came to it. Being totally independent of Tyler’s money was somewhat freeing, even if making ends meet might prove difficult.

  “So you’ve been broken up, what, a week?” Estie, Tyler’s older sister, asked.

  Lavender did a quick calculation on her fingers. “Just five days.” Three hours and seven minutes. But who was counting? Sure as hell not her. She’d gotten a job that very next day and started that evening. Keeping busy eased the pain but as soon as she got home to an empty bed, the tears flowed. She’d cried herself to sleep every night.

  She’d never felt such bone-deep pain before, not even when her father moved out and her parents divorced, not when her mother died, not when Tyler and her split up the first time. Nothing came close to this. She didn’t think anything ever would.

  “Are you doing okay?” Asked a concerned and very pregnant Rachel, the wife of Tyler’s cousin, Derek.

  “I’m taking life one hour at a time.” That’s about all she could handle right now.

  “Are you sure there’s nothing that can be done?” MacKenzie, aka Mac, swirled the wine in her glass and rested her chin in one hand.

  “This is my stubborn moron of a brother we’re talking about,” Estie scoffed. Her eyes narrowed and she looked ready to kick some Harris ass.

  “Zach says Tyler is a drunken mess.” Kelsie looked to the girls for confirmation. More head bobbing ensued.

  Lavender felt a pinch of satisfaction knowing Tyler, too, was paying the price of their breakup, but it didn’t last long before the lonely despair settled back in. She ordered a martini and drank to girlfriends, shoes, and good food.

  Tomorrow she’d cry some more. Tonight she’d force herself to have fun.

  After all, splitting up with Tyler was for the best. She knew it in her heart.

  Or so she desperately wanted to believe.

  Chapter 2—Dating and Ducking

  Lavender sat in her afternoon class and stared straight ahead, attempting to concentrate on what her instructor said. Even though she hadn’t heard a word since class had started.

  It’d been ten days, five hours, and twenty minutes. Not one call from Tyler. Not one I’m sorry, I made a huge mistake, and how many carats would you like for that ring? Nope, not stubborn Tyler. His pride would never allow him to beg her forgiveness or to back down from a stance he took.

  It was over. Dead. Done. The sooner she realized it, the better.

  So why couldn’t she convince her heart? She missed so many things about him, like how he often brought her coffee in bed, his naughty grin, his affinity for cats, his fierce loyalty to his family. All of it. She hated closing her eyes at night because his face was painted on the inside of her eyelids, his eyes glittering with emotion and lust, his big strong hands stroking her naked body as another part of him stroked her deep inside.

  Lavender squirmed in her seat. This wasn’t a good line of thinking while sitting in a classroom. She stared down at her tablet and made some notes, even though they had nothing to do with the lecture.

  Percy, a nice guy and nerdy classmate, slid into the empty seat next to her and nodded, giving her a shy smile. Lavender smiled back, surprised the usually punctual Percy was late. She liked him and suspected his feelings toward her extended far beyond mere liking.

  When the class ended, Percy stood at the same time she did. “Lavender, do you want to get together this week? We could study or have coffee. Whatever works for you.”

  He asked her after every class, and every time she’d turned him down, not wanting to give him false hope. She opened her mouth to give him her customary refusal and snapped it shut. She was a free woman. Why not go out with a nice guy who obviously had been interested for months? A totally different type than Tyler, he’d be a welcome change. Maybe it was too early to get back into dating, but why the hell not get back on the horse as soon as it bucks you off? At least a different, more docile horse.

  “I’d love to join you.”

  Percy blinked once, twice, and then several times. He cupped his ear with one hand. “What did you just say?”

  “Yes—I said yes.”

  “What happened to you and the quarterback?”

  Lavender hesitated then flashed a flirty grin. “I kicked his ass to the curb.”

  You’d have thought she’d told him he’d just won a million dollars the way his face lit up. “Took you long enough to get rid of the jerk.”

  Lavender didn’t like anyone criticizing Tyler, but she kept her thoughts to herself—for now. “We wanted different things from a relationship, and I realized he’d never change,” she muttered, more for her ears than anyone else’s.

  “I can imagine.”

  Actually, he couldn’t. He didn’t have a clue, and she didn’t intend on enlightening him.

  * * * *

  A couple nights later Lavender sat with Percy in Alfredo’s Pizzeria at a corner table. She’d made a huge mistake coming here. Percy gazed at her as if she cleared the clouds on a sunny day, but he didn’t interest her as more than a casual friend, and he never would. Her heart belonged to a certain asshole quarterback with a big ego, even bigger heart, and a phobia regarding marriage.

  Lavender sighed. She needed more time. This was a dumb idea to think a night out with a nice guy would distract her. It only made her miss the lovable asshole Tyler all the more.

  Lavender stared at the wine bottle, pretending to read the label as if it were the most interesting thing in her world. She took a sip of her wine and managed a smile. Percy had to be the most boring date ever. She might not be able to sleep at night, but she was ready to fall asleep right now.

  “Would you like another glass?” Percy leaned forward, hanging on her every word, not that there were many. Not only did she feel like shit because of the breakup, now she felt like shit because this poor guy was enamored of her, and she was B-O-R-E-D.

  Lavender stared at the almost full glass on the table. “I’m fine.” She picked up the piece of pizza and bit a hunk out of it, chewing slowly. If she was chewing, she didn’t have to talk. Lately food tasted like cardb
oard, but she’d been shoving it in at an alarming rate, as if it could offer comfort from what ailed her. Instead of making her feel better, she’d put on five pounds.

  Glancing at her cell phone, she pushed the wine glass to the middle of the table. “I really should be going. I worked late last night, and I’m really tired.” It wasn’t even seven yet. At least she’d been smart enough to meet him at the restaurant and not let him pick her up.

  Percy’s face fell, reminding her of a puppy in an animal shelter begging for someone to take him home. “I can get tickets to that play downtown. Are you interested?”

  Lavender met his gaze, seeing the combination of hope and uncertainty in his eyes and feeling even more like a bitch. “Percy, I’m not ready for a relationship yet. I can’t. It wouldn’t be fair to you.”

  “We could just hang out as friends. I don’t mind. I’m a good listener.”

  Lavender sighed. “I mind. I won’t use you like that.” She pushed back her chair and stood. “Thanks for the wine. I’ll see you in class.” She paused and touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

  Percy frowned, and Lavender hustled out of the little restaurant before he could say anything else. She drove several blocks before the tears erupted, flowing down her cheeks, dripping off her chin, and wetting her blouse. Pulling over, she rested her forehead on the steering wheel and let the heart-wrenching sobs take over. She needed to give herself time. Lots of time. That was the only thing that could heal the debilitating pain of her loss.

  She’d loved Tyler unconditionally, loved his bad-ass honesty, his passion, and his unending loyalty to those who mattered to him. A smile tugged at her mouth when she recalled how attached he’d come to Cougar, his orange tabby cat, despite all his claims of being a confirmed cat hater.

  Finally, drained of all emotion, she drove the car home, not remembering how she got there when she finally pulled into the driveway of her brother’s modest two-bedroom home. Her brother wasn’t there, but then he was never home. He was either at work or with his girlfriend. The house was merely a place to store his clothes.