Second Shot: A Men With Wood Novel

by C. M. Seabrook

  I’ve got a son. Maybe the thought should be more terrifying than it is. But it’s not.

  If anything, it just gives me a reason to finally take what I’ve wanted for too damn long.

  Chapter 4

  Seven Years Ago

  Brynne

  “I can’t believe Kane Madden is in your basement,” Amber squeals, glancing in the mirror above my dresser and running her fingers through her platinum blonde hair.

  I roll my eyes and flop down on my bed with the art history book I’m supposed to be reviewing for my exam on Monday.

  “He’s just a hockey player.” I’ve been around them all my life, and Kane Madden is no different. At least, that’s what I keep telling myself, hoping one day my stupid heart will realize the truth.

  “You mean a hockey god.” She giggles like she’s a freshman in high school rather than college. “He’s gorgeous.”

  “He’s okay,” I shrug, ignoring the butterflies that never fail to take flight whenever Kane’s name is mentioned. I hate that he has that effect on me. The ability to make my fingers tingle and my heart race. But no matter how hard I try to focus on the cocky arrogance he reeks of, my knees go weak every time he turns that dimpled smile on me.

  “Come on, you have to introduce me,” she whines, jumping on the bed, and pulling my textbook out of my hands and tossing it across the bed. She folds her hands in front of her face and bats her eyelashes at me, begging, “Please.”

  I exhale heavily. “Fine. But we’re not hanging out with-”

  “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” She wraps her arms around me in a tight hug. “You’re my freaking hero, you know that?”

  I roll off the bed and shake my head at her enthusiasm. I get that not everyone grew up with Steve Jacobs as their father, and an endless stream of professional hockey players coming in and out of their house on a regular basis, but being the daughter of the Annihilators’ coach isn’t as glamourous as Amber and her sorority friends seem to think it is.

  “Is that your brother?” Amber asks, bending over to look at the framed picture on my dresser of Sam and I at my high school graduation.

  Sam’s got his arm slung around my shoulder, his sandy brown hair hanging carelessly over his forehead, and an I-don’t-give-a-fuck-about-life smile plastered across his face.

  That’s Sam. Carefree. Fun. Gliding through life without a worry for tomorrow. The opposite of everything I am. It’s what I love about him, but it’s also what keeps getting him into trouble.

  “Is he a hockey player, too?” Amber asks, licking her lips like he’s an appetizer, with every intention of taking a bite.

  “No. Not anymore.” He stopped playing a couple of years ago. Knee injury. But I know he was secretly relieved. He’d always hated the pressure our dad put on him.

  I’m no Kane Madden, Sam always said, whenever anyone asked him if he played. He said it with a casual smile. But we both knew it was a way to hide the hurt that our father loved the man more than his own kids.

  “Too bad. He’s cute,” Amber says, still giggling.

  I give an annoyed grunt, hearing her hidden meaning. He wasn’t worth her time.

  “Do I look okay?” Amber asks, pulling her t-shirt lower to expose more cleavage. Even for a study session, she looks like she’s ready to go clubbing. And I’m starting to wonder if her recent insistence that we study here rather than the university library or her dorm wasn’t for some ulterior motive. That motive being Kane Madden.

  It’s no secret that my brother and Kane are friends, or that they like to party together. There are pictures all over social media to prove it. Sam worships the ground Kane walks on, just like my father.

  I get my father’s obsession. Kane is talented. Probably one of the best defenders in the league. But he’s arrogant. Cocky. And I have every intention of being the one Jacobs not to fall for his charms.

  But secretly I already know it’s too late for that.

  A quick peek in the mirror, and I groan inwardly. With my hair tied on top of my head in a messy bun, and oversized, dark-framed glasses that keep falling down my nose, I don’t need to worry about catching Kane’s attention. At least, not any positive attention.

  Amber is more his type; blonde, busty, with a sexual confidence that I could never pull off.

  “Well?” Eyebrows raised, she waits for my answer.

  Ignoring the pinch of jealousy that makes my back teeth clench, I answer, “You look beautiful.”

  “I know, right?” She laughs, blue eyes a little too bright, and I have a feeling that if given a chance, she won’t be leaving here alone tonight.

  Not that I care. She can do whatever she wants, with whoever she wants.

  Just not with Kane, my stupid heart protests.

  “Come on,” I mutter, leading her downstairs to the large rec room in the basement.

  The TV is blasting a baseball game and music blares from a stereo. Kane and Sam are spread out on the oversized leather couches. They don’t see us. I’m about to shout out for them to turn down the volume, until I see what Sam’s doing.

  With a rolled dollar bill in his hand, he leans over the coffee table and snorts one of the four lines of white powder in front of him.

  “Oh my God,” Amber whispers behind me. “Is that…”

  Cocaine.

  I’ve never seen the stuff, other than in movies, but there’s no denying what it is.

  Sam closes his eyes, inhaling deeply through his nostril, then hissing out a breath. When he opens his eyes, they’re glossy, his pupils so big they look like empty black holes.

  “That’s good stuff, bro,” Sam says, reaching out to hand Kane the rolled bill.

  Kane leans forward as if to take it from him, but when he does, he must catch my reflection in the TV, because his head jerks around.

  “Shit,” Kane hisses.

  Sam glances over at me, and he smiles. He fucking smiles. “Hey, dork. Who’s your friend?”

  I’m pretty sure my brain has stopped working because I can’t move, can’t think. All I see are the drugs spread out in front of him like a narcotic smorgasbord.

  “What the effing hell, Sam.”

  “What?” He leans back on the couch, his gaze roaming down Amber’s body, and a lazy grin stretching his face.

  “You’re kidding me, right?” Words finally spill from my lips. “You’re doing drugs now?”

  And not just any drug; the mother of all drugs. Sam’s always been a partier, but I’d never have thought he’d touch the stuff. Shit, he’s still a month away from being able to go to the bars legally.

  “Relax, dork. It’s Friday night,” Sam says, patting the couch for Amber to join him.

  And she freaking does.

  “We’re just having a little fun. Not hurting anyone.” Sam picks up a beer bottle from the table, lifting it to his lips, as he drapes his arm over Amber’s shoulder.

  Disappointment and anger mixes with my initial shock.

  Sam has been acting odd the past few months. Staying out for days at a time. Sleeping when he is home. More irritable than normal. I thought it was just the pressure my dad put on him to get a job. Be a responsible adult. But now I’m wondering if it isn’t something more.

  Kane’s gaze hasn’t left me. His dark hair, which usually falls in dark waves across his forehead, is pushed off his face, and his brows knit together as he takes me in, his expression severe. I can’t read his thoughts, but what I want to see is guilt. Because there’s no way this shit was my brother’s idea.

  “You’re both idiots, you know that?”

  Kane winces, but Sam’s attention is zeroed in on the ballgame.

  “Amber, let’s go.”

  Wrapping her skinny body around Sam, she meets my gaze with a look of triumph. “Your brother’s right. It’s Friday night. Come on, Brynne, loosen up.”

  Loosen up? Is she serious?

  Sam snickers, glancing back at me. “Yeah, loosen up, dork.”

  I love my br
other. More than anyone in this shitty world. But I hate what he’s become since he started hanging out with the man who’s watching me with stormy eyes filled with guilt.

  I shake my head, spinning on my heels, and I storm back up the stairs.

  “Brynne,” Kane’s deep voice growls out behind me.

  “Get lost, Madden.”

  “Damn it, Brynne. Wait.” He grabs my arm, spinning me around, so that I’m practically nose to nose with him.

  I should look away, not tempt the predator lurking behind the blue eyes that stare down at me. Instead, I jut my chin out at him defiantly.

  “What?” I do my best to ignore the heat of his touch, but it’s nearly impossible. It sizzles through me. Hot. Demanding. Tempting.

  “Let me explain.”

  “Explain? Explain what?” I glare at him, pouring all my disappointment, all my fear for Sam into the look. “I always knew you were bad news. I just didn’t know how bad.”

  His nostrils flare and he holds my gaze, something warring behind his eyes. He releases me, then drags his hands over his face.

  “My dad is going to flip when he finds out.”

  He lets out a slow breath. “Are you going to tell him?”

  The way he asks, I wonder if he wants me to.

  I should. But I know what he’d do. His golden boy, Kane, might get a slap on the wrist. But it would be worse for Sam. My father’s wrath is always worse for my brother. If he thought for even a second Sam was doing drugs, he’d kick him out of the house. He already threatened to when Sam dropped out of university last year.

  “No.” I push on his chest, which considering I’m almost a foot shorter and he outweighs me by a hundred pounds, is pretty pointless.

  He doesn’t budge. Just looms over me, all brooding and intense.

  “You want to screw up your own life, fine. But don’t drag my brother down with you.”

  “You always want to think the worst of me.” He leans closer, his blue gaze searching mine with an intensity that makes me shiver. “Why is that?”

  Because you scare me. Because I don’t trust my heart around you. Because you make me feel the one thing I’m terrified of being – weak.

  “Maybe it’s because I just found you snorting cocaine in my basement. Hard to talk your way out of that one, Madden.”

  “I didn’t…” His jaw muscles bounce as he glances over his shoulder.

  “Didn’t what?”

  He doesn’t answer, just stands there glaring down at me. I know I should walk away, but all I can do is focus on the dark stubble on his jaw, the way he pulls his full bottom lip between his teeth, and the way he runs his fingers through his hair causing his biceps to flex and strain the fabric of his t-shirt.

  His eyes glide down my body from head to toe, then back up, halting on my lips.

  Electricity.

  Lust.

  Attraction.

  All those things and more burn in his gaze. He shoves his hands in the pockets of his designer jeans, his lips tightening into a thin line, the blue of his gaze so intense I can’t help but shiver.

  Danger rolls off him, but I don’t know how to stop my body from responding to his.

  A wall of anger. That’s the best way to guard my heart. Brick by brick, I lay the foundation. I may not be able to keep my brother from trouble, but I can protect myself.

  “If anything happens to him, I’ll blame you.”

  The muscles in Kane’s jaw tense, and he says before he walks away, “Trust me, Brynne. I know.”

  Chapter 5

  Present

  Kane

  The rink has always been the place where I could clear my head. Game. Practice. Doesn’t matter. Just putting the gear on, the sound of metal against ice, the smell of leather and sweat, the feel of the stick in my hands; it’s an adrenaline rush. A place to channel my aggression. And today, I have a lot of fucking aggression.

  Coach has us working on a two-v-two drill that has me and Austin pitted against Sebastian and one of the newest additions to the team, Tyler Slade. Usually, I can outskate both of them, but today my feet feel like they have concrete blocks rather than skates attached to them.

  Tyler gives me a little bump from behind, before maneuvering around me and taking the puck away. Using all of my two-hundred-and-twenty pounds, I check him into the boards, and he drops - hard.

  “What the hell?” Tyler is up quickly, gloves fisted in my jersey.

  I push him back. “Lay off, asshole. It was a clean shot.”

  The man mumbles something under his breath and drops his hands. I should let it go. Usually, I would. But I’m itching for a fight.

  When he starts to turn, I give him a swift uppercut to the jaw, not hard enough to do any real injury, but enough to cause a reaction.

  And I get one.

  His gloves come off and his fist connects with my face, a blow that’s going to do some damage. But it feels good. It feels fucking great.

  My own gloves come off, and I get a few good shots in of my own, before the guys are pulling me off him.

  Blake and Sebastian hold me back, Coach is screaming, and Tyler is bleeding all over the damn ice. But the only thing I can think about is Brynne - and the kid.

  “Get off me.” I shrug away from Blake and Sebastian.

  “Madden,” Coach has fire in his eyes, and it’s aimed straight at me. “Get over here.”

  I can’t deal with him. Not right now. My head is a mess. And every time I look at the man, I can’t help but play his words from the other night over and over in my head.

  If you hear from her, you’ll let me know.

  Jesus, what am I supposed to tell him? Yeah, I not only saw her, but also the grandkid she hasn’t told you about. Oh, and by the way, I’m the fucking father.

  Ignoring Coach’s hollering, I skate off the ice.

  I didn’t sleep last night. And I know I won’t until I see her again.

  The initial shock has worn off, at least slightly, enough to know that I’m more than pissed at her. Fuck her reasons. The kid is as much mine as it is hers, and I’ll be damned if I’m going to let her keep him from me.

  The fact that she thought for even a second that I wouldn’t want to be part of his life only frustrates me more. Sure, the thought of having a kid never really crossed my mind. But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let my own son grow up the same way I did, not knowing who his father is.

  In the change room, I tear my helmet off and toss it on the bench, before slamming my fist into the wall.

  “Jesus, Madden.” Blake moves into the room, pulling off his goalie mask and dragging his fingers through his long, dark hair. Gray eyes watch me carefully, like he’s ready at any second for me to detonate. “What’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing.” I sit down and start unlacing my skates.

  Still in his heavy gear, he sits down on the bench across from me. “You going to tell me or am I going to have to beat it out of you?”

  With my elbows on my knees, I place my head in my palms and mutter, “Brynne’s back.”

  Silence.

  I look up, expecting some response, but he’s just watching me with a you’re-asking-for-trouble look.

  “Does Coach know?”

  I shake my head. “I was at the cemetery yesterday. She was there…”

  “You going to tell him you saw her?”

  “I don’t know.” I scrub my fingers over my face. “I don’t know what the hell I’m going to do.”

  More silence.

  “You want to tell me what’s really going on?”

  I exhale heavily, then mutter, “She’s got a kid.”

  He frowns. “And that’s your problem, how?”

  I hold his gaze, jaw clenched, waiting. I can see the moment he gets it. His eyes widen and his mouth drops open.

  “Fuck. It’s yours? Jesus, Kane. You slept with her?” With every word, his voice gets louder.

  “Keep your voice down.”

  “Coa
ch is going to have your balls when he finds out.”

  “Right now, Coach is the least of my worries.” Pinching the back of my neck, I look up at the ceiling, then close my eyes. “She doesn’t want me having anything to do with him.” I huff out a bitter laugh. “I don’t think she’d even have told me if I hadn’t seen him.”

  Blake exhales loudly. “That’s messed up, man.”

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  “I don’t know. But I’m not letting her keep my kid from me.”

  He winces, shaking his head. “I know you’ve had feelings for Brynne for a long time, but-”

  “This has nothing to do with feelings. It has to do with responsibility.”

  He grunts.

  “What?”

  “Just don’t let her fuck with your head. I care about the girl, too. But she’s always had her head stuck up her ass where you’re concerned. I don’t know why you don’t just tell her the damn truth.”

  “You know why.”

  “Bullshit reason, bro. You think it’s what Sam would have wanted? Her hating you because he was off his meds-”

  “Don’t.”

  With a shake of his head, he stands. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt…”

  I hear the word he doesn’t say. Again.

  “What? You think I should just forget about her, forget that she had my kid? ‘Cause there’s no way in hell I’m doing that.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” He pushes his hair off his forehead before placing his goalie mask back on. “I’m just saying take it slow.”

  I watch him leave, then mutter under my breath when he’s gone, “I’ve never done anything slow in my life, and I have no intention of starting now.”

  Chapter 6

  Brynne

  I’ve never been a cruel person, or at least I didn’t think I was. Not until I saw the look in Kane’s eyes when he realized Noah was his.

  I’ll never forget the betrayal that burned in his gaze, the hurt and confusion. I thought I was doing the right thing by not telling him, but maybe I was wrong.