FALSE START (Gods of the Gridiron Book 2)

by Shanna Swenson

  “Swear what, Hunt?”

  “That you’ll take care of the woman we both love.”

  Brett’s eyes came up to his best friend’s, a mixture of regret, uncertainty, and hesitation.

  “I know, Brett. I’ve always known.” When Brett didn’t respond, Hunter continued, “And yet, I didn’t care. I was gonna have her no matter what… Now look what it’s cost me.”

  Brett gulped. How had he known? Brett had never told anyone. Not even his parents knew…well, maybe they’d known, but it hadn’t been because he’d told them.

  “But it’s your turn now. You have a second chance, buddy. To do what I couldn’t. Love her like you were always meant to. The way I failed.”

  “No, Hermes, you—”

  “Hermes! Ha!”

  Travis “Ares” Redmond, had pegged Hunter “Hermes” when he’d joined their team back in late September. Brett had gotten the name Zeus for the “thunderbolts” he’d been throwing.

  “I’m a sorry excuse where my wife is concerned, and you damn well know it!”

  Brett almost crumpled at the sorrow on Hunter’s face and the tears in his brown eyes.

  “Dammit, Brett, you know that what I did was all a huge mistake, right?”

  “I know, brother, I know. It’s—”

  “Don’t let her find out, please? It will crush her.”

  “I’ll do my very best.”

  “Swear?”

  “I swear, Hunt.”

  “It was the dumbest thing I’ve ever done, and I regret it like hell now. I’d do anything to take it back. She—" Hunter was sniveling now, the pain of his regret palpable. “She didn’t deserve it, Brett. You were right. Madi’s been the perfect wife. I was a fool. I—"

  “Shh, hey, I know, man, I know. It’s ok. Let’s not worry about the things we can’t change, huh?”

  The last thing Brett wanted was for his best friend’s dying words to have to be groveling. He gave him a big smile and gripped his hand tighter.

  “I promise I’ll take care of Madi,” Brett assured.

  At that, Hunter grinned big. “It was always supposed to be you, Brett.” Hunter squeezed his eyes shut for a moment and a tear ran down his bloody cheek. “Give her children. She wants a boy, you know?”

  Brett sucked a deep breath in, remembering that Hunter and Madi had been unsuccessfully trying to have a baby for the last six months. They’d both been tested to find out what the problem was but no answers had come. Hunter had been excited to tell his teammates about it, making jokes in his typical “Hermes” fashion, but Madi was under the illusion that it was a secret. Hunt really sucked at keeping secrets.

  Brett’s reverie was interrupted as Madison came down the stairs, dressed in a blue sweater dress and leggings with leather riding boots. She’d donned makeup, coral lipstick, and left her hair down in waves that framed her face. She looked downright edible, and Brett cleared his throat.

  “You ready, Sunflower?” he asked, calling her the nickname he gave her when they were just children. She’d always loved sunflowers. She nodded and he moved in front of her, taking her face in his hands. “I’m sorry if I was harsh.”

  She shook her head. “I needed harsh, I think.” He gave her a smile and released her, pulled her arm through his as he moved to the garage door, set the alarm, and guided them to his GMC Sierra 1500 Denali.

  Madi moved to the passenger side and he took the driver seat, turning the radio onto a soft jazz station. They rode in companionable silence before he turned down Main Street and onto the road to one of the best restaurants for country food in town—Sanders House.

  “We can’t eat here,” Madi stated in shock as he pulled into the parking lot.

  “Don’t worry.”

  They’d learned the hard way long ago that they couldn’t just waltz into a place without unwanted attention, despite growing up in a small-town mountain city.

  Brett pulled his SUV to a stop at the back of the restaurant.

  “Brett, we—I can’t—” Madi began.

  “It’s ok. Wait here. I’ll be right back.”

  He gave her a reassuring smile and squeezed her hand before stepping out of the truck. He moved to the back door, gave three knocks and a big bellied woman with rosy cheeks and curly hair threw the rickety, old thing open and greeted him with a bright smile.

  “Brett McFadden. How are you, sugar?”

  “I’m well, Rosie. Thank you for doing this.”

  “Absolutely. It’s my pleasure. You take care of that sweet girl of Jerry’s now. Bless y’alls hearts.” Rosie’s eyes teared up.

  “Will do, Rose. Have a good day.”

  “You too, hon.” She leaned in and kissed his cheek, handing him a large basket of food.

  He walked back to the truck and got a confused look out of Madi when she saw the overfilled basket.

  “You got it to-go?”

  “Yes, ma’am. I did.” He beamed, and she relaxed some as he turned and placed it in the floorboard behind her. “Let’s roll the windows down. It’s sunny out today.”

  He rolled all four of the windows down halfway and turned the radio on to his favorite country station, hearing Tim McGraw sing, “Where The Green Grass Grows.” He sang along to the lyrics and nudged Madi to join in. She smiled but didn’t sing along. Brett didn’t press it. She was out of the house and that was a start.

  It was a gorgeous March day driving through the valley, the birds were singing, the dogwood and cherry blossom trees were starting to bloom, and the sun was warm. Spring had sprung.

  Madi continued to sit quietly as if in a fog as Brett turned back onto his land and headed down a dirt trail behind the barn. Maybe, if she felt up to it, they’d take the horses for a ride today.

  He pulled up to his favorite clearing and cut the ignition. He got out of the truck, grabbing a big blanket from the backseat. He then came back and got the basket, motioning for Madi to sit as he began to do so himself. She glanced over at the creek that bubbled not far from where they sat and drained into a lake just fifty yards downstream, at the old oak tree with a swing he’d fashioned years ago, then she looked down.

  Brett set to the task of pulling the goodies out of the basket— sweet teas in mason jars and the many containers of food: fried chicken, squash casserole, lima beans, creamed corn, sweet potatoes, and yeast rolls. He grabbed the plates and utensils Rosie had provided and began divvying up the feast.

  “Am I ever gonna stop seeing him in everything I hear, see, and do?” Madi stated as if in a reverie.

  “The point is not to stop, just to not breakdown when you do,” Brett replied.

  “My lord, we don’t eat like this.”

  “That’s kinda the point, Madi.”

  “Mmm,” she moaned as he handed her the heaping plate he knew she’d eat three bites of and be done with. “This smells incredible.”

  “Yeah, said by someone who’s been trying to starve herself.”

  “I wasn’t. I just…” she trailed off as Brett dug into the food and she followed. She moaned again as she bit into the chicken. “This is so good.”

  “The soul needs comfort food.” Brett grinned big and Madi returned it, after she’d swallowed her bite. “We’re going to your mom and dad’s for dinner tonight at six.”

  Madi’s face fell and she looked away suddenly.

  “I thought you’d want to see them, Sunflower. It’s been almost a week.”

  “I do, I just…”

  “Your mom wanted to have you committed, Madi. She thinks you locking yourself up was concerning to say the least.”

  “I just didn’t realize how many days had passed. I wasn’t tryin’ to—”

  “Hey, we all have to grieve. Some people grieve differently than others, ok? None of us have experienced what you have.”

  “You have,” Madi whispered and looked up into his eyes, her seafoam green orbs lighting up in the sunlight, making her even more beautiful than she already was to him. “I haven’t even chec
ked on you. I bet no one has. They’ve been so worried about me. How are you holding up, Brett?” She’d set her plate down and was touching his forearm, bringing her hand down to his. He squeezed her soft, small palm in his larger one, admiring the feel and texture and touch of the woman he’d been hopelessly in love with all his life.

  He’d been holding up as best he could for a man riddled with guilt at losing his best friend. The man who’d been more like his brother than not. They’d fought as much as they got along; he loved the goofy asshole despite his flaws, his arrogant ways, and how he’d treated his wife. Hunter had been funny, light-hearted, and one of a kind. And Brett had lived instead.

  Brett found himself opening up for the first time since the accident to Madison—for if he couldn’t open up to the woman who’d been his best friend since they were seven who the hell else could he talk to? “It was supposed to be me….”

  He heard Madi pull in a shuddered breath. She’d told him not to say that again, but he wasn’t saying it because he felt it to be true. He said it because it was true. It was Hunter’s car. And Brett had been driving it. If Brett had been in the passenger seat, he would’ve been the one to take the brunt of the hit. He told Madi all this, and for once, she wasn’t crying; she just looked at him, absorbing his feelings and emotions.

  “Guilt eats at me every day, and I have to just swallow it down. God chose me.”

  Madi’s smile was earnest as she fought the tears stinging her eyes. “He did. And I know we aren’t supposed to question Him, but I’ve been really mad.”

  “Anger is part of the process. There’s nothing wrong with that, Madi. I’ve been mad, too.”

  “You have?”

  Brett nodded. “I’ve hit the gym every single day, started doing some kick-boxing to help get my emotions out.”

  “Has it helped?”

  Brett nodded again. “Now you need an outlet, aside from sleeping all day.”

  Madi pulled her lips in and nodded, herself.

  Brett pulled his phone from his back pocket, turning Spotify on to their favorite country albums. They ate in comfortable silence, enjoying the sunshine, and Madi laughed when Brett patted his tummy dramatically. It was good to hear that beautiful sound again; Brett smiled brightly, happy for the first time in a very long time.

  When they finished eating and had set their plates aside, “I Hope You Dance” by Lee Ann Womack came on. Brett popped up, seeing the sorrow on Madi’s face simply too much for him. He had to extinguish it. He extended his hand to her.

  “C’mon, we got to. It’s our song from senior prom, remember?”

  Madi gave him a slow smile and took his hand, letting him pull her up and into his arms for a dance. He held one hand in his own, the other wrapped around her waist while hers went to his back. She smiled up at him again, and his heart literally flipped over in his chest. God, she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. She was perfect, every bit of her five-foot, eight inch, one hundred fifty-pound frame. Her tan skin, light green eyes, cupid’s bow lips, and golden-blonde hair. She’d invaded his heart, mind, and soul ever since she’d come into his life; he’d never been the same since. One day he was going to confess it to her.

  Every single day since Hunt had passed, his words echoed through Brett’s mind, “This is your second chance.” It’d been like a mantra inside his head, and although the selfish part of him wanted it more than anything, the Christian side of him was hesitant. He knew if he did move in and take what he’d always wanted, it needed to be slow and sure. He couldn’t rush this, couldn’t rush Madi’s grief…or his own, for that matter. He’d always been patient, and he would have to continue to be.

  Madi’s head now rested on his chest, his other hand wrapped around her as their feet continued to move to the song. They embraced each other tightly, and Brett reveled in the feel of her against him. Their hearts beat in cadence together, in perfect sync, and her smell was intoxicating him as it always had. As many times as he’d held her over the years, this was the first time it felt so bittersweet. This was his best friend’s wife and Brett was here instead of Hunter, here to hold her and touch her and kiss her.

  Now, Hunter’s dead because you were the one driving.

  Once more, Brett wondered if he’d ever get rid of the all-consuming guilt that never seemed to leave him. He felt Madi shudder and moved a hand to stroke her hair, kissing her temple as he leaned his head down.

  “Shh, it’s ok, Sunflower.”

  She pulled him tighter to her, fisting his shirt, her frame fitting perfectly against his much bigger one. At six foot five inches tall and almost two-fifty he towered over her like the damn Hulk. He was one of the biggest QBs in the league, which had garnered him the nickname “Brickhouse.” Then Trav had come along and dubbed him Zeus.

  Madi’s tears were starting to trouble him, the need to comfort and protect her stronger than any emotion he’d ever had.

  “Baby, what’s the matter?” he murmured against her ear even as he laid his head onto hers.

  After a few minutes of composing herself, she wiped her face and looked up at him, her cheeks rosy. “You’re the best friend I’ve ever had, and I’ve been awful to you lately.”

  Brett couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at the corner of his mouth. “Nah.”

  Her insistent nod said otherwise, and he put his finger to her lips before she could speak again. He settled her head back to his collarbone and rested his chin against her shoulder, leaning into her as they continued to shuffle their feet to the music.

  “I haven’t done anything you wouldn’t have done for me. It’s what best friends do. We take care of each other, kick the other’s tail into shape when needed, and help bury bodies of our enemies.”

  He heard Madi smirk into his shirt and sniffle.

  When the song was over, she pulled back and took his face in her hands. “I mean it. You’re my best friend. And you’ll never know what you being here means to me. I love you.”

  His heart sputtered. They’d said these words to each other so many times, even though she was clueless as to how much he meant them and how. “I love you too, Sunflower. Always and forever.” He pulled her back to him for a hug, and she gripped him tightly.

  Oh, Madi, will I ever get to show you just what you mean to me? In time… I will, in time.

  CHAPTER THREE

  “Mad, Jesus… I thought Brett had locked you up in a tower. You didn’t answer your phone or…” Brooke trailed off as Madi pulled her to her for a hug. Her sister. Her clueless, crazy sister.

  “I missed you,” Madi stated and kissed her baby sister’s nose.

  Brooke’s eyes misted over, and she grinned. “It’s good to have you back, sis.”

  “Ah, there’s our girl,” Madi heard her dad call over Brooke’s head. She moved from her sister’s embrace to her father’s, squeezing him tightly as his big frame comforted her. “You look great, honey.” He took her cheeks in his hands and kissed her forehead before releasing her.

  “You look awful,” Madi’s mother replied with a hand on her hip and a scowl back at Brett.

  “Mom, I’m fine. I—”

  “You are not fine. You’ve lost too much weight.” Her mother approached and grabbed at Madi’s dress.

  Madi counted to ten before responding. Her mother never had anything go wrong in her life, let alone a death that caused the world to stop spinning. Brett had been right, no one understood what she’d gone through. She gave her mother a bright smile, despite wanting to slap her and tell her to chill the hell out.

  Madi hadn’t wanted to eat, she hadn’t wanted to live, she hadn’t wanted to do anything…except die, herself. How could she possibly express that to anyone? It was embarrassing. It made her feel insane. And yet it made every bit of sense. She imagined how her mother would feel if the same thing were to happen to her father; no, Amelia Taylor would continue to be stoic, unshakeable, oblivious to anything that rattled her tough outer exterior. And Madi felt shame, on to
p of all the other emotions that her soul had been consumed with since Brett told her of Hunter’s demise almost three weeks ago. Had it really been three weeks already?

  Amelia drew her in for a hug, tight and emotional. She pulled back and her hard, green eyes pierced Madi’s soul as her mother whispered softly but intensely, “You’ve got to snap out of this, you hear me? It was a horrible accident. I’m sorry it happened, but life must go on now. Alright?”

  Madi swallowed and nodded. Her mother had always given her girls tough love and death was no exception. She’d always wanted them to be strong, self-sufficient, not needing any man to “save” them. There’s no such thing as a knight on a white horse. You want a hero, become your own. Her mother’s principles stemmed from a mother who’d had husband after husband—yes, Madi’s grandmother had had six—and seeing the damage of heartbreak tear Grandma Kate in two.

  Madi’s mother had always been a woman of doing, her accomplishments exceeding beyond what her husband had made possible for her. She was a woman of class, a woman of God, a woman of great undertakings. Amelia took on the world with speeches, books, and inspired others across the globe. It was her thing.

  Madi knew this and tried not to let her mother’s words hurt her.

  “Brett, a word,” her mother stated as she took Brett’s hand and led him into the kitchen and out of earshot.

  Madi’s father smiled at her sudden unease and pulled her back to him, kissing her forehead. “She’s just worried about you. You know your mother; the show must go on. I swear she should’ve been a drill-sergeant. She’d have made a hell of a fine one.”

  Madi and Brooke laughed at him as he moved them into the den for some cocktails. Madi nodded when Brooke asked if she wanted a cosmo.

  “How are you holding up, Sunshine?” her dad asked as he took her hand and sat her down in the arm chair next to his.

  “I’m doing better than I was.” She wouldn’t mention that she hadn’t bathed until just this morning when Brett had literally dragged her ass from the bed and into the shower, screaming in protest.