Half an hour later, she’d soaked until she was pruney, trying to relax her mind and name all the things she had left despite her husband’s death—Brett, her friends, her family, her job. All the things she loved. She was starting to go from the denial and depression phase of her grieving process and swing into the acceptance part. Although she felt she hadn’t quite turned the curve yet, it wasn’t as far away as she’d originally thought. Coming here to Cancun was a good idea, getting out of that house was a good idea, Brett had been right. Fresh air cleared her mind; while her heart was still heavy missing Hunter, she felt lighter. Her mood could be contributed to the margaritas she’d housed and the hot bath but, whatever the case, she felt better and her eyes less puffy than they’d been in days.
Madison got out of the tub and dried off, applied a coconut lotion of Val’s she’d left there and inhaled it, loving the scent as it invaded her nostrils. It was the epitome of beach, sand, and sun and made her smile. She dressed in the shorts and tank top she’d left out for herself before exiting the bathroom.
She stopped dead in her tracks when she saw a half-naked Brett McFadden standing beside the bed. He’d been in the process of undressing when she interrupted. She gulped but couldn’t still her eyes from taking in his massive frame: broad chest, toned arms, sculpted torso. Her eyes moved to the unzipped pants now falling down his legs and blue boxers, boxers that looked tiny on his muscular thighs and tapered hips. Her eyes came back to his chest. She’d forgotten how big he was, or better yet, not realized how big he was—he’d not been this big in college, had he?
Madi realized she was gaping and focused her eyes on the painting of surfboards to her left. God, how had she missed all those bulking muscles of his, those chiseled bands of thick coils covering every manly inch of him? And why was she suddenly so aroused?
It’s because I’m on my period, she told herself. I’m lonely, I—
She’d only been with one man, her husband. And now he was gone, and she was simply admiring another man’s physique. A man who also happened to be her and her husband’s best friend. A man she’d once loved. A man she still wanted—Oh lord. Who couldn’t want a stud that looked like that? She’d be crazy not to want him.
“I-I’m sorry,” she stammered, realizing Brett hadn’t moved, not even an inch.
“It’s ok,” cool and collected Brett said. How was he not as rattled as she was? How was that even possible? Brett moved into the bed and pulled the covers up, but only to his waist—Damn him. “I’m in.”
Oh shit! He’s gonna sleep in only his boxers? Madi’s mind reeled. What would happen if he cuddled her? She would feel those hard muscles on his torso naked against her back. Had they slept that way the last few times? And how in God’s sweet name could she possibly not remember!
“You comin’, Madi?” Brett questioned. Madi was sure she appeared to be having a stroke, from an outsider’s perspective, blinking rapidly and freezing in one spot only to move to another.
“Yeah, I uh, I thought I forgot something.”
“All you need is me, Sunflower, and I’m right here.”
She frowned again and looked over at him. He continued to say these things that confused her, things she didn’t understand.
“Mad, baby, are you alright?” he asked again and turned, the big muscles in his throwing arm rippling with his movement.
I want to fuck the shit out of my best friend right now. No, I am indeed not alright.
She took a deep breath in and moved toward the bed. It was nerves, hormones, lack of sleep, trauma, guilt, grief. She ran through an entire list in her head of all the things this was, the emotions she’d been feeling since Hunter died, that’s all it was, new emotions, new life, new…
But as Brett moved in behind her and pulled her into him, she felt peace, a serene knowing in her heart that she was right where she was supposed to be, in his solid, comforting arms.
Her thoughts quieted, her breathing slowed and she surrendered to the valiant knight who’d rescued her long ago.
“Hi, I’m Madi,” a seven-year-old Madison Hope Taylor smiled to the tall, handsome boy. He looked nervous but handsome all the same. No-nonsense emerald eyes, light brown hair, lips tight. His face was oval-shaped, and she immediately pointed to the ball cap atop his head. It was their logo, the Gladiators, the team her father now owned and had for the last month. “I have one just like it.”
That got a smile out of the quiet boy, whose perfectly straight white teeth made him even more handsome.
“Madi, this is Brett, Drew’s oldest son. You’ll be seeing a lot of one another. Drew’s going to be working alongside me as our general manager.”
“Will he go to school with me?” Madi asked.
“He will indeed. He’s going to be in the second grade at Chesham Elementary,” Mr. Drew stated with a smile.
“That’s where I go!”
“I knew you’d be thrilled,” her father said.
Brett looked up at his father and gave him a frown. “Dad, she’s—she’s a girl.”
Drew and her father had a good laugh about that. “Son,” Drew stated, “one day, you’re gonna like girls, a whole lot. I promise.”
“You don’t like girls?” Madi’s brows furrowed. Her father stepped up behind her and took her shoulders, but Brett answered her with, “It’s not that. I just—”
“Brett,” Madi’s father ruffled the tall boy’s hair. “Why don’t you two go out to the field and throw the ball around? Let Madi show you what she likes to do for fun.” Her
