She looked up at him, fear darkening her Caribbean blue-green eyes, and he gulped. She looked down at herself, her trim frame pounds lighter and small enough to cause concern. She lifted her shirt, looking down at her thin belly, and Brett could have sworn aloud. She wasn’t emaciated by any means, but her healthy body looked hungry. He blamed himself.
Amelia had come by two days ago and threatened to have Madi committed into psychiatric care if she didn’t get out of bed. Brett told her to give him by the weekend. Madi was still eating and drinking, and he swore he’d get her up and showered…and out of the house. He hadn’t told Amelia his plans to take her to Mexico. But he believed it was for the best. This house was making things worse for Madison.
“Do you need me to bathe you?” he asked in all seriousness. He knew it wouldn’t be easy for him to see her fully naked and be able to control his arousal, but he would do whatever needed to be done to get the woman he loved back to reality.
Again, those eyes bore into his, and she finally shook her head. “No. I…I’ll bathe. I—”
“Alright. I’ll step out and give you some privacy, then.” He nodded and released her, closing the shower door behind him as he stepped out. “Take your pajamas off and hand them over. I’m gonna go start a load of clothes.”
He turned his back to the glass shower door and lowered his eyes, for there was a large mirror in front of him behind the vanity. He wouldn’t have been able to see her despite that since he towered over her by almost a foot, but still, Brett McFadden was a gentleman and would never disrespect Madison, no matter what.
She did as he asked, and when she opened the shower door, he grabbed her soaking wet clothes and moved to the sink to wring them out.
“I’ll give you a little time to collect yourself. I’ll be downstairs when you’re ready.”
“Wh-where are we going?” Madi asked, apprehension filling her voice.
“I’m getting you out of this house. And well fed today. So dress warm. No arguments. Or I’m taking you to your mom’s, and you know what she’ll do.” Brett couldn’t fight the gruffness of his voice.
He didn’t want to admit how worried he was, or that he’d allowed this to get as out of hand as it had, but he’d never dealt with death before. Not a death like this, anyway; so unexpected and someone so young, a man in the prime of his life. Brett knew grieving took time, but he also hadn’t realized how little Madi was eating or how much she’d shut him and her family out, even though he hadn’t left her side for more than a few hours these last two weeks.
He’d wanted to give her privacy to grieve, and he’d needed his own. They’d spent last week watching TV, reading, or walking the property when they weren’t sitting around attempting to rein in their heartache. He’d spent the night with her every night last week until leaving her bed last Saturday night; he hadn’t offered to return. It had been difficult to do, seeing as he’d gotten used to being in her bed, smelling her hair as he buried his nose into it, feeling her curvy body pressed into his own. He’d awoken every morning to the familiar stiffness between his legs and fought hard to hide it from her, even knowing she had to feel it digging into her hip more often than not. Having her so close made his desire for her worse than it had ever been, and he’d had to relieve himself in the shower on multiple occasions.
But he’d left her bed as much for his own reprieve as to give her time to get used to life without Hunter. Brett had feared Sunday night would bring a panic-stricken Madi to his own bed; he’d left the door open, but much to his surprise, she hadn’t shown up. The selfish side of him wanted to be disappointed, but he knew it was what was best. If they continued to sleep in the same bed together, he’d end up taking her, and right now, their grief consumed them and would destroy any future plans he might have for a relationship with her. No, Madison needed time to heal from the death of her husband. Having sex with Brett would only complicate her feelings—and might drive her away from him. Brett had to be patient, and he would be….as he always had been. It was his greedy cock that couldn’t wait.
He walked down the wooden steps of Madi and Hunter’s immaculate eight-bedroom home, careful to hold Madi’s soaking clothes against his body to prevent dripping. He entered the laundry room that could’ve fit a decent number of his teammates inside. He peeled his own clothes off and turned the dial to the washing machine, poured in some detergent, and started a load. He was naked and walking back up the stairs, noticing that despite the design—soft earthy tones and pictures of Madi and Hunter, her family, Brett, his teammates, and their other friends—how sterile and stark the house felt. Perhaps it was because it was devoid of Hunter’s constant laughter, the noise of their get-togethers, and the happiness that familiarity always invoked. It could simply be that the house was quieter than it had ever been or because there was more sadness filling up the space than it’d ever known.
Brett hopped into the guest room shower and did so quickly. He brushed his teeth, dressed in a blue Henley and jeans, threw some gel in his hair, and sprayed a fair amount of his cologne on. He was always amazed at the amount of clothes he’d always had here. When he wasn’t at his own home or on
