False Start (Red Zone Rivals, #5)

by Kandi Steiner

To the survivors. This one’s for you.

I wondered how big his cock was.

He was insanely tall, at least six-foot-seven, but built like a tank. His waist was lean somehow, but his shoulders broad, his arms thick and corded with muscle that strained against the fabric of his shirt. He wore a pair of light-gray joggers that stretched over thick thighs, thighs I didn’t have to study long to know were just as muscular as his arms. He also didn’t have to turn around for me to know he likely had an ass to match. His hair was hidden under a beanie, but I imagined it matched the brown of the stubble lining his jaw. That wasn’t oops I forgot to shave stubble, either. It was purposeful, neatly trimmed, the kind of stubble that drove a woman mad if she thought about what it would feel like brushing her neck. My neck heated with that thought, one I hadn’t had in years, a feeling I thought was dead stirring to life deep in my gut. The man was dripping in sex appeal, from his casual attire to his hot sports car. And though I wanted to be immune to it, I wasn’t.

When he slowly took his sunglasses off, I understood why. Eyes as bright blue as the hottest flames of a fire stared back at me, sheltered under thick, dark brows and lashes that had once made me jealous. I’d know those eyes anywhere. And the sight of them after all this time made me rip my hand back like I’d been electrocuted.

And the bastard smiled. “Hello, Madelyn,” he said. And every memory of Kyle Robbins washed over me like a torrential rainstorm.

She was standing small, like she was afraid to lift her chin, like she wanted to shrink away and not be seen. I knew what it was like to see a woman shrink in on herself, to try to become invisible. I’d seen my mother do it all my life. This wasn’t the Madelyn I knew.

And more than any of that, I wanted to hold her. I wanted to pull her into me, brush her copper hair from her face and ask what happened to my girl — because she wasn’t here now.

“Don’t tell me you don’t remember me,” I said, arching a brow. “You’ve never been pretty when you lie.”

“Of course, I remember you,” she said weakly.

So, I made it my mission to break the poor girl they chose to be my caretaker. Unfortunately, it was her who broke me in the end.

She didn’t peg me with an insult three times as good as mine the way she so easily used to. Instead, she shrank even more in on herself, looking down at her shoes with her cheeks tingeing pink in embarrassment. And I instantly felt like an asshole.

“You want me to be your agent?” “Well, it beats the hell out of you being my babysitter.”

“That way neither of us wastes our time.” “Is that your subtle way of telling me I wasted yours?” “You’re a big boy. Figure it out.” “There she is,” I said

“I thought I lost you there,” I teased. “All that looking at your shoes shit isn’t the Madelyn I used to know.”

“The Madelyn you used to know no longer exists.”

Me: I don’t have time to write you an essay. Madelyn: Make time, or find another agent. Me: There she is.

Clay: Don’t make any plans for next weekend. The text came through before a photo of Giana — my agent, his girlfriend — holding up her hand. I didn’t have to look hard to see it now sported a very large diamond ring.

“Madelyn,” he greeted, his voice a rumbling promise. “You look beautiful.”

If I feel like you’re wasting it, I will drop you faster than an old picture frame with a nest of baby spiders on it.” “What a visual,” he teased,

“Do you have time to commit to seeing houses?” Kyle’s eyes flicked between mine. “Whatever spare time I have is yours.”

“Good. Now, I have a few questions.” “So do I.”

Right now, they leaned more in the deep blue direction, and they searched mine like he saw right through me.

He always had. “You’re married.” “That isn’t a question,” I pointed out. “Your last name is different, but you don’t have a ring on your finger.” I covered my left knuckles like I had something to hide. “Very observant, but still not a question.” “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“And if my actual family ever comes, I need a room on the opposite side of the house from me to stick them in so I can avoid them at all costs.”

He had a lot of balls to have that reaction, since the last time he’d found out I was pregnant, he’d left me. I licked my lips on a laugh, slinging my purse over my shoulder. “Yep. And before you ask, no, he isn’t yours.”

That made Kyle frown. “Why would I assume that?” I closed my eyes, forcing a breath. Of course, he wouldn’t assume I kept our child. I was just eighteen when he left. He was sixteen, for fuck’s sake. We were both still kids ourselves.

The truth was that I fell to the floor in the bathroom, covering my mouth and shaking my head, convinced I wasn’t actually seeing those two lines.

Then, we were something… more. He was my first everything — first love, first intimate partner, first heartbreak. Now, I hoped he’d be my first break in years. He held the key to my new life in his hands, whether he knew it or not.

Braden: Correction — Mary is daddy. Leo is just shitstain.

Her copper hair was straight today, and the morning light off that lake warmed the gold in her brown eyes. Fuck, she was beautiful.

But then my eyes caught on her left arm, on the dark coloring of skin above her watch. There were four bruises. And there was no mistaking they were from a hand. “So, let’s cross this one off. I think the next—” “Who did that to you?”

“Oh, stop it,” she tried, waving me off. “You know how clumsy I am. I just—” “I swear to fucking God, Madelyn, if you try to tell me you fell and bruised your arm in the shape of a hand—”

“Look at me,” I whispered. I didn’t miss how her eyes welled with tears, but her nose flared despite them, her chin lifting and eyes finding mine in defiance. “I’m fine.” “Who hurt you?” “I’m not hurt.” “Who,” I repeated, slower this time, the strain evident in my voice as I tried to keep my cool. “Did this?” She sighed, shaking her head and looking away from me. Then, she rolled her lips together, eyes falling to the binder. “My ex.”

He looked like I’d just thrown a bucket of ice water over his head. Kyle stood frozen for a long moment, and then he nodded, over and over, like I’d just told him the NFL schedule for the year, and not that I had bruises on my arm from my stupid ex-husband. His eyes found mine, and I thought I saw them break before they hardened into stone. “He’s dead.”

Kyle was already turning for the exit, key fob in hand and shoulders tight as a bow string. But I reached out for him, my hand catching him by the crook of the elbow. The moment our skin touched, fire licked along my spine, a thousand memories racing to be the first to reach me. But I snuffed them out, focusing on the matter at hand.

“Don’t,” I begged, voice cracking a bit. That only pissed me off, and I blew out a frustrated breath. “I’m serious when I say he didn’t hurt me. I’m fine. But if you go acting like a big tough guy with a savior complex, you’re going to make it a lot worse.” He spun to face me. “He can’t be worse if he’s not fucking breathing.” I sucked my teeth, letting my hands fall against my thigh with a slap. “You sound like an absolute brute right now.” I left out that it was annoyingly hot as hell. “Your ex-husband bruised you,” he pointed out, slowly and with punctuation like I was ignorant. “I am aware,” I shot back. “I am also aware that yo...

“I got out,” I said. “But unfortunately, the state doesn’t think I have enough proof to keep a well-respected veterinarian from his son. So yes, occasionally, I have to put up with his drunken temper. And yes, sometimes, he gets in a mark. But I am not a victim. I am a survivor, and these stupid bruises on my arm don’t mean shit other than that there was a situation and I fucking handled it. So, if you would kindly back out of my personal business, we can get back to finding you a house. Okay?”

“I’m sorry.” “Look at me when you say it.”

I was sent to straighten him out. I was halfway to it. And then I had to go and fall in love with him.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, his blue flame eyes locked on mine this time. “Not for wanting to kill his punk ass,” he clarified, holding up one finger. “But for thinking you need anyone, least of all me, to save you.”

“As I was saying, the next house—” “Let me help you.” I looked up at the ceiling before letting my hand slap against my thigh. “Didn’t we just arrive at the conclusion that I don’t need your help?” “I said you didn’t need saving,” he said, his voice dropping an octave.

“Everyone needs help sometimes, Mads.”

“How much?” I blinked my eyes open. “How much what?” “How much do you need to be free of him?” And just like that — all the ooey gooeyness was gone. I scoffed, pushing past him. “Wow.” “I’m serious,”

“Because I’ll light you on fire and dance in the ashes. I am not a weak, helpless thing. I can handle myself. And if you respect me at all, you’ll honor this.”

Kyle’s nose flared, his lips curling into a devilish smile. Something told me he liked that tone I used.

“I understand,” he finally said. “But I have a proposal.” I arched a brow. “Business,” he clarified, holding his hands up in surrender before I could even aim. I looked at my watch, then back at him. “We have thirty minutes until this next showing, which means we need to be on the road in ten. Talk fast.” “Date me.”

“Hear me out,” he said before I could tell him to take a hike. “I understand you wanting to take care of yourself. I know better than most people that you can do it, too,” he added. “But I haven’t seen you in years, Madelyn. Isn’t it kind of crazy that we would bump into each other on the opposite side of the country the way we did?”

He inched closer, taking up even more oxygen when he did. “I want to protect you — whether you need it or not. And I feel like I was put here to do that. If your ex is going to be in your life, he’s going to respect you.” He paused. “And Sebastian.”

“My proposal is that, from here on out, until we close on a house — you’re my girlfriend to everyone who isn’t you and me. No one else knows the truth but us.”

“I get to do my part in keeping your…” He swallowed, jaw tense, and then chose his words carefully. “Ex in line. I get to keep you and Sebastian out of harm’s way. And you pretend to be my girlfriend so my friends will lay off the jokes and take me seriously for once.”