2

The flight attendant spoke quietly to White. Then turned to Kral and held out her hand.

Kral rolled his eyes and passed her the pillow. “Was just fucking with you, kid. You don’t gotta cry about it.”

Several players were standing in the aisle now. They moved as the most levelheaded of them all, Max Perron, made his way up to Kral’s side. His voice was low, thick with his Texas accent, but carried clearly as he put a heavy hand on Kral’s shoulder. “Was the last thing his dad gave him before he got killed in the mines. Ratty old thing, but means a lot. He’s had it since he was eight. You’re smarter than this, man.”

“Shit, I didn’t know.” Kral hunched his shoulders and stared down at his hands. “Why didn’t you say something, Bruiser?”

“Don’t fucking pity me, just stay away from my shit.” White rubbed his eyes with a fist and turned to the flight attendant. “I’m sorry, ma’am. I’ll go sit over there.” He pointed to the empty seats near the front of the plane. “Won’t cause no more trouble.”

“I’d appreciate that.” The flight attendant smiled and followed White to his new seat. She handed him the pillow. “It’s a tiny tear. Do you have someone who can fix it for you?”

White shook his head. “Grandma’s got arthritis bad.”

“Well, I’m with you boys when you head home from Miami. Would you let me take care of it?”

Tim grinned when White nodded with a hesitant smile. All the players were sitting and behaving, so he could keep his attention on the kid. And the sweet lady taking care of his boy.

Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a bun, but wavy tendrils framed her face, softening the neat updo. Everything about her seemed soft, from her rounded cheeks and sweet, plump lips, to the thick black eyelashes around her big brown eyes. She wore a crisp, dark blue uniform, all proper with the skirt hitting just above her knees, but her full, curvy figure had a luscious appeal that made him wonder how she’d feel in his arms. She laughed at something White said and the sound drew Tim closer to her.

The plane jolted, making the floor beneath his feet became unsteady as he reached her side. He wet his lips with his tongue when she looked over at him, not sure what the hell he was going to say to her, but needing to say something. He wanted to make her laugh again, wanted to use the time on the long flight to get to know more than her name.

Her name… He glanced down at the badge on her chest. Madeline.

“Sir, are you quite all right?”

She grabbed his arm as the plane shuddered, and he put his hand on her waist to steady her. A melodic ding sounded as the seat-belt light flicked on.

White cleared his throat. “Coach?”

Quiet, boy! Tim rarely lost his patience with his players, but in this moment, he needed to be left alone. With Madeline. “One minute, White.”

“You might want to sit down, brother. And let the lady do her job.”

Tim frowned, turning slightly as Dean Richter, the team’s general manager, spoke up behind him. His half brother usually either slept through flights or used the time to catch up on paperwork. Since Dean hadn’t interceded during White and Kral’s little scuffle, Tim had figured he’d been sleeping.

Madeline’s big brown eyes opened wide. She stared at Dean, her pale cheeks going pink when Dean’s gaze shifted to her. Dean studied her face, the edge of his lips tipping up as he reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “I appreciate how well you handled the children.”

“Hey!” White folded his pillow against the window, scowling as he propped his head on it. “I ain’t a damn child.”

Both Dean and Madeline ignored the rookie. And Tim.

Not all that surprising—women tended to forget him fairly quickly when Dean showed up. His brother had an aura of power and authority that couldn’t be ignored. It didn’t usually bother Tim since the type of women ready to kneel at his brother’s feet didn’t interest him at all. And with the way Madeline’s lips moved as though Dean’s presence made speaking difficult, she was clearly one of those.

He gave them both a stiff nod and slid into the seat beside White.

White shifted around like he was trying to get comfortable. He sat up straight when Dean and Madeline moved farther back in the plane, watched them for a bit, then shook his head. “Damn, you gonna let your brother cockblock you like that, Rowe? Call her back over and ask her for some peanuts or something.”

“Peanuts?” Tim arched a brow at the rookie, rolling his eyes as the kid shrugged and looked over the back of his seat. “You’re gonna lose your tough guy card if you start trying to play cupid.”

“Maybe, but she’s nice. And the GM ain’t been nice since his wife walked out on him.”

This was true. The divorce had been finalized only two months earlier, yet the marriage had been over for years. Dean hadn’t had many lovers since, and all were submissives who wouldn’t dare ask him for more than a single night of pleasure. And most seemed to find that more than enough. His brother was an intense Dom, but he had nothing of himself left to give.

No, he did give of himself to his family. His fourteen-year-old daughter, Jami, was his whole world and there was nothing Dean wouldn’t do for her. And Tim knew very well Dean would back off the woman if he showed any interest in her.

Maybe peanuts are a good idea after all.

But the captain’s voice came out over the speakers, asking for the flight attendant to take her seat and buckle up. Tim kept his eyes on Madeline as she waited for Dean to settle in and then headed to the front of the plane. She met his gaze while strapping herself into the jump seat and flashed them a bracing smile as the plane began to shudder.