Chapter One #2
I passed by large residences set back from the road, their lights twinkling in the night sky.
I opened the door to my new home, set my duffel on the wide-plank floor of the living room, and stood for a moment to get my bearings.
The wind had picked up, and I smiled in anticipation of a roaring blaze in the big stone fireplace that sat catty-corner in the great room.
There had to be a game on somewhere that I could watch on my big-screen TV.
My footsteps echoed in the room, reminding me I’d be watching that game alone.
The isolation was my fault—I’d known this day was coming but had never planned for it. Being set for life with money didn’t guarantee happiness if you had no one to share it with and no reason to get up in the morning.
“No black dog tonight,” I muttered to myself. “It’s too beautiful here to be depressed.”
I’d picked out neutral furniture, but the walls remained bare.
I’d have to get some pictures and knickknacks to brighten it up.
Dark wooden beams offset the pale-yellow walls, and the kitchen had light maple cabinets and a wide marble island.
I didn’t cook, but I did like my coffee, and I was happy to see my brand-new machine sitting on the counter, waiting to be initiated.
I left my bag in the hall and wandered about the rooms, grateful for the service I’d hired.
They’d set up the furniture I’d ordered, cleaned the inside of any dust, and took care of the outside grounds.
Now what I really needed was that beautiful cup of hot coffee.
Heat had warmed the cabin nicely, but nothing hit like a jolt of caffeine.
And maybe a shot of whiskey along with it.
I fixed the machine and poured a full mug after it brewed. I opened the refrigerator, and my stomach did a nosedive.
Fuck.
No milk.
“Dammit,” I swore and huffed out a sigh. “Better go before the snow gets worse.”
Flakes had begun to fall by the time I’d picked up my rental and driven from the Albany airport.
Now, returning to the driveway, I had to brush off an ugly coating of heavy, wet snow from the windshield and rear window.
Growing up where the white stuff was measured in feet, not inches, should’ve made driving in it no big deal for me, but these were pitch-black unfamiliar roads in a vehicle I wasn’t used to, and I was a little nervous.
I’d already skidded a few times on the drive over.
I’d gotten soft and was used to living in the city and being driven everywhere. Back to the regular life for me…
“Just take it slow,” I lectured myself and started the engine. The halogen headlights beamed bright, and the wipers ran at full speed. The signs stated the speed limit was 40mph, but I didn’t dare go above 25.
I breathed a sigh of relief when I pulled into the parking lot of Marvin’s General Store and saw the lights on. Wheeling my shopping cart, I wandered through the aisles, picking up the milk, some bread and cheese, microwaved dinners and frozen pizza, beer and assorted junk food.
“Single man’s paradise, huh?” A tall, good-looking man walked past, tipping his head at my stash.
My grin was wry. “What gave it away?”
“It looks a lot like mine.”
I peered into his wagon, and it was almost identical.
“Guess we have similar tastes,” I said, and the man’s gaze grew intent. I sensed…something. A connection. My face grew warm.
“Maybe?”
Knowing I was bisexual and acting on it were two entirely different things.
I’d been faithful to Maya, and even after our divorce, I hadn’t dated much.
I’d never had the guts to do what Patrick Sloane had—come out while playing and stay in the game.
While we were teammates, I’d had a little crush on him, but he’d been busy fighting his own inner battles and had never noticed.
I’d sensed he’d had a secret and was happy he was now able to live his true life with the man he loved.
A shiver of fear ran through me. I wanted to know what it would be like with a man, yet I was scared to death. Of what, I couldn’t say, because I’d watched Dev and Brody, then Patrick and Fallon, so in love and simply living their lives.
“I’d better get going. Snow’s getting heavier, and I’m not familiar with the roads yet.” I wheeled my cart toward the checkout line.
“You just moved here?” the man asked, following and standing behind me. I was a pretty big guy at 6’2 and 220 pounds, but he was slightly bigger.
“Yeah. Off Deer Run Drive.”
“Nice area.” His lips kicked up for a moment under a neatly trimmed beard, and I caught the whiteness of his smile.
Laugh lines fanned out from his blue-gray eyes.
The zipper of his parka was partly pulled down, revealing a broad chest, and while I couldn’t see the rest of his body, I imagined he was muscular and strong and…
Shut up, Harte. Mind out of the gutter.
I pushed my cart to the register and began to take the items out and put them on the belt.
The cashier rang them up, chatting all the way.
She wore a bright-red sweater with reindeer and peppermint candy-cane earrings dangled from her lobes.
It was like a scene from a holiday movie with the store all decked out in Christmas kitsch.
The holiday was only weeks away. Gloom descended over me as I realized I had no one to decorate a tree or even share a Christmas dinner with.
“That’ll be eighty-five dollars and sixty-three cents.” She took my credit card. “You’re new, ain’tcha?”
I nodded. “Yeah. Just moved in.”
She glanced at the name on my card. “Harte McKinney. Why does that sound familiar?” She handed it to me.
“I used to play football,” I answered with a slight pain in my chest. It still hurt saying that.
“Damn good quarterback too,” the man behind me said, and my stomach sank.
“Well, thanks, but those days are gone.” My lips curved upward briefly. “Good night.” I wheeled my things outside, where the snow was now coming thick and fast. I loaded up the back, brushed off the snow, and started for home.
My hands clutched the wheel in a death grip as I crept along the snowy road. Other drivers, way more comfortable with the lousy weather, swept past me, spraying slush on my windshield. The wipers swished at a furious pace, but I was freaking out.
“I can’t see a damn thing. I’m going to kill myself, all because I needed some fucking milk.
” My heart hammered, and I breathed in short pants.
Headlights blinded me from the opposite side of the road, I skidded and spun out, but instead of gently tapping the brake and steering into the skid, panic overrode my senses, and I jammed my foot down.
Hard. I sat helpless as the fence off the side of the road came up to greet me.
I smashed into the wall of wood, and the airbag deployed, squashing my face. Pain rocketed up my cheeks and the side of my body, and I couldn’t move. Trapped, I moaned, my head against the airbag covering the steering wheel.
I don’t know how long I sat there—long enough for the numbness from the cold to creep through me. My toes grew numb. A faint siren wailed in the distance, and in my peripheral vision, red-and-blue lights flashed.
“Don’t move,” a voice called out from the snowy darkness. “We’ve got an ambulance coming.”
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to,” I mumbled. “And I don’t really want to.”
Soon, a team of firefighters arrived at the same time as the ambulance. They opened the car door.
“Can you move your legs?” one of them asked.
I struggled to wiggle my toes, then moved the rest of my lower extremities. “Yeah. They’re just very cold.”
“Good.”
They cut off the seat belt, and searing, red-hot fire raced up my side. “Ow, fuck, that hurts.” I couldn’t draw a deep breath without pain.
One of the paramedics steadied me. “You might have broken some ribs. Try not to move. We’ll put you on a board, secure your neck to make sure, and take you to the hospital.”
“Great.” Blood ran down my face, and my head pounded. Probably a concussion. I’d been sacked often enough in my career to recognize the signs.
Another car pulled up, lights flashing on the roof. I heard murmured voices but couldn’t concentrate. Everything hurt, and all I wanted was to stop the pain.
“Okay, sir, can you tell me your name?”
“Harte,” I whispered. “Harte McKinney.”
“The football player?”
“Yeah,” I responded, hoping I wouldn’t have to talk about the game. I loved the fans but not with my blood splattered everywhere.
“Okay, Mr. McKinney. Hold still, and we’ll get you out of there in a minute.”
They brought a stabilizing board, which I’d only seen on the field whenever a player was badly hurt. As horrible as it might seem, I’d always been glad it wasn’t me. Maybe karma had come to bite me in the ass.
With care, the two paramedics slid me onto the stretcher and put a neck brace on me.
“Oh God, that fucking hurts.”
“Once we’re in the ambulance, we’ll take your vitals and give you something for the pain. They’ll take you to X-ray once we get to the hospital.”
“Thanks.”
The thickly falling snow coated us as I was loaded into the ambulance, and I shivered violently under the blanket they threw over me. I couldn’t stop my teeth from chattering.
“Wh-what’s wr-wrong with me?”
“Shock and adrenaline crash.” A blood-pressure cuff squeezed my arm.
The sirens whooped, and we were off. I might’ve passed out, because I had no idea where I was when I next opened my eyes. I blinked and attempted to raise my hand.
“Ow, ow, fuck,” I cursed. Machines beeped, and I discovered IVs attached to my arm. Nurses and doctors rushed past, treating other patients. My lips felt swollen, and my nose hurt. Maybe that was broken as well. I sighed deeply.
“Glad you’re finally awake,” a somewhat familiar voice said. “You were beginning to worry us.”
“Who’s there?” I asked, irritated that, because of the neck brace, I couldn’t move my head to see. Maybe it was a fallback from my years as a player, but I hated not knowing who was to my right or left.
“Sorry.” A tall, broad figure stepped in front of me, and I squinted. Short, golden-brown hair, a rugged face with a neat beard. My head throbbed from trying to remember. And then it clicked.
“Wait…aren’t you the man I spoke to in the supermarket?”
His lips kicked up in a faint smile. “I am. So we can say there’s no fear of memory loss.” He drew up a chair and settled his bulk next to my bed. Concerned blue-gray eyes met mine. “What happened?”
“It was the snow. It’s been years since I’ve had to drive in such bad weather, and I thought I was taking it slow, but a truck barreled past and his lights blinded me. I skidded and…well…” I waved my hand. “Here I am. But what’re you doing here? And what’s your name, anyway?”
“My name’s Jet. I’m a deputy sheriff, and when I heard on my radio about the accident, I called for an ambulance and drove here. I had no idea it was you.”
Exhausted, I closed my eyes. “Thank you.”
“So. Harte McKinney from the Brooklyn Kings.”
Surprising tears blurred my vision. Embarrassed, I winced, pretending it was from the pain of my injuries and not the fact that I was lost and alone.
“Yeah. That’s me. Except I’m no longer part of the team.”
“You were a good player. I watched you. I played college ball, but not well enough for the pros.”
With a bit of effort, I turned my torso slightly and eyed him. “What position?”
“Quarterback.”
Two men, one in a white coat and the other in blue scrubs, stopped by my bed. “Mr. McKinney?” the shorter man in the white coat verified, gazing at the clipboard he picked up from the base of my bed. “I’m Dr. Lewis. We’ll send you up to X-ray now and see what’s happening with you.”
“Good. I’d like to know myself.”
The man in the scrubs smiled at me. “I’m Mark, your nurse. Can I get you some water?” He wheeled the tray table bedside; on it a plastic pitcher sat along with a cup. “Finest vintage available.”
The attempt at humor failed with me. The aches and pains had coalesced into one big agonizing misery from my head to my toes. “No, I’m fine, thanks.” I shifted and winced. “How long have I been here?”
“About an hour,” Jet answered and took out his phone. “Is there anyone I can call for you? Wife, girlfriend? I’m sure they must be worried, and I can have them picked up in a squad car and brought here for you.”
Did I sense more than a work-related interest in my living arrangements? I hadn’t forgotten the vibe I’d picked up from him in the supermarket. If I were interested in taking that step, I suspected he would be happy to help me. Although, now it would be more like a limp.
I met his eyes. “No. There’s no one.”