Will Kent, quarterback for the Denver Storm, looked around the Christmas charity event for Denver Memorial Children’s Hospital and asked himself, again, why he’d flown back from Maui early? Oh yeah, because he had to play cupid for his idiot younger brother and leave him to his old high school flame.

Will pasted on a fake smile and scanned the room for his best friends and teammates, Dalton Ruff and Evan Cook. He’d texted them and they’d promised they would be here. The whole team was supposed to be here under mandate of the owner of the team, Cameron Cruz.

Mr. Cruz had been in a bad mood since last Christmas when he’d tragically lost his wife, so nobody wanted to mess with him.

The place was packed with all the who’s who in Denver’s high society and Will wasn’t in the mood to play nice with people he considered fake. He really wasn’t in the mood to answer questions about his shoulder, but the whole team had received pressure to attend and put on a good face for the media.

At this point, with his injury, Will needed to show up and look tough. Image was everything and he needed to convince the world he was fine. Better than fine—ready to play.

Putting a hand on the shoulder he’d injured, he gently massaged it, hating that it still ached at times. Especially when he was feeling stressed. Realizing what he was doing, he sucked in a breath and put his hand down. He began weaving through the sea of people. Dang, he just had to get through this event and then he’d go straight to San Diego to hang out with his brother, Zane, for Christmas week.

The league took Christmas week off and Will wouldn’t lie, he was grateful.

He saw a flicker of a hand and noticed Dalton waving at him from the front table. Of course the front. He bee-lined it for the table.

“Excuse me, Mr. Kent?”

Carson Grim, the Ken doll of the sports reporting world, cut in front of him with his camera guy in tow. “Word had it that you would be out of town for this event tonight. What do you have to say about the rumor going around that Roman Young might come out of retirement next year and take your position as starting quarterback?”

Completely blindsided by this information, Will stopped, stumbling before bracing himself on a chair nearby. “What?”

“Mr. Kent?” Grim held the mic out to him. “What do you have to say about the possibility of being replaced?”

Will had walked on as a free agent three years ago after serving his time in the Navy and he’d helped the Storm win the last two championships. For all intents and purposes, Cameron Cruz, the owner, and Roman Young were tight. This could happen if Will showed an ounce of weakness.

Will rose up, staring into the camera and taking the mic from Grim’s hand. “Listen up, Storm fans, I promise you this—we might be down and out, but what happens when a storm is at its’ worst? Lighting explodes from the sky and pain is brought to the earth.” Adrenaline surged through him. “I’m stronger than ever and ready to face whatever anyone can throw at us.” He pointed into the camera. “I plan on playing next week against the Miami Surf and I promise you…I will bring the pain to Sam Dumont and the Surf.” He made an exploding motion with his hands. “Bam!”

The reporter let out a sardonic laugh. “Pardon me, Mr. Kent, but you seem defensive.”

Sharpened by the beady-eyed reporter’s words, Will felt his cool head slipping. Silence filled him. The same kind of silence that used to fill him when he served on his ship before an impending attack. Putting on a media smile, he narrowed his eyes at Mr. Barbie doll himself. “You know, I would punch you out,” he said, turning to the camera and flashing a wider smile, “because, as I tell the ladies, my hands could be classified as deadly weapons.” He shrugged and tried to look modest. “The thing is, I wouldn’t want to damage that Ken doll jawline now, would I?” He rubbed his own jaw mockingly.

Another rude laugh from the reporter. “Yes, good thing we don’t prosecute in this country for false threats.” He tapped Will’s shoulder. “I think we both know the real threat is that shoulder. I have a source who says you may not play the rest of the season.”

“Don’t touch me!” Will thundered, forgetting his media calm. Forgetting his cool head. Forgetting the place was packed. He yanked back his fist. “You shut your face, Grim!”

Satisfaction filled Grim’s face. He nodded like he was a cop and had just got the drug bust of the year.

Out of the blue, Evan flanked his right side, pulling Will’s fist down. “Hold on there, Grim,” Evan said, giving a media smile of his own. “Tonight’s a night to raise money for the children, not for this. Let’s focus on why we’re here.” Evan hated the media and hated coming to these events, too.

Dalton flanked Will’s other side. The wide receiver was fast and lean, taller than most wide receivers. Not to mention wicked smart and loved sparring with the media. He tsked his tongue. “I didn’t think they were allowing the scum into this party.”

Chase Hawkins took up a position beside Dalton, crossing his arms. The running back was one of their older players, retiring after this season, but he was also tough as nails and always had Will’s back.

Leon Reyes also appeared, in his perfectly cut tux with phone in hand. “Grim, my least favorite reporter. Back off, or I’ll sic all of my Twitter fans on you. They’ve been bored today.”

Will resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Leon played amazing football—he was one of the best tight ends in the league—but he couldn’t keep his mouth shut to save his life.

Grim smiled wider. “Keep talking because you’re all still on camera.”

Evan let out a laugh. “I sure hope so,” he said, turning to Dalton. “What were you just telling me about that reporter you snapped pictures of after the Los Angeles game who was naked in the dressing room with Sheena Turner?”

Grim’s face turned red and he cursed, turning to the cameraman. “We’re going to have to cut that last part.”

Evan lifted his phone, and Will saw that he’d been recording. “Not going to make a difference. This will upload to Instagram the minute you roll any of this on TV or the internet.” He jerked his head toward Dalton. “Not to mention what’s on his phone.”

“Oh, this is good,” Leon said as he typed madly.

Grim looked, for lack of a better word…grim. Annoyance rippled across his face. He crossed his arms at the men in front of him. “Touché.”

Dalton gave a mock salute. “Stay away, Grim, and no one gets the real footage of you and Sheena I got on my phone.”

Grim cursed and nudged the camera guy away from them. “Let’s try over there.”

Will was dumbfounded as Grim walked away and he laughed, turning to his friends, who laughed too. “I’m impressed, boys.”

Before any of them could react, Grim was back, ripping Evan’s phone out of his hand.

Grim’s cameraman easily lifted Dalton’s phone out of his hand, and ran.

“Oh, he did not...” Evan cursed as he and Chase took off after Grim.

Will started after the cameraman.

Unfortunately, the camera guy threw the phone on the ground and stomped on it with his heel.

Just before Will dropped his shoulder and plowed the guy to the ground, he saw Evan doing the same thing to Grim.

Will rolled and Dalton was there, pouncing on top of the camera guy.

The crowd was yelling. Will heard the instant sound of sirens.

Pain flared through his shoulder and all he could think about was how he didn’t need this kind of press.

Will sat in a jail cell with Dalton, Evan, Leon, and Chase. It’d been ridiculous the way Grim and his cameraman had thrown accusations at them like they had been in the wrong. The lead cop had told Will they could come along quietly or he would cuff them. It was their choice.

So they’d gone quietly, knowing Cameron Cruz was going to put them in a world of pain for the bad press coverage tonight. For the last two hours they’d each made their calls to their attorneys and yelled insults at Grim and the other guy in the other cell over.

Now, they sat quietly.

It’d gotten quiet once Grim and his cameraman had been sprung by their wives twenty minutes ago.

The dread of what had just happened and what it could mean to his career swooped over Will. He cursed. “I’m already on Cameron’s bad list and now we have to add this to it.” He turned to Evan. “How long is Cameron supposed to be gone?”

Evan sat up from the bench he’d been laying down on and sighed. “He’s with his sister’s family on some cruise until the day before we play the Surf. He had to get out of Dodge after throwing that reporter to the ground a couple of weeks ago.”

They all fell silent. Cameron had been in a bad mental place the entire year. No one would dispute that losing his wife to a hit and run accident would be hard, but not being able to find the guy who did it, would be even worse. It’d left Cameron erratic and angry most of the time.

Will shook his head. “I’m not going to be the one who talks to him first.”

Standing next to the bars, Dalton turned to them. “Shouldn’t we be out by now?”

An unnerving feeling had swept over Will and he stood from his seat on the cot. “Yeah, we should be out.” He moved next to Dalton. “It feels like we’ve been forgotten.”

For a moment none of them spoke.

Leon sat up and stretched. “I don’t know about you guys, but I haven’t been forgotten.”

Evan joined them at the bars. “Give it a rest, Leon.”

Chase didn’t move. It was like he was in shock. The guy was known as the team preacher. Maybe he was praying for their souls.

More silence. More waiting. More … thinking.

Ever since Will had taken the plane back from Maui he’d been thinking about one thing. About one person. “Isn’t it funny that all of us called our attorneys for our one phone call?” Sad would be a better word, but he didn’t want to kick his guys while they were down.

Evan frowned. “Who else do you call if you go to jail?”

Dalton gave him a grudging nod. “Yeah, man, we gotta get out.”

More silence.

Will turned woodenly back to the bars. “I told you guys about my brother meeting up with a woman he hadn’t seen in ten years. A woman he never thought he’d see again.”

Evan put his back to the bars. So did Dalton.

“Yeah.” Dalton crossed his arms. “How is this going to get us out of here?”

Will let out a soft laugh. “I…I’ve just been thinking about who that woman was for me, ya know?”

Evan nudged him. “Wait, hold on,” he said, being sarcastic. “Is Will Kent actually waxing nostalgic about a woman?”

“What about your ‘policy?’” Dalton air quoted.

Will wasn’t proud of the fact his policy on dating this past year had been never to date the same woman twice. He haughtily tossed his head up. “Like you’re much better.”

Dalton put his hands up. “Hey, you won’t find me thinking about the woman who got away.”

Evan shuddered. “After what happened six months ago, I’ve steered clear of dating.”

“As it says in the first chapter of Genesis, ‘a man… shall cleave unto his wife.’” Chase shook his head sadly. “Someday,” he added wistfully.

Leon snorted. “Someday nothing. If you want something, go and get it.”

Will thought for a moment and clenched his hand into a fist. “We’re pathetic, ya know?”

Evan frowned. “Speak for yourself.”

Will shook his head, then an erratic laugh escaped. “So pathetic!”

Dalton nudged him. “Dude, stop.”

Unable to stop, he pulled away from the bars and turned to face them. “Look at us. We’re pro football players stuck in jail the week before Christmas and no one has come for us!”

Evan rolled his eyes. “Our attorneys are probably still at the charity event.”

Dalton pushed him in the shoulder. “True. That’s it. It’s not a big deal.”

“It’s not?” Will had abruptly turned angry. He gestured to the lock on the cell door. “Grim and his idiot got sprung by their wives.”

“So what?” Evan shrugged. “Who cares about them?”

Will bowed his head and that lost feeling, the one he’d felt the whole plane ride back to Denver increased one hundred fold. “It’s about so much more.”

His friends just stared at him.

“And people say I’m unstable,” Leon said.

“You look like you’re on the verge of a breakdown, dude. Knock it off.” Evan crossed his arms.

Will put his hand up. “I’m just…” he trailed. “Aren’t you just…” he started, but couldn’t get the words out.

“What?” Dalton pushed away from the bars and threw up his hands. “Just say what you need to say.”

“I’m done with it.” Will said, feeling certain.

His friends gave each other worried looks, then turned back to him.

“What, exactly, are you done with?” Evan asked.

Will put laser-like focus on them. “All the women.”

Dalton frowned. “Hmm, that doesn’t sound good.”

Will resisted the urge to flip him off. “I just want one. The right one.”

“True that, brother.” Chase snorted, putting his head in his hands.

Evan laughed. “I don’t think you hurt your shoulder. I think it was your head.”

Any resistance to flipping the bird was now gone. Will turned it to Evan.

The men laughed.

Will gave a tense smile. “Seriously, guys. Think about it. How many hours do we spend memorizing plays?”

“None.” Dalton sputtered. “We know them all.”

Will pursed his lips, unamused. “How many hours have we spent in our whole football careers memorizing plays, analyzing plays, figuring out strategy?”

For a moment none of his friends spoke.

Evan threw up a hand. “Countless.”

Will punched a fist into the air. “Exactly.”

“Your point?” Dalton made a circling gesture with his hand.

“The point is we have brains full of strategy about football, but none when it comes to what matters.”

Evan looked doubtful. “We make a lot of money, bro.”

“Football is life, bud,” Dalton agreed.

“Just…” Will didn’t even know how to get his point across. “It’s Christmas week. And what are you guys doing?”

They hesitated, then Evan said, “Going back to Milwaukee.”

Dalton nodded. “I’m going to Port St. Austen to spend the week with my older brother.”

“Exactly.” Will gestured to both of them. “We’re grown men. I’m twenty-eight, you guys are twenty-seven, twenty-six. None of us have our own families.”

Leon stood. “There’s no reason to rush. I’m only twenty-five. I’m too young to die of marriage.”

Evan snorted. “I’m not sure which one of you is worse.”

Dalton gave a forced smile. “I can see your point, Will. I’ve been feeling…”

“Don’t do this, guys,” Evan protested.

Dalton lifted a finger into the air. “Hey, I’m not doing anything. Did you see my last break up? I bought a car for that woman and she still cheated on me.”

This admission fueled Will. “That is my point, we can complain all day about the women who are in our lives, but what about the ones we’ve lost?”

Neither Evan nor Dalton spoke for a few moments.

Will turned away from them. “Maybe I’m just feeling a bit lost after seeing the hope in my brother’s eyes, but … I want that.”

Evan cleared his throat. “And you think you could have had that?”

Will’s heart raced and he thought of Tara Lighthouse, the girl he’d thought he would marry from high school. “I had a first love.”

Evan snorted. “Is said first love available now?”

Feeling determination sweep through him, Will knew what he was going to do when he got out of here. “I’m looking her up when we finally get out.”

Dalton grunted. “Hmm.”

Evan turned to Dalton. “Don’t tell me you’re thinking about someone special, too?”

Dalton shrugged. “I actually saw a social media post from this girl I was sweet on a long time ago the other day. Maybe I’ll look her up, too.”

Evan glared at Dalton, then back to Will. “And what do you think they’ll say? Hmm? If they’re even available, which they probably aren’t, they’re going to say—well, of course I want to go out with a professional football player, can you buy me a car?” He pointed the last comment at Dalton.

Dalton glared at him. “Oh, shut it, Evan.”

“I’m with Evan,” Leon said.

Will realized he probably couldn’t explain it to Evan. He was definitely a lost cause after everything the last girl put him through. Not to mention Leon.

“What?” Evan asked, looking defiant and ready to rumble.

Will tilted his head to the side. “Nothing.”

“Say it.” Evan stepped up to him.

An idea flashed into Will’s mind. He grinned. “What if…” he laughed. “What if we placed a bet?”

Evan looked confused. “What are you are talking about, Kent?”

Dalton looked wary. “My accountant hates it when I get involved in one of your bets, Kent.”

“You know how I feel about betting.” Chase rubbed his clean-shaven head.

Will laughed, thinking of the last time they’d had a guy’s night out. “No,” he said, excitement pulsing through him. “How about calling it a friendly Christmas week bet?”

Evan sputtered out a laugh. “You’re crazy.”

Dalton frowned.

“Interesting.” Chase leaned back against the cement wall, crossing his arms.

Will knew Evan could never refuse a bet.

Evan nudged him. “Fine, get on with it.”

Will grinned. “We’ll need some parameters.”

Dalton’s frown deepened. “Great, now we have ‘parameters.’”

Will snapped. “Find your first love or the woman who got away. They have to be single,” he said, ticking it off on his fingers. “You take them out on a date and kiss them by Christmas Eve.” He opened his hands like he had offered them a solution to their worst problem.

Evan outright laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding. What if they’re not single?”

Will shrugged. “Then you find one who is.”

Dalton looked pensive, not responding yet.

“Love is like a stormy sea,” Chase began.

Will lifted his hands higher, like a master of ceremonies, cutting off Chase. “And the one who can’t do it or won’t complete it has to face Cameron Cruz.”

“No!” Evan kicked the ground and his face soured.

Leon shrugged.

Dalton let out a soft laugh at Evan’s antics.

“That’s worse than losing a bunch of money.” Chase leaned forward, making it obvious he was interested.

Will knew he had Dalton. Reaching out, he pushed his shoulder. “What do you say, Ruff? Are ya in?”

“No!” Evan protested, again.

Dalton laughed and shrugged. “Why not?”

Will laughed, too. “C’mon, Ev! Why not bet on first love? What do you have to lose?”

Evan gulped. “Have you ever heard of ‘kill the messenger,’ man? Were you paying attention during Shakespeare in high school English?”

Will moved to his side and gave him a little nudge. “C’mon, Ev, is the number one guy in sacks in the league gonna turn down a little competition?”

Evan rolled his eyes.

“Preach?” Will studied the running back but already knew he was in.

“God is love. Surely, he wants that for me. For all of us. I’m in.”

“Leon?” Will asked.

Leon smiled one of his Mona Lisa smiles—like he knew something they didn’t. “Sure. I can do that.”

Evan still shook his head.

Dalton cocked an eyebrow. “That’s fine. If Evan doesn’t want to bet, then he automatically gets to face Cameron by himself.”

Evan hesitated. “You guys are jerks.”

Dalton, Will, Leon, and Chase laughed.

“We know. Are you in?” Will pounded Evan on the back.

A guard came to the jail cell door. “You’re all sprung.”

“’Bout time,” Evan said through pinched lips.

Will grinned. “That’s a yes.”

The guard opened the door and they all filed out.

The team attorney was waiting for them. He had new phones and a scowl on his face. “I have Uber drivers out there to give you a ride wherever you want to go, as long as it’s straight home.” He let out a light laugh. “I feel bad for you guys when Mr. Cruz gets back.” He walked away.

The rest of them watched the attorney leave. Will turned to his friends and winked. “The bet stands. Have a good Christmas and may all your first loves come true.”

Evan made a barfing sound and stuck his finger down his throat. “I hate you, Kent.”

Keep reading for a sneak peak of Grant’s brother, Sloane’s, story The famous country music star.