The boy looked from the bag to his mother. Jackie nodded and Maddox ripped into the gift. Brody had stopped at the Hess gas station earlier and picked up the holiday toy truck. It was loud with flashing lights and a detachable helicopter, everything a seven-year-old could want.

"Cool!" Maddox shouted, ripping at the box.

"What do you say, Maddox?" his mother prompted.

"Thank you, Brody." He looked over at the adjoining door to Shannon's apartment with longing.

It was devious using a kid like he was, but Brody found himself wanting just one more opportunity to be around Shannon. "I'll bet Shannon would love to see that. Why don't you go show her?"

Maddox's chin went to his chest. "I can't."

"Oh, Brody," Jackie admonished him.

When he glanced up at Maddox's mother, her eyes held both pity and disgust. Brody got to his feet.

"She's already gone," she said.

Brody ran his hand through his hair, confused. "She was going to stay until Christmas, next week."

Jackie shook her head looking at Brody as if he were an idiot. "She changed her mind. After all, it's not like there was anything keeping her here anymore."

Twenty-seven.

Brody sat in the back of the church listening but not really hearing the ma.s.s. Usually Advent was his favorite of the church seasons, but he wasn't feeling it this year. He wasn't feeling much of anything. The city itself was decked out for the holidays and snow was in the air. The Blaze had secured a spot in the playoffs and the team was firing on all cylinders. Even better, his health was under control and his contract extension had been finalized. But that feeling of wanting something, but not knowing what, still nagged at Brody.

Sister Agnes patted his hand with hers, much like his grandmother used to do. When he glanced over at her, there was a ghost of a sad smile on her face. He raised an eyebrow in question, but she just shook her head, her hand remaining atop his on his thigh.

"What?" he mouthed to her. Maybe the nun had had a stroke and she couldn't talk. His heart leaped into his throat. "Are you all right?" he whispered reaching into his jacket pocket for his cell phone.

"I'm fine," she whispered. "It's you who are troubled."

Brody slouched back in the pew. "I was fine until you nearly gave me a heart attack," he mumbled.

She patted his hand again and he released a tight breath.

"I'm thinking about the game," he lied. "Chicago has a tough defense."

Sister Agnes shook her head again. "Tsk-tsk, Brody. Stop hiding behind football."

He yanked his hand out from under hers. "I'm not!"

She gave him that pitying grin again. "Yes, you are. You miss the girl. Just tell her you love her and get it over with. It won't hurt. I promise."

Brody stared at her, dumbfounded. Had the nun been smoking the incense before ma.s.s? "I don't miss her." Except he did. "And I'm definitely not in love with her."

Sister Agnes tsked at him again.

"No," he whispered hoa.r.s.ely. "Loving someone means trusting them and I'm through with that. Forever."

"And how's that working out for you, Brody?" she asked.

A roaring began in his ears. He wanted to rail at the nun. "Is that all you've got?" He kneed the Bible tucked into the holder on back of the pew in front of them. "A whole book of scripture and you give me that?"

Her smile had gone from pitying to smug.

"Everyone I get involved with sells me out, Sister. It's only a matter of time before you do, too."

She pulled in a sharp breath but her gaze didn't waver. Brody saw disappointment in her eyes and it made his stomach crawl. He dragged his fingers through his hair again as his temples began to throb. "I'm sorry, but I'm feeling pretty raw in that area right now."

"I have a question," she said gently. "The girl, did she sell you out?"

Brody swallowed around the boulder in his throat before shaking his head.

"There," she said, patting his thigh again. "Deceit isn't in you either, Brody. You were lying to everyone about your involvement with the girl. But you were lying to yourself, too. Your heart was involved. It still is. Don't waste this opportunity, Brody." With another pat to his thigh, she pulled out the kneeler and knelt for prayer.

Chicago's defense punished the Blaze, but their own defense was just as ruthless. DeShawn managed to punch in the winning touchdown with twenty-nine seconds left on the clock and the crowd left the stadium jubilant and primed for Christmas on Wednesday. Coach presented DeShawn with the game ball amid a chorus of cheers.

"Thanks to a h.e.l.luva block from Brody," DeShawn shouted and the team cheered again.

"Great game, men. We'll have training staff at the practice facility tomorrow, so make sure everyone gets their aches and pains looked at. Tuesday and Wednesday are off days, but I want everyone back ready to practice bright and early Thursday. We've got a short week. Don't make me regret giving you an extra day off," Coach barked. "Merry Christmas, fellas!"

Brody dressed quickly, wanting to get home, where he could clear his head. Sister Agnes's words were still bouncing around annoyingly. He pa.s.sed through the training room to give Nate his drop of blood when Devlin called him from the big whirlpool tub he was soaking his hip in.

"That was a pretty wicked block, Brody," the quarterback said. "We wouldn't have won without it. Well played."

"Thanks." Brody wasn't in the mood for conversation and he made his way toward the door.

"Something eating you, Brody?" Devlin asked, sounding like he actually cared.

"Nah, I just want to get home."

"You going to Boston for Christmas?" Devlin was turning into a real Chatty Cathy tonight.

"Tomorrow night."

The quarterback took a pull from a bottle of water. "You're lucky to have a big family to spend it with. I can remember spending lots of holidays alone." He smiled one of his rare grins. "It's nice to finally have one of my own."

Brody thought about being smothered by his sisters and their families. It was chaotic and boisterous, but when it came right down to it, he was still alone in the crowd.

"Yeah," he said. "Enjoy your daughter's first Christmas, Devlin." He made his way out of the stadium to his car. Still mulling over Sister Agnes's comments and now Devlin's, Brody went home and ate a solitary dinner Nate had had some dietician prepare. Restless, he climbed back into his Range Rover and drove to the Hampden area of Baltimore to see the famous Christmas lights. An entire block of Thirty-Fourth Street was lit up as neighbors in the row houses strung lights across the streets and on their houses. Inflatable snow globes, musical trains, and blinking angels illuminated the area. It was so over-the-top, Brody was pretty sure the city block was visible from s.p.a.ce. He walked, unrecognized, among the throngs of families enjoying the spectacle. The feeling of loneliness swelled.

Driving back through the city, he made his way to Federal Hill, pulling his car in front of Will and Julianne's loft apartment. Julianne was the wisest woman he knew, aside from Shannon. But Shannon wasn't here and he was pretty sure she was at the center of his melancholy anyhow. Will answered the door, his normally impeccable appearance rumpled in flannel sleep pants and a dark T-shirt adorned with spit-up on the shoulder. Owen wailed from the vicinity of the kitchen.

"At least you knocked first," his teammate said as he led the way to the kitchen, where Owen sat in his bouncy seat crying and gnawing on his fist at the same time.

"I surrendered my key a long time ago. Where's your wife?"

That got the linebacker's attention. He eyed Brody menacingly while he flung the baby over his shoulder, gently bouncing him up and down. "She's taking a bath. She needed a break."

"Not much of a break if the kid is wailing. Are you sticking pins in that baby again?"

"He's got a cold and he's fussy. It happens." Will moved the baby to his other shoulder, Owen's wails started to calm as his eyes drifted shut.

"Is she gonna be long? This is important." Brody glanced into the small living room where the lights of the Christmas tree flickered against the backdrop of the Inner Harbor. A small stuffed elf wearing a "Baby's First Christmas" hat was lying on the back of the sofa. Brody picked it up and wondered if Devlin had one of these for his daughter. h.e.l.l, it wouldn't be long before his childhood friend Robbie-Rob had one for his inevitable kid. Brody's stomach rolled.

"You look like h.e.l.l." Will's voice had gotten quieter to accommodate his son who was slumbering finally.

"You wouldn't win any contests yourself." Brody gestured to the spit-up on his teammate's shirt as Will laid the baby into a small crib in the living room.

Will chuckled. "My, how the mighty have fallen."

"Can you just get your wife, please?"

"In a minute," Will crossed his arms over his chest as he leaned his big body against the island separating the kitchen from the rest of the loft. "Right now, I'm enjoying seeing the great lady-killer Brody Janik being laid low by a woman."

"That's not what this is."

"Take it from one who's been where you are-in this very room with you as my tour guide-you're always the last to know."

Brody thought back six months to when his friend's new marriage nearly didn't get off the ground because of a serious lack of trust on both their parts. Yet they'd made it work. They were both happy. The squeezing sensation was back in Brody's chest. He leaned over the crib and gently put the elf in the corner.

"Your kid's got the hands of a receiver."

Will scoffed. "He's too smart for that. He's gonna be a linebacker all the way."

"Nonsense," Julianne said as she climbed down the stairs wrapped in a flowing robe and silk pajamas. "Owen is going to be an artist."

Both men choked on that as they followed her to the kitchen, where she pulled coffee mugs out of the cabinet.

"What do you want, Brody?"

Julianne, still obviously on Team Shannon, gave him the cold shoulder. This was the hard part, trying to convey to his friends what he wanted when he wasn't entirely sure himself.

"Brody, it's nine thirty. We'll be lucky to get six hours of sleep before he wakes up again. What. Do. You. Want?" Will demanded.

"I want what you have!" he growled, suddenly realizing what he wanted. All of it.

Will took an angry step forward before Julianne placed a hand in the center of his chest giving him a soothing caress. "Down, boy. I'm fairly certain he means our lives and not me."

She stretched up on her bare toes and bussed Brody on the cheek. "Sit," she said, pushing him onto one of the barstools. "I'll make some cappuccino." She filled the coffee machine. "Brody, you always told me you were looking for the woman who gets you. And when that one extraordinary woman came along-the one who totally gets you-you sent her away. Why?"

Brody raked his fingers through his hair. "Because she's a good person," he whispered. "The best I've ever met. I want to always hold that image of her in my heart: the warm, trustworthy woman who she is. If I let her in-all the way in-I'll give her the opportunity to sell me out."

Will sucked in a breath.

"Oh, Brody." The pity in Julianne's voice made Brody cringe. "That's no way to live your life. You can't go around believing the worst in people. Especially someone who you already admit is a wonderful person. When you find someone like that-like Shay-you need to hold on to them. Not push them away."

"You're telling me it's too late? That I screwed up?"

"I didn't say that." She pulled a carton of cream out of the fridge. "Although you did screw up."

Will nodded behind his wife.

"But you can fix it. You just have to be willing to put yourself out there, Brody. To trust."

There was that d.a.m.n T-word again. Brody pushed through a few hard breaths. Life without Shannon had become nearly unbearable. He was just going through the motions. Brody wanted more and that meant he had to do whatever it took.

"Okay," he agreed. "Tell me what I need to do."

Will laughed. "A good place to start would be groveling."

Brody ignored his smart-a.s.s teammate, instead looking to his wife for advice.

"Sorry, Brody, but I agree with Will. This is going to call for some serious groveling," she said with a mischievous grin as Brody dropped his head into his hands.

The Platinum Palace was nothing like Brody expected. Instead of being housed in a strip mall or, worse, Shannon's mother's garage, the salon was located in a three-thousand-square-foot craftsman-style building, dwarfed by two towering river oak trees. Despite the fact that it was mid-day on Christmas Eve, the sprawling parking lot was filled. Not only that, but the s.p.a.ces were occupied by Beemers, Mercedes, and Ford F-150 pickups.

There was lots of blond hair, too. All shades and sizes. Brody was nearly blinded by it; that and the futuristic platinum Christmas tree blinking in the foyer. The mood inside the salon was festive. Clients dressed in black capes, some wearing tinfoil in their hair, milled around sipping something that looked like eggnog and smelled a lot like bourbon.

Brody stood in the empty foyer scanning the room for Shannon, but she was nowhere in sight. He'd already tried her mother's address, only to be told by her grandmother that both girls were working at the salon today. Hanging over the reception desk was a poster-sized photo of Teryn all decked out in her Dallas Cowboys cheerleader outfit. On a shelf next to it was a photo of both sisters dressed in identical white dresses. In the picture, Shannon's hair was wild and her smile impish.

"That's my favorite picture of my girls," a voice said beside him.

Brody didn't realize he'd picked up the frame until it was being taken from his hands. He glanced up at the attractive woman beside him. June Everett was pleasingly plump but with the face of a G.o.ddess and a head full of the hair that gave the place its name. It was easy to see where her girls got their beauty.

"They were ten. It was a ch.o.r.e getting them both to stay clean while the photographer fiddled with his equipment. Lordy, but that feels like a lifetime ago." Her voice was wistful as she replaced the picture on the shelf. Turning to Brody, she got right to the point. "Shay's in the back. I keep a loaded gun back there, too, and she knows how to use it, so you best mind your manners."

Brody nearly laughed at the woman's bravado until he realized she was serious. Pushing his Ray-Bans on top of his head, he followed where she'd pointed toward the back of the salon. As he made his way past the chairs of women, a silence descended like a bow wave until the only sound in the cavernous room was Blake Shelton belting out "Jingle Bell Rock" over the stereo system.

Inside the large storage room a washer spun while Shannon stood at the dryer pulling out towels and folding them on a table beside it. A fluffy white cat sat beside the pile, swishing its tail as Shannon sang along to the Christmas song, her jeans-clad hips swaying nicely to the beat. The sight was so enticing, Brody let out a load groan. Shannon froze in mid-fold, taking a moment before turning toward him, her face a mask.

"Oh, for the love of Christ, Shannon! What are you wearing?" Not what he'd planned to say, but seeing her in the flesh again was doing crazy things to his body.

She looked down at her gray T-shirt, Redskins emblazoned across her fine chest. Lifting her chin again she arched an eyebrow at him. "Seriously? That's what you're gonna lead with, Brody?"

His brain was telling him to shut the h.e.l.l up and stick to the script, but that same brain had scrambled once he'd caught sight of those whiskey eyes again. "You have plenty of Blaze T-shirts you stole from me. Why are you wearing that?"