I worked for them.
“So, since it’s not permanent,” Maddie continued. “You could technically partake in some totally consensual, simple pleasures with him.” She grinned at me, and Daisy nodded her encouragement.
“You could call it the Demon clause,” Daisy said, and we all laughed.
“As fun as that sounds—”
“Ah-ha!” Maddie cut me off, grinning triumphantly. “You admit, it would be fun.”
“Well, yeah,” I admitted. There was no use denying it anymore, especially after that damn kiss. “Of course, it would be fun. If one quick kiss has me all flustered weeks later, then I can’t imagine what more would do to me.”
Daisy squealed again, but it was because the Reapers were now taking the ice, thank God. At least now the focus would be on the game and not my ridiculous dilemma.
“So, why not have fun?” Maddie asked into my ear since the crowd was going nuts—including Daisy—as the game started. I couldn’t tear my eyes off the ice, my breath catching as I watched Brogan shred the ice with a graceful, predatory technique that had my toes curling in my shoes.
“That’s a line I don’t want to cross,” I answered, and it was the truth. Mostly. Sex would most certainly complicate things. I lived with the man. How did that play out? We fucked and then…okay, bye? Heading to my room across the hall now? No thanks.
“That’s fair,” she said.
“And besides,” I continued. “It’s not like he’s tried to kiss me again.” Maddie grinned at me while I rambled. “And he said it was due to the sleep deprivation anyway. It didn’t mean anything. It especially didn’t mean he thinks of me in that way. I was just…there.”
“It sounds like you’re trying to convince yourself,” Maddie said, and maybe I was.
I shrugged. “I’m not saying anything untrue.”
“Okay,” she said. “I’ll drop it. But I support you no matter what. And you know I’m always the one who votes for you to have fun. Just saying.”
I flashed her a grateful smile, standing carefully as Brogan got the puck. I made sure Skye’s noise-canceling headphones were okay as I shifted on my feet, holding my breath as he handled the puck like the star he was.
The man was like lightning on the ice, dodging in and out of the opposing team at a rapid pace. He flew toward the goal, moving the puck with the precision of a sharpshooter—
And scored!
I clapped, swallowing my own cheering scream so I didn’t startle the baby on my chest.
Brogan Grant’s baby.
The sweet little girl who I adored a little more than I liked to admit. Because I couldn’t fall for this baby. She wasn’t mine. Her biological mother would come back, and then I’d never see Skye again. Never hear her sweet little coos, never feel her relax against my chest after an hour-long cry fest. Never watch her take her first steps.
My heart sank a little at those certainties, and I scolded myself for clearly getting attached when I knew better. Even with so many of my brothers and sisters, their fathers would take them after the divorce, folding them into new families far away. Sure, we kept in touch, but it was never the same.
And Skye…damn, why did it hurt so much to think about leaving her even when I knew it couldn’t end any other way?
Somehow, I’d managed to shove all my warring emotions down into a tightly locked box and allowed myself to thoroughly enjoy the rest of the game.
Which we won.
Madeline and Daisy had left soon after, while Skye and I had headed toward the Reapers’ locker room hallway, where some of the other girlfriends or wives—and vying puck bunnies—waited for the team to come out.
Not that I was any of those things. I was just the nanny. But I knew Brogan would want to see Skye before going out with the team to celebrate their win.
And sure, maybe I wanted to see him too. To congratulate him, that’s all.
Skye was a wiggly mess by the time the players started filing out of the locker room, some of which I recognized as Brogan’s close friends, others I had no clue. I mentally chided myself and made a note to ask Daisy for a full download on my next night off.
I pulled Skye out of the carrier, shifting her in my arms so her back was against my chest and she could see all the excitement. Her legs really started kicking, and I knew she’d spotted Brogan coming down the hall at the same moment I did.
He looked damn good—freshly showered, dark hair still damp, and dressed in a Reaper T-shirt and a pair of black athletic pants. He shifted his gear bag over his shoulder, that natural scowl etched on his forehead as he walked down the hall. And damn it, memories of our kiss blazed in my mind, causing all sorts of fantasies to rise up and flare all over my skin. How could anyone look that good after playing a brutal game on the ice for as long as he just did?
“Brogan,” I said when he seemed content to keep his head down, ignoring the calls of Demon! from the fans who crowded the other side of the hallway.
His head whirled toward my voice, and from the utter shock there, I had to wonder if anyone on the planet dared to call him Brogan instead of Demon.
I gave an awkward little wave, making sure I had a good hold of the wiggly bundle in my arms.
Brogan’s eyes shifted in the span of a blink, a smile shaping his lips that literally stole my breath as he hurried over to us. “You’re still here,” he said when he reached us, grinning down at his daughter. “Hey, little demon,” he cooed, and my knees might’ve melted just a little. Not only was this man a walking temptation with a side of sin, but he had the ability to turn me into a puddle just by being sweet.
How could sinister and sweet work so perfectly together? And why the hell did I like it so much?
“I figured you’d want to see her before you go out to celebrate,” I said, willing confidence into my voice instead of the sudden shakiness I felt. “Great game, by the way.”
He smoothed his hand over Skye’s cheek before setting down his bag and reaching for her. She kicked her legs again, and I shifted her into his arms as we stepped toward the wall to be out of the way of the foot traffic.
“I was coming home to you,” he said to Skye, grinning at her while he nuzzled his nose against hers.
“Oh, I’m sorry,” I said. “I thought you’d want to go out with the team. I should’ve headed home—to your house—instead of holding you up here.”
And I was rambling again. Brilliant.
He turned his head toward me, those hazel eyes studying me for a few moments. “No,” he said. “This is perfect.” He sounded a little surprised by that fact as if he didn’t realize he’d feel that way. I couldn’t blame him. It wasn’t like he had any experience of family waiting outside for him after a win.
“Is it okay if I ride with you two?” he asked, and the question took me aback for a second.
“You want to leave your car here?” I asked, utterly confused.
His shoulders dropped a little. “I can just have Maxim swing by to grab me for morning ice.” When I still stared up at him in wonder, he glanced from me to Skye and back again.
And then it dawned on me.
He wanted that extra twenty minutes with her on the ride home.