“Oh,” I said, chiding myself for being so ridiculous as to not seeing it at first. “Of course,” I continued, reaching for his gear bag.
“You don’t have to carry my bag,” he said quickly.
I hauled the heavy-ass thing over my shoulder, only slightly feeling the strain. I’d been lugging baby bags and car seats around for longer than I could remember, so this wasn’t a task. “Sure I do,” I said, smiling at Skye. “You’ve got that cute little bundle to handle. She’s way more trouble than a gear bag,” I teased, and he grunted a laugh, and the sound was so unexpected that it sent a warm shiver down my spine. I cleared my throat, trying to readjust my body to the proper off-limits setting. I motioned toward the exit. “I’ll drive so you can sit next to her in the back.”
I looked over my shoulder when I realized he wasn’t following me and was stopped dead by the smile on his face.
I’d never seen that smile before. It was different than the one he reserved for Skye and wholly different than the scowl/smirk he reserved for the cameras.
This was different. A genuine surprise and delight shaped his lips as he looked at…
Me.
He was looking at me. Looking at me like I’d answered a question he’d been asking for a very long time.
But that was ridiculous and totally not true. He was just happy because of winning the game and seeing his daughter afterward. Nothing more.
“Am I going the wrong way?” I asked when he made no motion to move.
He blinked a few times, then shook his head. The smile dropped, but it wasn’t replaced with anything other than a sort of calm contentment as he moved toward me. “You’re going the right way,” he said, then walked by my side as we headed toward my car.
There were paparazzi lined outside as we snuck through the players’ lot and into general admission parking, but luckily they were totally enamored by Brogan’s friend Maxim and paid no attention to us at all.
Brogan secured Skye into her car seat and then settled into the seat next to her, keeping a hand on her little chest as I drove us toward home.
“Thank you,” he whispered after a few minutes, and he was so quiet about it that I couldn’t tell if he was talking to Skye or me or the universe. But when I looked up in my rearview mirror?
I saw a hint of that smile again, and his eyes were on me.
I quickly returned my attention to the road, my heart racing the entire way home.
Great, not only was I totally falling for his daughter, I also couldn’t deny that somehow, someway, Brogan freaking Grant had earned a spot in my heart too.
7
Brogan
“I still can’t believe you’re a farmer’s market kind of guy,” Fiona said as we wandered between the booths, two canvas bags full of produce already hanging from Skye’s stroller. I was just glad it was early enough in the fall that the market was still open on a Friday morning. I’d be in Buffalo in less than twelve hours.
“Fresher produce,” I said with a shrug. “And I’m pretty careful with what I put in my body.” I paused at a booth, picking up a zucchini. My body was the only thing that kept me on the ice, and I knew it wouldn’t last forever. I had to take care of it, and not just for myself anymore, but for Skye, too.
“I’ve noticed,” Fiona remarked, glancing down the length of my body, her cheeks flushing the prettiest shade of pink. “I mean, it’s only natural, seeing as you’re a professional athlete.”
I bit back a smile and purchased three zucchinis from the stand owners. “And there’s something to be said for supporting local farmers,” I continued, pushing Skye’s stroller down the gravel path.
“Totally agree.” Fiona looked anywhere but at me, which was pretty much how things had been since I’d crossed the line and kissed her almost three weeks ago.
The worst part? I couldn't bring myself to regret it, no matter how much tension there might be between us now. I looked at her way too often, taking in the soft bow of her smile, the long line of her legs, and the sumptuous curve of her ass. That kiss was branded into my fucking memory. Did it make our current status...charged? Absolutely. But there were zero regrets in that department, because now I knew exactly how she tasted.
“So, has there been any luck in finding Tiffany?” Fiona asked, breaking my chain of thought.
I shook my head, my stomach sinking. “Without having her last name, and with hospital records being private, there’s only so much we can do.” What kind of woman would dump Skye on my doorstep without the assurance that I’d even find her?
Shit, was my judgment that bad when it came to women I slept with?
It is when you’re that drunk.
Never again. There would be zero alcohol in my life.
“This thing does really well on the gravel,” Fiona remarked, changing the topic and making light conversation just like she had the past few weeks.
“It’s pretty much the Lamborghini of strollers.” I gave Skye a grin and she happily babbled back, chewing on what had become her favorite blanket. “At least that’s what Langley told me.”
“She would definitely know.” She glanced over a stand with some apples. “We have a ton of those at home,” she muttered. “Is there anything you need to take on the road with you?”
I shook my head. “You don’t have to worry about me.”
“That’s kind of my job,” she said with a laugh.
“Skye’s your job.” I tucked my ball cap down a little lower when someone stared a little too long. I wasn’t against being recognized—it kind of came with the territory—but I didn’t want Skye exposed to the madness that sometimes erupted when overzealous fans got involved.
“What does that make you?” she teased, smiling up at me. “A perk?”
Perk? Fuck yes, I wanted to be a perk. I’d be her perk in my bed, on the couch, against the wall, anywhere she wanted me to be.
Fucking professional.
Right, except that. Fiona was still Skye’s nanny, and the only stable person my daughter really had in her life. Even I wasn’t as dependable as I wanted to be during the season, and any thoughts of taking our...relationship...to that level was not only a super skeezy move on my part as her employer, but reckless as Skye’s father.
There were days responsibility fucking sucked.
As if Fiona could read my mind, she looked away and her smile instantly fell, the color draining from her face like someone had pulled the stopper in a bathtub. “Oh, no.”
“What’s wrong?” My gaze jumped to follow hers, but all I saw was a crowd of farmers market shoppers up ahead of us. Scratch that. There was a crowd of shoppers and one Jake-Gyllenhaal-looking douche who was staring at Fiona. “Do you know him?” I asked, dropping my voice.
“That would be my ex.” Her eyes popped wide and she glanced left, then right, like she was about to dart away. “Shit, shit, shit.”
My eyes narrowed on the hipster headed our way. Was that the kind of guy Fiona was usually attracted to? And exactly how many scarves did the dude need? It was fucking seventy degrees out here. I was still in athletic pants and a t-shirt and this guy looked like he was about to indulge in a pumpkin spice latte and hashtag bless his Instagram account. “Bad breakup?”