“Fiona!” My mother answered on the third ring. “Did you get the invitation?”
“I did,” I said, trying to keep my voice as happy and light as possible. She was her own person, and she didn’t need me passing judgment on her. She never had in the past, so why start now?
“Isn’t the material divine? We had it custom made.”
“Beautiful,” I said.
“You’ll be there, won’t you? Paul is dying to meet you.”
I bit back a laugh. I highly doubted he was dying to meet me. I hadn’t met the last husband either. “That’s why I called, Mom,” I said. “I’m sorry, but the Reapers have an away game that week, so I’ll be with the team and Skye.”
“Oh, fiddlesticks,” she said, using her best pout voice. “Well, I understand,” she said, perking up. “You can make it to all the other events, I’m sure. You can even bring your employer and his daughter if you’d like.”
I hated that I wondered if there even would be any more events. Sometimes Mom’s relationships ended well before the wedding actually happened. “Thanks, Mom,” I said. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“How is the little doll?” she asked, referring to Skye. I’d told her about my new job the day after I’d landed it. Just because we didn’t see eye-to-eye on relationships didn’t mean I cut her out of my life entirely.
“She’s almost getting the hang of sleeping,” I said, my heart warming as I looked at her in her bouncer. “But you know that usually means she’s about to regress, and I’ll go back to sleepless nights again.”
Mom chuckled. “Oh, yes,” she said. “I remember those days.”
I shook my head. She may remember them, but at least I’d been there to help her time and time again.
“Paul has children of his own, too,” she said. “Three. All grown like you. This will be his third marriage.”
“And for you?” I asked, then immediately regretted it.
“I’ve lost count,” she admitted with a sigh, not at all phased by my question. “But love is a hard journey. It takes pain to find your forever.”
“Do you think Paul is your forever?” I asked, but highly doubted it. She’d been searching for that forever kind of love since I was born. And she never found it. Instead, she’d gone through more marriages than she could even count, and the divorces were always exhausting for her. I could never understand why she’d keep searching when she’d wasted half her life looking for something that didn’t exist.
“I always think they are,” she said honestly. “Until they’re not.”
I nodded. At least she could be open about her life choices. “Well, I just hope you’re happy.”
“I am, sweetie. But that’s enough about me, what about you? How are you enjoying your new position?”
Something warm and bubbly spread throughout my chest, chasing away all the negative thoughts about my mother’s past—and present—away. The fear she instilled in me about committing to one person, only to find out the love disappears the second you do, was no match for the feelings Skye gave me.
“Skye is an incredible baby,” I said.
“I thought you mentioned she was a fussy baby?” Mom asked.
“Well, yeah, she is,” I amended. “But she has her moments. They usually happen any time her daddy is in the room.”
“Her daddy?” Mom asked, intrigued. “Do you mean Brogan Grant?”
I chided myself for using the term daddy. It was hard to turn off. When I spoke to Skye, I wanted to use terms she would eventually pick up, and calling Brogan by his name any time Skye was looking at him seemed like a step backward.
“Yes,” I said. “Brogan.”
“Is he a good boss? Treating you right?”
Heat flared over every inch of my skin. He treated me more than all right, and I didn’t have a clue what that meant. I could never get enough of that man, and that was even when we weren’t in the bedroom. I liked his no-bullshit attitude, his unflinching confidence in everything except parenthood, and his ability to be both a terrifying hulk of a man right alongside a gentle, compassionate father.
“Yes,” I managed to answer. “He’s great.”
“And the pay is good?”
“Definitely.”
“Good,” she said. “You’ll be able to pay off those student loans faster and then buy yourself a nicer place. An actual house maybe, or at least an apartment with a view. Have you thought about what you might want once you get rid of those?”
“I’d want something in a nice neighborhood with a big backyard,” I said automatically. “Somewhere near the city but not inside it. A place with a big kitchen and plenty of rooms…”
A bolt of lightning hit me, stopping my words.
I was describing Brogan’s house.
“Well, those are great goals to have. I’m so proud of you, sweetie. I have to run, though. Let’s do lunch sometime soon since you can’t make it to the party!”
“Okay,” I said before we hung up. I stood there, still in shock at my realization.
This place felt like home. This is where I felt safe. Where I saw myself in the future if I ever looked ahead.
It’s where I slept and cooked and played with Skye. It’s where I rocked her to sleep or sang her songs. It’s where I paced and bounced and cried with Skye when she couldn’t sleep. It’s where I’d fallen in love with her. It’s where Brogan and I…
I set down my cell on the kitchen island, sinking back into the barstool because my legs just couldn’t hold me upright anymore.
I was in love with Skye. The thought of leaving her was like a physical pain in my chest, and I knew it would come. I knew it would hurt like hell.
I also knew she was worth every inch of pain I’d have to take when her mother showed up, and I was forced to leave.
But…
It wasn’t just Skye I was falling for. No, I could feel it in my bones, in the very depths of my soul. When I looked ahead, I saw myself with Skye but also with Brogan. And that scared the shit out of me.
Because if I’d learned anything from my mother’s past, I knew the minute I let myself love Brogan, let myself commit to him…
Whatever was between us would vanish.
And I’d be crushed twice over.
So, who in their right mind would willingly sign up for that?
11
Brogan
“It’s not a date,” I assured her for the four-billionth time as we stood in the kitchen, dressed and ready for the Reaper Halloween party. We’d decided to play off my nickname, going as a devil and an angel. Costumes were never my thing, so I’d gone with more of the Lucifer vibe, pulling my Brioni tux from the closet and pairing it with a red shirt and an atrocious set of glittering horns Fiona had insisted on.
She, however, looked like a fucking dream. There was no skimpy, out-of-a-bag costume for my woman. Nope. She wore a diaphanous, off-the-shoulder, white gown that fell to the ground in flowing layers, but also had a slit up the thigh, revealing miles of creamy skin with every step she took. Her hair was piled on her head with loose curls, topped with a glittery halo and an impressive set of wings that was going to be hell getting into my car.