“Brogan—” she started, her eyes flaring wide.
“And we still don’t have to,” I assured her. “I’ve never needed labels to know where something belongs in my life—where someone belongs, and I know you belong with me. You belong with us.” I kissed her hard and quick. “I’m in love with you, Fiona Andrews.”
She inhaled sharp and sweet, blinking quickly.
“Don’t say a thing,” I whispered, stealing another kiss. “I’ve never been the guy to play for applause, and I don’t need your assurances to make me feel better about how I feel. I just wanted you to know that.” One more kiss, but this time, she rose up and kissed me back—hard.
“Brogan if you don’t get your ass down these steps, I’m fucking leaving you!” Maxim shouted from what sounded like the entry.
“Gotta go,” I whispered. “Kiss my baby for me when she wakes up from her nap. I love you, Fiona.” Fine, I took one more kiss, because how couldn’t I with her eyes shining like that?
Then I took my suitcase and left, glaring at Maxim as I made my way down the front steps. “You couldn’t give me another couple minutes.”
“We’re already going to be five minutes late.” His eyes narrowed. “I hate being late.”
“Relax,” I told him as I tossed my suitcase in the back of his trunk next to his. “They’re not going to leave without us.”
“Did you bring your socks?” he asked, already backing down the driveway before I even had my seatbelt fastened.
“Are you still living like a monk?” I challenged.
“Fuck off,” he muttered. “LA is ranked high in the Western Conference. We’d better win. My concentration is locked on target. Where’s yours?”
I settled into his passenger seat, belt fastened, and looked over my shoulder at my house as we drove away. My focus was on that little safe deposit box and the only pieces of my inheritance that my aunt and uncle hadn’t taken in the name of “raising” me—Mom’s jewelry.
Fiona was the one. Maybe right now wasn’t the time, but when it came, I wanted to be prepared, and we weren’t scheduled to be back in LA for the rest of the year. When that perfect moment made itself known, I wanted to give Fiona the one thing money couldn’t buy—my mom’s ring. It wasn’t as big or as flashy as some of the other wives had, especially with the amount of money flooding this neighborhood, but it was a piece of me. Life was short, Sawyer was right, so what was the point of wasting time when I knew Fiona was it for me?
Maxim’s jaw flexed, already wearing his game face because the guy didn’t know how to fucking relax. Didn’t know how to live off the ice.
I guess I hadn’t either, not until Skye and Fiona.
“Yeah,” I muttered as we turned out of the neighborhood. “My focus is right where it needs to be.”
14
Fiona
We walked toward the players’ lot, Brogan leading the way so he could hold the door open for me while I cradled Skye in my arms. She’d had enough of the carrier by mid-game, and had taken a quick nap even at the end when they won, and the arena had erupted in a fit of cheers. Thank goodness for noise-canceling headphones.
She was fully awake as I stepped through the door Brogan held open for us, and the look in his eyes made my heart stutter. When he smiled like that, it turned me into a moony-eyed princess, and with him just coming off of a win, he was extra cheery, which suited him as much as the doom-and-gloom demon he was known for.
“I love it when you wear my jersey,” he said as I paused in the doorway to grin up at him.
“I love—” The words clogged in my throat, and I quickly pushed out, “wearing your name on my back.”
He didn’t miss a beat, just grinned down at me and let the door close behind us when we’d fully stepped through.
I cringed, internally scolding myself. It had been weeks since he’d told me he loved me, and I’d been too much of a coward to say it back. He didn’t seem to mind, though, never once pressing the issue. The man was confident enough not to let something like my hesitance shake him, and I adored that about him.
And it’s not like I didn’t want to say it back. I did. I’d almost said it a dozen times, like when we’d been decorating the Christmas tree or turning the rest of his house into a winter wonderland or the countless times we’d been in bed together. But the icy fear in my veins always stopped me.
What if I said the words, and the magic popped like a soap bubble? What if the second I gave him my heart, the spell broke, and the passion disappeared? Isn’t that what always happened to my mother? Isn’t that why I’d never wanted to commit to anyone in the past?
But, to be fair, I’d never felt this way with anyone before—
“Demon! Can we have a word! Please!” Shouts came from a crowd of reporters who had somehow made it onto the players’ lot. Several were crowded around other players, but the one who was shouting came from a man beelining it for us.
Brogan’s features shifted the instant the reporter reached us, and he stepped a little in front of me as if he could shield me from it.
“I’m not in the mood to chat,” he said, his tone icy and rough.
“Just one question,” the reporter persisted, and I swallowed hard. He looked like a weasel in a two-sizes too-big suit and greased back hair, and he clearly wasn’t catching Brogan’s no-reporter vibe right now. The reporter looked to me, then Skye. “You’ve been awfully quiet regarding your daughter,” he said. “The fans want to know more about her—”
“She’s not up for discussion,” Brogan cut him off. He’d given little details to the people Langley approved of, but on his own terms. And from the tension in his shoulders? I could tell he most certainly didn’t want to be ambushed like this. “Go talk to Maxim,” Brogan waved his arm toward his friend, who was graciously, if not bored looking, answering questions.
“He’s not a newly single father,” the guy pressed, and I sighed. Why couldn’t he take a hint? Seeing that he wasn’t going to stop, I moved behind Brogan, ready to get Skye to the safety of the car.
The reporter noted my movements and stepped directly into my path, stopping me short. He held out his phone, poising the camera directly in Skye’s face. I turned away, trying to shield her from him. “What the hell?” I snapped, and Skye cried—
A thunk sounded over her cries.
One second the reporter had been standing trying to get the picture of Skye, and the next he was on the ground, gripping his nose between his fingers.
Brogan towered over him, his fists curled and shaking. Fuck, his entire body was shaking as he stood over the reporter.
“Stay the fuck away from them!” he growled, and then Maxim was racing across the lot, stepping in front of him.
“Demon,” he said, forcing him to look at him. “Take a breath, man. He’s down.” Maxim shot me a reassuring look as if to say I’ve got him, and I nodded, hurrying to the car. I heard Maxim call for security just as I got Skye safely in her car seat.