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“You know I love you,” Mom said. “Right, Fiona?”
I blinked away the emotion in my eyes. “Of course, Mom,” I said. “I love you too.” I sighed. “I’ll figure this out. On my own time.” And I had time, right? Brogan seemed in no hurry, and he’d proven time and again he understood my commitment fears. I could take a breath and sort through my baggage.
“I know you will, sweetie,” she said. “You’re so smart, and I’m so proud of you.” She pressed her lips together.
“But?” I laughed.
“Well,” she said. “Speaking from experience, I wouldn’t wait too long. Especially if he makes you as happy as you’ve sounded lately. The rest of your life is waiting for you, and you shouldn’t let anything or anyone hold you back from it. Even yourself.”
She hugged me, and after we’d paid the check, we went our separate ways. I hadn’t thought an innocent meal with my mother would unearth the years of issues I had or help soothe some of them, but it had. And while I was grateful for the raw honesty with my mother about the effects of her lifestyle on me, I was more than certain I couldn’t become her moving forward. If I did choose to say yes to Brogan, it would be for life.
And knowing that? I needed to be certain, regardless of what my mother said about never having that luxury.
I smiled down at Skye’s sleepy eyes as I slipped her freshly bathed and lotioned body into a super cozy onesie. The sound machine was already softly tinkling out her favorite sleepy tunes, and after only a few minutes in the glider, she was out cold.
There was something magical about laying a contently sleeping baby into their crib, some kind of warmth that filled all the dark and empty pieces of a soul. I hovered for just a few seconds, watching as she breathed evenly, before heading out of her room and down the stairs. I don’t know how I got so lucky to love my job, but I really, really did.
That thought brought me up short while I cleaned up the mess we’d made in the kitchen, and that familiar, warring ache was back in the center of my chest.
I loved my job.
But I’d blown those professional walls down weeks ago. Turned them to ash when I’d hopelessly fallen in love with Skye, no longer able to separate fondness from pure, unconditional love anymore.
And then Brogan.
I’d dove headfirst into him, and now…
He wanted me to marry him. After just a few months. Who does that? And did he want to marry me quickly so he’d ensure he never lost who he thought was best for Skye? Because no one could deny my loyalty to that girl or my love for her. Maybe that was all his affections boiled down to—wanting the best for his baby girl. Could I really blame him for that? Was I expecting too much to want him to love me for me and to want me for Skye as a bonus?
I pinched the bridge of my nose, thoroughly annoyed with myself. I never had these thoughts when Brogan was here. When we were together, I never doubted anything. But after the lunch with my mom and then a long day without him, I was more on edge than I had been before.
Shaking off the thoughts, I forced myself to sit down in the living room and plunge headfirst into some much-needed distraction. Social media always proved a rabbit hole of a time sucker, so down it I went.
And after a few funny puppy videos and more than enough cats playing the piano, I was properly, blissfully out of my own mind, and enjoying the numbing kind of happiness that accompanied ridiculous videos.
But all that went to shit when I scrolled across a video where Brogan’s chiseled features filled up the screen. Even when I was actively trying not to think about him, he somehow found his way to me. I bit down on my grin, admiring the way he looked without his helmet but still in his Reapers gear while he graciously answered questions. After the run-in with the last paparazzi, Langley had told him to strategize. Answer questions on his own terms and to give them bites so they would stop relentlessly pursuing him because of his aversion to them.
The post-game interview was from a few hours ago, and he had his Demon face on. All business, no bullshit, he answered all the questions regarding Reaper strategy, and he almost even cracked a grin when they asked him about his thoughts on how well they’d do the rest of the season.
Then the interviewer moved on to more personal questions, some about Skye, which Brogan answered calmly, mostly saying his daughter was off limits. I breathed out a sigh of relief when he made it through those without getting ragey, and then the breath stalled in my lungs when the reporter held up a picture for Brogan to look at. It was one of him, me, and Skye, walking through the players’ lot together.
