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Brogan (Carolina Reapers 9)

Page 7

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“So you took the job,” Daisy said. “For Brogan Grant.”

I laughed again. “Are you going to sing-song his name every time we talk about him because, for the foreseeable future, I’ll be living at his house.”

Another squeal slipped past her lips that got Maddie laughing too. “I’m sorry,” Daisy said. “But, I mean, he’s Brogan—”

“Grant,” Maddie and I said in unison. “We got it,” I added, hurrying to finish packing.

“He’s so damn hot, Fiona,” Daisy said. “Like, haul you over his shoulder on the dancefloor, take you out of the building, and fuck your brains out in the alley hot.”

I dropped the pile of pants I’d been holding and gaped at her.

“What?” she asked, shrugging at Maddie and me. “Have you two not seen him?”

“I met him yesterday,” I said, and swallowed hard. Sure, he’d looked attractive, but I didn’t really get to study him because he was having a straight-up crisis on his hands. And I’d been more focused on soothing the baby.

“And?” Daisy scoffed. “You’re telling me you didn’t notice all that alpha has-the-nickname-Demon-for-a-reason goodness?”

“He’s not hard to look at,” I admitted. “But no, I wasn’t envisioning him sweeping me off my feet or anything.” At least that was the truth. And with the panic in his eyes? I’m sure he was racing through all the women he’d swept off their feet a year ago while trying to figure out how this happened.

“More like bend you over a desk,” Daisy joked, and I shook my head at her.

“Stop,” I said through my laughter. “He’s officially my boss.”

“Hence the desk,” she teased, and I threw a pair of pants at her. She laughed and tossed them in my suitcase.

“How long is he your boss?” Maddie asked, and I shrugged.

“I’m not sure. He’s waiting on paternity test results, but they’re rushing it, so hopefully he figures that out soon. And then…” I shook my head. “He has to locate the mother. She’s bound to come to her senses at some point, right?” Even though I couldn’t fathom ever allowing a child to be in the care of someone so fucking careless, but again, not my baby. “And then that’ll be my cue to leave.”

“So, you’re still going to be on the hunt for a clinical position,” Maddie said, and I smiled at her.

“Yes, Mom, I will.”

She blew me a kiss. “I just don’t want all that hard work of yours to go to waste.”

“It won’t,” I assured her and myself, if I was being honest. “But you both know I’m drowning in student loan debt. And I’m more than qualified to be a live-in nanny. He’s in a bind, and I need the cash. This is a win-win.”

“No one is doubting your mama skills,” Maddie said. “With how many siblings you’ve practically raised over the years?” She sucked in a breath. “I’m shocked you had time for school at all.”

I nodded and zipped up my suitcase. My mother was a serial marry-er, if that was a term. Since I was eight, she’d had a dozen husbands and nearly a child with every single one of them. I loved my mother, but God, that woman had turned me into a parent before I’d turned ten years old. Since I was the oldest, it was always on me to help take care of my younger siblings, and with her divorcing and marrying every other year while also popping out kids, there was a ton of responsibility that fell on me.

Of course, that same responsibility is what led me to want to be a child psychologist, so I suppose I should thank her for that. It’s also the experience that allowed me to be sought out by an NHL millionaire. I couldn’t really complain.

“When do you move in?” Maddie asked as I grabbed my coffee and sank onto the other side of the bed.

“I leave in a couple of hours,” I said, leaning against my suitcase.

“You’re not breaking your lease, are you?” Daisy asked, eying my tiny apartment.

“No, of course not,” I said, and she laughed. “I’ll still use it for nights off and keep most of my stuff here.”

“But most of your nights will be spent at…Brogan’s house?” Daisy managed to say his name without squeaking.

“Yes. Three-month-olds don’t really have a nine-to-five schedule,” I teased.

“Forgive me, Ms. I-Can’t-Commit-To-Anything,” she joked.

I faux-gaped at her like I was offended, and Maddie laughed.

“She has a point,” Maddie said. “You’ll be living with this guy and his newborn day in and night out. That’s not really your style.”

I shrugged, drinking my coffee. They weren’t wrong. Thanks to my mother’s string of husbands, babies, and houses, I had a huge issue with committing to anything. In fact, college was the longest relationship I’ve ever had outside of my mother and my siblings. Sure, I was still cordial with some of my ex-step-fathers, but when it came to relationships, the last thing I ever looked for was long-term. It didn’t seem logical to me—not with what I’d witnessed with my mother. She fell out of love so fast after saying I do and it hurt so many people along the way, I was terrified to end up like her. Better to live one day at a time and enjoy the present than worry about hurting someone in the future.



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