Brogan (Carolina Reapers 9)

And those tiny little shorts she insisted on sleeping in? They were driving me fucking crazy. She had some seriously incredible legs, and at one a.m., my brain had no problem reminding me that hitting on an employee was criminal. But my body? I was one glance away from a sexual harassment lawsuit.

“Right. You can handle it,” Sterling drawled slowly, a smirk settling on his features as his gaze dropped to my feet.

“What?” I snapped.

“That’s why you’re wearing two different socks. Because you’re handling it.”

I took the socks off and threw them at his face.

“Brogan, be quick,” Coach ordered. “Silas wants a word with you before you head home.”

I nodded and took my ass to the showers. Hot water blasted into my aching muscles and I almost groaned at the decadent feel of having five fucking minutes to myself. Not that I didn’t savor every single second I had with Skye—oddly enough, I really did. She’d only been here two weeks and already I couldn’t imagine what my life had been like before her. But the moments like this? Yeah, I could still remember unhurried showers.

And unfortunately, this wasn’t one of them. If Silas wanted to talk to me, it was either good news or bad. Guy didn’t call up players to beat around the bush. Like me, he wasn’t into wasting time.

“I’ll go with you,” Coach offered once I was dressed and ready to head up.

I gave him a nod and we took the elevator to Silas’s floor.

“I wasn’t kidding. You have to sleep,” Coach lectured. Gage McPherson had been the best of the best in his day, which was one of the reasons we all respected him as our coach now. He wasn’t some guy who had worked his way up through the ranks after college—he was a player, and took care of us like he still was one.

“How did you do it?” I asked as the elevator rose.

He winced. “The first couple of years were tough. Scarlett’s biological mom…” He shook his head. “Let’s just say that my best friend moving in with me was the best thing that could have happened to Scarlett...and to me. Bailey was the only one I trusted Scarlett with. You trust your nanny?”

I nodded. “Langley did all the background work, and she’s…” Was there any way to describe Fiona? Beautiful. Compassionate. Thoughtful. Organized. Loving. Kind. She was everything Skye needed when I wasn’t available. “She’s Fiona.”

“Then you need to hand the baby over at night—” he started.

I opened my mouth to object.

“—at least on the nights before games. I can’t have you half asleep out there.”

I grunted, which was the only agreement he was going to get out of me, and the doors opened.

Silas motioned us in as he got off his phone call. “What she says goes.” He shook his head. “She’s the head of the lab, so if that’s what she wants, then she gets it.” He hung up and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “You think people would learn that my sister runs the development lab already. Come on in, guys.” He motioned to the chairs in front of his desk.

Coach McPherson sat.

I perched my ass at the edge of the conference table.

“Or not,” Silas muttered.

“If you’re going to lecture me about my speed, then save it. I’m well aware.” I folded my arms across my chest.

“Always so personable.” Silas grinned. “Relax, I’m not trading you just because you’re skating like a kindergartener at learn-to-skate lessons. I figured you’d want an update.”

“You heard back from the guy?” I leaned forward. When Silas heard I was hiring a private investigator to find Skye’s mother, he’d hopped in and not only paid for the whole thing, but put his own guys on the case, saying she was a liability for Reaper PR. Personally, I thought he just liked to help where he could when it came to his players.

“Kind of.” He leaned back in his chair. “There’s no record of Skye Grant being born in Florida, which means either she wasn’t born there, or her last name isn’t Grant on her birth certificate. My team is going county by county, but so far there’s no birth certificates showing up with you as the father.”

“So we’re nowhere.” Fucking awesome.

“It’s a needle in a haystack, Grant, and we’re sorting a shit ton of fucking hay.” He loosened his tie. “You sure she was from Miami?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m not sure of anything.”

Silas nodded. “Then it’s going to take us some time. Skye is a pretty common name, and all we have to work off is that letter saying she’s three months old.”

“She’ll turn up,” Coach McPherson said softly. “She’ll either regret what she did and show up to get Skye back, or…”

“Or she’ll want money,” I guessed.

“For the sake of your daughter, let’s go with the more hopeful regretting reason,” Silas suggested. “In the meantime, do you have all the support you need?”