Brogan (Carolina Reapers 9)

She tilted her head to protest, and I silenced her with a quick, soft kiss.

She gasped.

I pulled away before she could argue about the workload and headed into the kitchen, where Axel already had the guys setting up an assembly line for washing and drying the dishes.

I took my spot drying and stacking, since I was the only one who knew where the majority of the stuff got put away at my house. Fiona had moved a thing here or there, but for the most part, she’d left my over-organized stuff exactly where I liked it, fitting her things in along the way, exactly how she’d fit into my life.

It kind of felt like I was a giant, immovable boulder, and she was a stream, rushing down the mountain to change the landscape, flowing all around me without knocking me down the hill. She changed everything, touched every part of me, made my entire life better, with so much peace and ease that I hadn’t had to do anything but go along with the change.

“Any news on Skye’s mother?” Axel asked as he finished rinsing one of the platters. “Fucking stop it,” he snapped at McKittrick, who was trying to spray Greene with the faucet hose. “I swear, either they’re getting younger or we’re getting older.”

“Both,” I answered. “And actually, yeah.” I dried the platter. “We sent Skye’s DNA into one of those ancestry places so we’re just waiting for the results to see if it pings with a lead. I’d settle for a distant cousin at this point if it led us in the right direction.”

Truth was, the longer Skye was in my arms, the more I only wanted to find her mother so she’d sign over her rights. I was past wanting an explanation—though Skye deserved one—and way past wanting to work out some kind of amicable custody arrangement. Fuck that. I wasn’t giving that woman a single chance to abandon Skye again. My daughter would never be put in a position to trust that woman again.

“That’s brilliant!” Maxim exclaimed.

“It was actually Fiona’s idea,” I admitted. “She said something about wondering if one day some unknown sibling would find her with that since she doesn’t keep in touch with her dad, and it sparked the idea.”

“You’d better hold onto that one,” Axel noted, handing me another plate. “And you know I’m not talking about the dishes.” He nodded back toward the dining table.

“Oh come on, don’t you know, they’re not actually…dating,” Maxim muttered, drying a glass.

“I’m sorry?” I snapped.

His eyebrows rose. “Evie asked her about you two the last time she babysat…what was it, a couple of weeks ago?”

I nodded. I’d taken Fiona skating one night, after Silas had assured me the arena would be empty. It was, of course—Silas never did any of us dirty, and it had been a good…date. At least that’s what I’d thought.

“She said you guys weren’t labeling what you were.” Maxim’s brow furrowed. “Is that right?”

I opened my mouth and shut it, then repeated the action.

“Speechless isn’t a good thing,” Maxim whispered.

“No, I mean…” I shook my head and dried another plate on auto-pilot. “I knew she didn’t want to label us, but that was months ago. We’ve pretty much been together since the beginning of October.” Weren’t we? We spent every waking moment together when I was home. She hadn't gone back to her place to sleep in over a month, and she slept in my bed every night that I was home.

“You’d better lock it down,” Axel muttered, sending another glance in the direction of the women. “Because you’re not going to find someone like her ever again. And I mean it.”

“Lock it down?” I blinked. “How the fuck would you suggest I do that?” If she still thought we weren’t even labeled… He has to be working off old information.

“Women like rings.” Axel shrugged.

“This from the guy who conned his wife into marrying him with his Reaper contract,” Cannon scoffed.

“Says the guy who woke up married in Vegas.” Maxim rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry?” Cannon leaned left and right, as if he was looking for something behind Maxim. “Do I see a woman within fifty yards who can tolerate your shit for longer than a night?”

“Damn!” Sterling laughed. “He’s got you there.”

“Fuck off.” Maxim set the next glass down with a little more force than required.

“Break the stemware and you can deal with the wrath of Fiona,” I warned him. “She picked it all out herself last week.”

Maxim was remarkably gentle with the next one. “My point is that you can’t just unload a ring on a woman you’ve known for a few months.”

“Sure you can,” Sawyer argued in the same hushed tone we were all using. “I mean, once you find the one, you just…know. What’s the point of wasting time?”