Brogan (Carolina Reapers 9)

“You going to see your family while you’re in LA?”

I shook my head. “I never do. And besides, if they need something from me, they’ll let me know.” It was usually money, and I usually caved. After all, they’d raised me instead of shoving my ass in foster care, so in a way, I felt I owed them. But I did have one little trip planned in LA—to my safety deposit box that I’d never bothered moving. “Besides, I have my family right here.” I gave her a squeeze.

She inhaled sharply and bit her lower lip, war raging in her eyes for the briefest second before she kissed me.

I knew it was a distraction technique, and I still didn’t care. I kissed her breathless, claiming her mouth with deft strokes of my tongue and little nips of her lower lip that had her keening in minutes. My cock stirred as the heat rose between us, just like it did every time that I kissed her.

Outside, a car honked.

Maxim was here and ready to leave for the airport.

“You’d better go,” Fiona whispered against my lips.

“Yeah, I know.” I kissed her again, keeping it short and sweet. “I just don’t want to.” This was a first for me. Hockey had always been my priority, and yet here I was lamenting leaving my girls for just a few days.

But I guess that was love for you, right? It was a slice of insanity, a life-altering epiphany that restructured everything you thought was important to the realities of what actually was. Skye and Fiona came first, now, and I was somehow remarkably at peace with it.

Because it’s right.

Maxim honked again. Impatient bastard.

My chest went tight as I looked into Fiona’s gorgeous blue eyes. “Sometimes I can’t help but think that everything happens for a reason.”

“Okay?” She smiled, titling her head at me.

“Like you deciding to take a nanny job right when Skye appeared.” Talk about fortune smiling on me.

“Right?” She brushed my hair back over my forehead.

“I mean, you could be anywhere—should be anywhere—else, using that PhD you just worked your ass off for, and yet fate threw us together.” Fine, I was getting poetic. My girl deserved the soft words, even if I felt like an idiot saying them.

“You think it was fate?” she teased. “I always figured it was Langley.”

“You know what I mean.” Maxim honked again and I groaned, loosening my hold so Fiona could slide down my body and find her feet. I turned and finished zipping up my bag, then lifted it off the bed.

“I know what you mean,” Fiona whispered, straightening my tie.

“Here’s the thing.” I cupped the back of her neck and she brought her gaze to mine. “We haven’t labeled this thing between us—”

“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?