Brogan (Carolina Reapers 9)

Maxim’s jaw flexed, already wearing his game face because the guy didn’t know how to fucking relax. Didn’t know how to live off the ice.

I guess I hadn’t either, not until Skye and Fiona.

“Yeah,” I muttered as we turned out of the neighborhood. “My focus is right where it needs to be.”

14

Fiona

We walked toward the players’ lot, Brogan leading the way so he could hold the door open for me while I cradled Skye in my arms. She’d had enough of the carrier by mid-game, and had taken a quick nap even at the end when they won, and the arena had erupted in a fit of cheers. Thank goodness for noise-canceling headphones.

She was fully awake as I stepped through the door Brogan held open for us, and the look in his eyes made my heart stutter. When he smiled like that, it turned me into a moony-eyed princess, and with him just coming off of a win, he was extra cheery, which suited him as much as the doom-and-gloom demon he was known for.

“I love it when you wear my jersey,” he said as I paused in the doorway to grin up at him.

“I love—” The words clogged in my throat, and I quickly pushed out, “wearing your name on my back.”

He didn’t miss a beat, just grinned down at me and let the door close behind us when we’d fully stepped through.

I cringed, internally scolding myself. It had been weeks since he’d told me he loved me, and I’d been too much of a coward to say it back. He didn’t seem to mind, though, never once pressing the issue. The man was confident enough not to let something like my hesitance shake him, and I adored that about him.

And it’s not like I didn’t want to say it back. I did. I’d almost said it a dozen times, like when we’d been decorating the Christmas tree or turning the rest of his house into a winter wonderland or the countless times we’d been in bed together. But the icy fear in my veins always stopped me.

What if I said the words, and the magic popped like a soap bubble? What if the second I gave him my heart, the spell broke, and the passion disappeared? Isn’t that what always happened to my mother? Isn’t that why I’d never wanted to commit to anyone in the past?

But, to be fair, I’d never felt this way with anyone before—

“Demon! Can we have a word! Please!” Shouts came from a crowd of reporters who had somehow made it onto the players’ lot. Several were crowded around other players, but the one who was shouting came from a man beelining it for us.

Brogan’s features shifted the instant the reporter reached us, and he stepped a little in front of me as if he could shield me from it.

“I’m not in the mood to chat,” he said, his tone icy and rough.

“Just one question,” the reporter persisted, and I swallowed hard. He looked like a weasel in a two-sizes too-big suit and greased back hair, and he clearly wasn’t catching Brogan’s no-reporter vibe right now. The reporter looked to me, then Skye. “You’ve been awfully quiet regarding your daughter,” he said. “The fans want to know more about her—”

“She’s not up for discussion,” Brogan cut him off. He’d given little details to the people Langley approved of, but on his own terms. And from the tension in his shoulders? I could tell he most certainly didn’t want to be ambushed like this. “Go talk to Maxim,” Brogan waved his arm toward his friend, who was graciously, if not bored looking, answering questions.

“He’s not a newly single father,” the guy pressed, and I sighed. Why couldn’t he take a hint? Seeing that he wasn’t going to stop, I moved behind Brogan, ready to get Skye to the safety of the car.

The reporter noted my movements and stepped directly into my path, stopping me short. He held out his phone, poising the camera directly in Skye’s face. I turned away, trying to shield her from him. “What the hell?” I snapped, and Skye cried—

A thunk sounded over her cries.

One second the reporter had been standing trying to get the picture of Skye, and the next he was on the ground, gripping his nose between his fingers.

Brogan towered over him, his fists curled and shaking. Fuck, his entire body was shaking as he stood over the reporter.

“Stay the fuck away from them!” he growled, and then Maxim was racing across the lot, stepping in front of him.

“Demon,” he said, forcing him to look at him. “Take a breath, man. He’s down.” Maxim shot me a reassuring look as if to say I’ve got him, and I nodded, hurrying to the car. I heard Maxim call for security just as I got Skye safely in her car seat.