“Hi, darling. How are you?”
“I’m just fine, Mama.”
She continued to hold one of his cheeks and pursed her lips. “You look tired, sugar.”
“I’m good, Mama.” Brennan casually turned to Skye and held Constance’s back to guide her toward a chair opposite the sofa. “I’d like you to meet Isabel Cochran. She goes by Skye. Skye, this is my mother, Constance Riley.”
“It’s nice to meet you,” Skye said, holding out her good hand. “You’ll have to excuse me for not getting—”
“Oh my lord,” Constance said. She clutched her pearls and then pushed past Brennan to sit on the couch next to Skye. “You poor, sweet thing. You have so many injuries.”
“I…uh…well,” Skye stammered, glancing down at herself and absently touching the arm brace and sling. “Yeah, I got pretty banged up.”
“Brennan, you didn’t tell me she was still in such a state,” Constance clipped, turning to mildly scold him. “I wish you’d called me.”
Brennan sat in the chair opposite them. “I know, Mama. I’ve been a little bit busy.”
“It looks worse than it is,” Skye said. “I’m actually healing up really well. They just don’t want me to move my arm too much. I should be out of this stuff in another month or so.” She glanced at Brennan. “And I’m the reason he’s been so busy. He’s having to wait on me hand and foot.”
“Well, not entirely,” he said dismissively, offering a smile.
She smiled back. “Yes, entirely.”
“Did he tell you I offered to reach out to your family?” Constance asked, picking up Skye’s hand and holding it in her lap. “The hospital had none of your information, so I wasn’t able to. I’d still like to. This is such a tragedy, and I think we all have needed more support.”
The urge to swoop in like a white knight and save his damsel from Constance’s well-meaning intrusiveness had Brennan opening his mouth to gently protest, but Skye caught his gaze and lifted her fingertips as if to tell him to stand down.
He smiled.
Maybe damsels had every ability to save themselves once in a while.
“I appreciate that more than I can tell you,” Skye said, turning to Constance. “Unfortunately, I don’t have a whole lot of family to speak of. My parents both passed away when I was little, and I…” She paused to swallow and blink a couple of times. “I actually grew up in foster care. So there’s not really anyone to reach out to.”
Between the information itself and the fact that Skye had offered it so willingly, Brennan nearly fell out of his chair.
Was it even the truth? One of the few things he knew about Skye was that she hid things about herself. Then again, she said something to that effect while she was still in the hospital. But then maybe she just wanted to be as honest as possible with his mother. It seemed true, and the idea of Skye being an orphan raised in the system caused his heart to murmur a sensation like it had cracked.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Constance murmured, and Brennan blinked the sudden sting out of his eyes, andoh sweetheartindeed. “I am so sorry to hear that.”
“It’s really not a big deal,” Skye said. “I really appreciate you wanting to reach out to my family, and I couldn’t say no to something like that without a good reason.”
“You don’t owe anyone a reason or an explanation for anything.” Constance stroked Skye’s hair. “You’re such a lovely young lady. I’m so glad I’m getting the chance to meet you.”
Skye offered a small smile. “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you, too.”
“Are you from New Orleans?” Constance looked at Brennan, and he managed to keep a pleasant, yet neutral face. “Is Brennan hosting you because you live out of town?”
Skye’s mouth hung open for a microsecond before she recovered herself, speaking evenly, but carefully. “I am. When I was little, I lived in Tremé. After that, I lived all over because of… um… issues with the foster system.” Skye paused, glancing at Brennan and then back at Constance. “I’ve lived all over the place, but yes, I’m from here.”
More curious puzzle pieces that gave Brennan an ever-clearer picture of her. One that was still largely incomplete and overcast with the distressing information about both her childhood and the things she was currently dealing with. And all of it came together in a low, slow simmer that continued to soften his already mushy heart.
Brennan set his elbow on the arm of the chair, cheek resting in his palm as he watched Skye talk with his mother, peeling back the layers of her tumultuous life, in the aftermath of harrowing circumstances, in the face of a life-threatening presence looming somewhere out there in New Orleans, and out of nowhere…holy fuck.
He loved her.
Helovedher.
Being a man who had been deeply and horrifyingly in love twice in his life, there was no mistaking this uniquely penetrating ache in his chest. Nothing else felt like this. It was a feeling of excavation taking place in his chest. The carving of a new hole in his heart to go along with the other two, because the end of his time with Skye had been established at the very beginning. Kind of like how fate knew when Brennan fell in love with Liza at first sight that she just wasn’t meant to be with him. Even with everything that had happened over the past couple of months, Skye was still hell-bent on leaving. She’d never even hinted at changing her mind about that.
