Page 87 of Luck of the Draw

“Hi,” she returned, looking at him with the slightest bit of alarm.

Brennan sat down next to her. “I hate to spring this on you like this, but my mama is right up the street and practically insisted on coming by.”

Her eyebrows gathered. “Your mom?”

“Yeah, she’s been asking to meet you since all this happened. I’m sorry it’s such short notice, but she can be kind of insistent.”

“It’s okay.” Skye tugged at the robe. “Do I have time to get dressed?”

“Of course.” Brennan stood up and held her good hand while he slipped his arm behind her back to help her stand up. “She understands dropping in unannounced is rude, and she can wait for you to get dressed.”

“It’s not rude.” She shuffled down the hall to the bedroom while he held the base of her spine. “It’s nice that you have parents who care.”

In the bedroom, Brennan retrieved some clothes, set them on the bed, and helped Skye peel off the robe. He kept his eyes glued to her hands, arms, and face to allow her a scant amount of modesty during the humbling process. The bruising on her clavicle was starting to fade, and she was starting to look a lot healthier.

How much time do we have left, baby girl?

He couldn’t ask that. She didn’t know. Neither did he.

All the time in the world felt like not enough.

After gingerly guiding her arms through a camisole and cardigan, Brennan removed the walking boot to slide on her jeans, but he paused as she gripped her calf.

“Look at my poor, skinny calf,” Skye said, squeezing the muscle and then shifting her knees so her calves were parallel to each other. One was noticeably softer and slimmer from depleted muscle mass.

He placed his hand on the back of it, giving it a firm rub. “That’s normal. Once you’re up and walking around, you’ll build up your muscles again.” He rubbed it again, causing her to murmur a quiet sound of satisfaction, and he bit his bottom lip.

It had now beensixweeks. And Skye was leaving in an undetermined amount of time. And they were probably never going to be wrapped up in each other again. And that was really friggin’ disappointing. It was so disappointing that Brennan couldn’t even see himself going after another woman for a while after she was gone, and the awareness of that struck him. The only two other times he’d had feelings only to have them dashed for whatever reason, he’d immediately thrown himself into the arms of new women.

But Skye was different, and Brennan was probably ruined becausethatwas the only coping mechanism he had. Unless he went to therapy like Connor and Liza were always trying to suggest, especially lately, and that would never fucking happen. That was a surefire way to dismantle his life completely and probably take out every single relationship he had.

If Brennan wound up getting comfortable talking about his “problems,” he might end up talking about them to people who weren’t his therapist. He might end up saying something to one of his friends. And if he said something to one of his friends about some of his “problems,” none of them would trust him anymore. And the only thing Brennan really had going for him in life was his bond with all those friends. So as long as they were all part of his life, therapy just wasn’t an option.

After helping Skye finish dressing and strapping all the equipment back on, he handed her a brush, which she used to sweep through her hair. It had gotten longer. It fell in cascading, fiery auburn waves over her good shoulder as she brushed it out.

If I were that brush, I would never—

Brennan turned away to press the heels of his palms into his eyes as he resisted the urge to groan at himself.

If he was having random thoughts about being ahairbrushjust to be completely wrapped up in her hair…

He’d officially lost his mind. Going without sex for this long was compromising his mental faculties.

Once Skye was feeling good to go, Brennan wrapped his arm around her waist and slowly walked her to the front room. He’d just helped her sit on the couch when his phone chirped with a text message in his pocket.

Ophelia McCarthy-Latimer: I tried.

Brennan Riley: I appreciate it

Minutes later, there was a knock at the door.

Brennan started to approach the door when he caught a glimpse of Skye appearing to brace herself, and he paused to lean down to kiss her lips.

“Don’t be nervous. My mama’s super sweet even if she is a little insistent.”

“Uh-huh,” Skye remarked through a nervous little laugh.

Brennan opened the door, and Constance strode in, wearing a pristine, ivory Chanel skirt suit and crossing the room with perfect posture as usual. She clasped his cheeks, pulling his face down, and planted a kiss on his forehead.

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