Page 95 of Choosing Skyler

“Brady. That’s… Shouldn’t we talk about this?” I squeak.

“She’s right, Brady. This is a big…” Ms. Simmons starts, but Brady holds his hand up.

“No!” he says, cutting her off. “That’s my decision. I’d list a charity to take it all before I would leave it to fall into Eric’s hands. We can talk about adjusting it in the future, but I want something in place now,” he states firmly.

She holds her hands up in surrender. “Understood. I’ll prepare everything this evening for you to sign in the morning. Can you email me the contact information for Devon and Skyler? I need phone numbers, addresses, email addresses, dates of birth and social security numbers.”

“I can do that now. Thank you, Ms. Simmons,” he says, pulling out his phone to send the information since he has all of our information saved.

“One more question and then I have to head back inside for my next hearing. Since I’ll be typing up your will, do you want me to adjust your medical power of attorney as well? You have it set for Devon Mitchell with Timothy Mitchell as a secondary contact right now,” she says.

“Yes. I can’t believe I forgot about that. Skyler Jennings needs to be primary with Devon Mitchell secondary,” he tells her.

“Okay. I really have to get back inside, but I’ll see you in the morning. Enjoy the rest of your day,” she smiles before turning to head back into the courthouse.

Brady leads me to his mom’s car in the parking lot. I lean back against the passenger side and stare up at him. He rests his hands on top of the car, caging me between them and leans down until his forehead meets mine.

“You won,” I whisper, reaching up to cup his cheek.

His eyes flash with heat. “Wewon, Beautiful. Let’s gohome.”

Brady

My thoughts are running wild as I drive us back to my house.My house.No one can take it from me. It’s mine, just like the girl in the passenger seat. As early as it is in our relationship, I know I want to marry Skyler. We’ve been through more together in a few weeks then some couples go through in a lifetime together. Time doesn’t matter when you know you’re with the right one. Having a will and power of attorney drawn up is just a temporary fix until I can make Skyler my wife. I even know how I want to propose.

Devon’s voice comes through the car speakers, pulling me from my thoughts. “Hey, man. Is the hearing over? What happened?”

I look over to see that Skyler answered my phone. I didn’t even hear it ringing.

She grins at my confused expression and answers him. “Hey, Dev. The hearing is over. We’re on the way back to the house now. I think Brady’s in shock. He didn’t even hear the phone ringing.” She giggles.

“Good shock?” Devon asks warily.

“All good, man. We won,” I tell him. “Eric won’t be touching shit.”

He lets out a heavy breath. “That’s great man. We need to go celebrate when you get back tomorrow.”

“We’re not coming back tomorrow,” I tell him, smiling over at Skyler. “I have to go to the attorney’s office to sign all the paperwork tomorrow and Skyler wants to stay for a few days. So, we’ll be here until this weekend at least.”

“Really? That’s great, Sweets. I was worried about you being so far away. I’m glad you’re doing okay,” he says with pride.

“I love it here. It feels like home even though I’ve never been here before,” she tells him.

“Itishome,” he says. “We’ll set something up for next week after you two get back. Let me know when you’re flying in, and I’ll get you from the airport.”

“We will,” I tell him. “Thanks for calling.”

“I love you guys. Have fun,” Devon says.

“Love you, too,” we both reply before he ends the call.

I turn to Skyler when we stop at a red light. “You feel up to doing some shopping? We can grab some supplies to have a beach day tomorrow after our meeting with Ms. Simmons.”

She smiles and nods excitedly. “I need a bathing suit too. I didn’t pack one,” she says as I make a right on Dam Neck Road to take us to Lynnhaven Mall.

After leaving the mall, we stop at Kroger for groceries. Once we unload the car and put the groceries away, Skyler insists that we go over to Timothy’s and bring the boxes of my mom’s things back.

“We don’t have to unpack them today, but I’d feel better if they were at least here—where they belong,” she argues when I try to talk her into resting for the rest of the day.