Page 28 of Rescued by the Single Dad

Brooke pressed her lips together. “I mean ... maybe. Inez handled most of my fan mail. I used to, but it just got to be too much. So I had her take over. Both the email letters and the physical ones.”

“And she’d tell you if she found something suspicious?”

“I trust Inez, yes. She wouldn’t keep anything threatening from me.”

“Okay.” He stroked his chin. “Go in and make a list of what you need. Then I’ll head into town. Maybe you should go take a nap upstairs. I agree, the girls are great, but they’re exhausting.”

“They’re wonderful ...” She fought a yawn and lost. “But, yeah, they are.”

He smiled and shoved his hands into his pockets, tipping his gaze up to hers in a way that made everything inside her get hot, tight, and twisted. “I want to help you, Brooke.”

She swallowed. “Thank you.”

His smile was small and thin, then he nodded and together they went back into the house, but she could feel his eyes on her the entire time she walked ahead of him into the kitchen. Like two blue balls of fire warming her back just right. Not to the point where she got burned or felt pain. But just comfort, arousal, excitement even.

She sat down beside Talia, who was almost done with her lunch, and Clint put a pad of paper and a pen beside her.

“What’s that for?” Talia asked.

“I’m going to pop to the store and pick up a few things for Brooke. Do you need anything?”

“Can you buy a watermelon?” Talia asked.

“I’ll see if they have any good ones.”

Brooke wrote down a few items of clothes, deodorant, face wash, moisturizer, a pair of sandals, a bra, and underwear. In reality, her list could have been ten pages long, but she didn’t want Clint to think she was high-maintenance. And also, having to write down her bra size for him was mortifying enough.

He glanced at the list and made a noise in his throat.

“I think that’s it,” she said. “And I don’t really care about brands.”

“Good. Because the Town Center Grocery Store usually only carries two varieties. Unscented and scented.”

Oh lovely.

He focused on Talia. “Tal, be good. Your uncles are down at the pub if you need anything.”

“I know, Dad.”

“And the emergency cell phone is plugged into the charger. Text me if you need anything.”

“I know, Dad.” She rolled her big blue eyes, then turned to Brooke. “He acts like I’m five.”

Clint tugged on Talia’s braid. “And I’ll start treating you like you’re five and sending you to bed at a time for five-year-olds if you keep throwing all this sass at me.”

She tipped her head back and stuck her tongue out at him, but it was all in play. “Drive safe, Dad.”

It was barely noticeable, and it disappeared almost immediately, but Brooke caught it because she was studying the man like a bug under a scope. His expression changed to one of intense pain the moment Talia told him to drive safe. Like someone had run him through with a spear.

But faster than Wolverine, he recovered, the wound sealed up, and it was like it never happened. He pasted on a big smile and nodded. “Always, kiddo. Be good.” Then he graced Brooke with another one of those delicious dimply smiles and was on his way out.

“After lunch, let’s go pick wildflowers up the hill,” Emerson suggested. “Make bouquets for the tables in the pub.”

The other two girls nodded.

“It’s behind all our houses, so nobody will see you, Brooke,” Emerson said. “You’ll be safe.”

Brooke smiled, and her head bobbed, though her mind remained on the man who was outside and starting up his truck. There was immense pain there. Grief and guilt, too. She saw it all in a flash in his expressive eyes. But it was practically tangible, and it rocked her to her core. Like seeing her family’s pain in someone else’s face. Her throat grew tight, and tears burned the backs of her eyes.

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