Page 132 of Rescued by the Single Dad

Her pulse raced through her veins, and her cheeks warmed.

“Can we eat?” Jake asked. “Aunt Carla liked Spanakopitas and I do, too, so I really want one.”

“Yes,” Wyatt said with a laugh, ruffling his son’s hair, “we can eat.”

Everyone dove in.

Rocco took a step back into the living room to give the family some space, so Brooke did the same. The kids were loud enough, though, that she could hear the stories and the questions about their mothers. The dads gave their best answers, but she could tell some of them were getting a little choked up.

“Where’s Brooke and Rocco?” one of the kids asked after a few minutes.

“It’s okay,” Brooke said, her own throat tighter than normal. “This is for you guys.”

Little feet thundered on the floor, then all the kids appeared, glaring at her and Rocco as they sat on the couch.

“You helped us do this. You’re family now. You need to come and eat with us, too,” Emme said. “We couldn’t have done this without you.”

Clint appeared behind the children and nodded. “Please, join us.” That heat was still there in his eyes. It confused her, even though it still made her belly quiver and her heart take flight.

She and Rocco agreed and joined the family in the kitchen where everyone filled their plates.

“Aunt Carla liked Spanakopitas, Aunt Sheila liked chicken parmesan, my mom liked Pad Thai, and Aunt Remy liked pizza,” Talia said, after Brooke and Rocco found spots to lean on in the kitchen. “It’s a weird mix of food.”

“It’s a delicious mix of food,” Rocco added.

Brooke picked up one of the Spanakopitas on her plate and took a bite. Clint’s eyes on her were like laser beams. Hot and potent. Deliberate and life-altering.

She didn’t want to get her hopes up, though.

He’d basically ignored her for three days.

This was his MO. Whenever something got too hard, he just shut down.

Lost in thought, and avoiding Clint’s eyes with every ounce of self-restraint, she didn’t even hear Rocco’s phone ring in his pocket. Only when he put it to his ear, did she rejoin the present.

“Sergeant Fox, how are you?” Rocco asked, putting his plate down on the counter. “Yeah, things have been a little crazy here, too. Endless paparazzi and media. You’d think a celebrity had never returned from the dead before.”

Nobody laughed, and Rocco frowned when his joke fell flat.

“Any new news?” Rocco asked. There was a long pause where Sergeant Fox spoke. “Seriously?” Rocco asked. “I’m ... I’m going to put you on speakerphone. Hang on. Also, there are kids here, so ...”

He hit the speaker and held out his phone.

“As I said,” Sergeant Fox started, “it looks like we’ve caught who pushed you off the boat.”

“What?” Brooke nearly dropped her plate. She set it beside Rocco’s. Tingles raced through her arms and legs. Her brain was a little fuzzy, like when you sit up too quickly and get light-headed. “Wh-who?” she stammered. “Who pushed me? Who wants me dead?”

“Well ... it looks like it wasn’t a hired hit at all. Just an obsessed fan.”

Eyes all over the kitchen went wide as saucers.

“H-how did you find the guy?”

“An anonymous tip. Apparently, he was a waiter at the party. We raided the man’s house late last night and found photos of you all over his wall. Just a crazed stalker fan who took things too far, it seems. We have no reason to suspect your father, aunt or uncle anymore.”

If she didn’t sit down, she was going to puke.

Slowly, with her back to the cupboards, she slid down to her butt, blinking and absorbing everything the sergeant just said.

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