Page 33 of Rescued by the Single Dad

By the time she woke up—from the sound of a door slamming and Talia and at least one other child yelling through the house—the sun shifted and less light poured in through the window than earlier.

She was about to check the time on Clint’s phone, but when she reached for it, she found it gone.

Everything hurt.

Her head, her body, her heart. It all just ached. A throbbing, pulsating, debilitating pain that brought tears to her eyes.

Who wanted her dead? And why?

For the briefest of moments, she thought maybe it was her father. But she dismissed that notion almost as fast as it came. She was on excellent terms with her brother—he lived in Brazil—and her mother was dead.

That was it for family.

At least family she knew well. The rest were just distant cousins, aunts and uncles she never spoke to. So why they would want to kill her just didn’t make sense.

No, it had to be somebody on that boat. Or at the very least, someone on that boat was hired to kill her.

But who?

A creak on the floor outside her bedroom door had her wiping her eyes and glancing up. The door wasn’t completely closed, just open a crack, and two curious blue eyes stared back at her. She smiled at Talia. “Hi, sweetheart.”

Talia smiled and pushed the door open wider. “Dad sent me to see if you were awake.”

Brooke patted the side of the bed and Talia climbed on, sitting close. “Did you pick enough flowers to make bouquets for all the tables?”

She shook her head. “We started to, but then we got bored. We just made enough bouquets for our houses.”

“Still great intentions.”

Talia’s face turned sad. “I don’t want you to leave. I like having you here.” Then before Brooke could say anything, not that she would have denied Talia, the little girl slid down onto her side so she lay next to Brooke facing her. Her little head on Brooke’s pillow.

“I like being here,” Brooke said. “And I think I’m going to be here for at least a little while longer. And when I finally do leave, we can definitely stay in touch. You can call me whenever you want.”

Talia brightened a little. “I don’t really remember my mom that much. But I know I miss her.”

Emotion hung hard and uncomfortable at the back of Brooke’s throat. She cupped Talia’s face. “And I’m sure she misses you.”

Talia heaved a sigh. “Dad asked me to ask you—if you were awake—if you’re a vegetarian, or if you eat meat.”

“I don’t eat red meat. But I’ll eat chicken and fish and stuff.”

Talia nodded, then she craned her body around and hollered—startling Brooke with her volume, “Dad, she doesn’t eat red meat.”

“Okay,” Clint called back.

Brooke smothered a smile and chuckle with her hand just as Talia turned back to face her. “He’s going to barbecue.”

“So, doesn’t your dad work down at the pub?”

She nodded. “Yeah, usually. But I guess today he’s not. He does have people that work in the brewery with him, so maybe he’s letting them work. The place is always really busy. If you go outside, you can hear the music.” She reached up and tugged on the end of Brooke’s braid. “Your hair is really pretty. I wish I was blonde.”

Brooke pursed her lips and shook her head. “Well, I wish I had your gorgeous dark, thick hair. Blonde isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.” She brought her voice down low to a whisper. “This isn’t even my natural color. I’m naturally a darker shade, but I got highlights.”

Talia’s eyes glimmered. “Dad said when I’m ten I can dye my hair. That’s only two years to go.”

“The countdown is on.”

“How are your feet?”

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