Page 35 of Rescued by the Single Dad

He hinged forward and scooped her up. She wrapped her arms around his neck, and their eyes locked. His smile—and that wicked dimple—stole the oxygen clean from her lungs. She smiled back and told the butterflies in her belly to get a grip.

“Easy does it, Dad,” Talia said behind them. “You’ve got precious cargo.”

Clint’s chuckle was deep and raspy in his throat, and Brooke’s nipples grew hard from the sound. “Yes, ma’am. Carrying Brooke like she’s a Faberge egg.”

“What’s that?” Talia asked.

“A very expensive piece of breakable art,” Brooke said just as they reached the landing at the bottom of the stairs.

“Well, treat her like an egg, then,” Talia said, skipping around them so she was in front of Brooke and Clint.

Clint set Brooke down on the couch. “Just gotta throw the shrimp on the barbie, then we’ll eat.”

“Are we actually having shrimp?” Brooke asked.

His smile became sexy and lopsided. “No. We’re having chicken and vegetable skewers.”

Talia hopped up onto the couch beside Brooke, excitement and innocence in her big, blue eyes. “I’m having hotdogs. I don’t like chicken. Or vegetables.”

“You’ll eat some vegetables,” Clint said, his tone stern. “Cucumbers, at least.”

Talia rolled her eyes. “I’ll eat a few. As long as you slice them thin.”

Clint ignored his offspring and focused his attention on Brooke. “Would you like the tablet to check up on things?”

She nibbled her lip again and thought for a moment, but then nodded.

He grabbed it from where it was plugged in on a credenza and handed it to her.

She thanked him.

She did want to know what was going on in the world. How her disappearance and presumed death were being handled.

Guilt formed a nauseous tidal wave in her gut. She needed to at least reach out to her brother. Rocco, a veterinarian, worked at a conservation and rehab facility for endangered animals in Rio. They mainly dealt with animals that were rescued from trafficking, but they also had animals that had been injured or orphaned.

She visited Rocco last year, and he took her to the facility. She got to snuggle with a baby howler monkey and hang out with a sleepy sloth.

Surely, someone would call Rocco, or he’d hear it on the news.

She needed to reach out to him.

But then ... if her brother didn’t react to her death, that could be a red flag to her killer.

A hot tear slid down her cheek.

“What’s wrong?” Talia asked, concern in her voice. “Dad! Brooke is crying. Something is wrong.”

“It’s fine,” Brooke said, smiling through the pain in her heart and wiping her eyes just as Clint came barreling back into the living room from the kitchen.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“She’s crying. She must be hurt,” Talia said. “Are you hurt?”

Brooke shook her head and sucked in a sharp breath. “It’s fine. I was just thinking about my brother and how I wish I could tell him I’m okay. But I know that if he acts like I’m fine—”

“That could be a red flag to the killer,” Clint finished. Understanding dawned in his eyes.

Brooke nodded. “Yeah.”

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