Page 54 of Rescued by the Single Dad

Brooke cleared her throat and nodded, realizing she was still holding onto a fry. She flashed a fake smile, then popped the fry into her mouth. “Yeah, just ... a lot on my mind.”

“Understandable.”

“So ... is Clint usually gone all day? Or until Talia gets home?”

A knowing, cheeky smile spread across Jagger’s full mouth beneath his beard. Was she that obvious? She thought she was a better actor than that. “Yeah. He spends his days down in the brewery. At least one of us—either Clint, Dom, Bennett, Wyatt or me try to always be there to greet the kids when they get off the bus. Then we escort them home and set them up with a snack. It’s usually Clint and I usually wrangle the kids and make dinner. Sometimes Bennett helps, too. Dom and Wyatt work in the kitchen and bar, so their schedules are wonkier. But they try to be home to put the boys to bed. Sometimes, if they can’t get coverage down at the pub, we’ll shuffle the boys to another house, or I’ll go watch them.”

“You guys seem to have a system. All the kids appear well-adjusted, happy and healthy.”

“They’re all bat-shit crazy, though.” He barked out a loving uncle laugh. “But in a good way.”

“Most kids are, aren’t they?”

All Jagger did was nod in agreement.

“So, what’s the name of the pub, anyway? I know it’s San Camanez Brewery, but what is the name of the restaurant and bar portion?”

Back came that cheeky, flirty smile that probably drove the ladies—and a lot of men, too—wild. “Sound Bites. Or more specifically Sound Bites Restaurant and Brewpub.”

Brooke smiled. “Sound Bites. I like it. Who came up with that?”

“I wish I could take credit for that cheeky pun, but it was Clint, actually. One night, we were all drinking beer from one of his batches, tossing around ideas, and he slapped his thigh and said, ‘I’ve got it.’ And he was right.”

A weird and wonderful pride filled Brooke’s chest, knowing that it’d been Clint who had ultimately named the restaurant. She didn’t know why she was proud of that, but she was.

And then she remembered how cold he’d been to her right after they had sex and that pride shriveled to a raisin in the hot summer sun.

“How’re your feet?” Jagger angled his head toward her bandaged feet, which she had propped up on the coffee table.

“Better,” she said, wiggling her pink-painted toes. “I’m doing the salt baths like Dr. Malone suggested, then putting on the antibiotic ointment and bandages. Still hurts to put pressure on them, though. Hence the butt-shuffle to the bathroom.”

Jagger smirked. “I call that ingenuity at its finest. Where there’s a will, there’s a way. But while I’m here, do you want a hand or a lift anywhere?”

Her lips twisted in thought. She just wanted company more than anything. She was bored in the house all by herself. Maybe she could get down on the ground after Jagger left and do some Pilates. She’d stay on her back, but some core and leg work might boost her mood.

“I could use a cup of tea and a glass of water,” she finally said. Then she sighed as he pried himself out of the low chair, grunting slightly when he stood up to his full height. “I feel so helpless and I hate it.”

He dismissed her woes with a head shake and a cute pout. “Don’t. We’re not bothered by it. And we all know it’s temporary. By tomorrow or the next day, you’ll be walking around by yourself, no problem.” He disappeared into the kitchen. “Just no traipsing up the hillside after wildflowers with the wildlings, okay?”

“But they’re such cute wildlings.”

His chuckle warmed her.

Clint had been just as chatty and friendly with her until they took things to the next level. Hell, they bypassed the next level and went about four more levels up from where they started.

She was no better than a Disney princess.

Nice to meet you. Oh, my hero. Kiss me. Bang me. Let’s rule a kingdom together.

She shut her eyes, dropped her chin to her chest, and shook her head in self-loathing and disapproval. How could she have been so stupid?

“What’s that look for?”

Jagger’s voice snuck up on her like a jungle cat, and she jumped and squawked, jostling her to-go container. Thankfully, none of the decadent fries spilled out. He set down her glass of water on the coffee table.

“Nothing,” she dismissed. “Just more thinking.” She reached for her sandwich, but it was so big she had to hold it with both hands. He watched her with fascination as she strategized how to get the behemoth into her mouth. Finally, she got her lips around it and took a bite.

Just like with the fries, she was moaning and closing her eyes.

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