Page 58 of Rescued by the Single Dad

“What time is it?” she asked, her voice a little scratchy, probably from the screaming.

“Three-forty,” Talia replied.

“Oh my God, I didn’t think I slept that long ...” She slid off the couch, forcing Talia to step back.

“What are you doing?” Clint asked, watching with confused amusement as Brooke started to butt-shuffle herself across the floor. All the kids were now giggling at her.

“I need to use the bathroom,” she said.

Shaking his head, Clint released Silas who seemed to have rallied from his scare, and went to Brooke on the floor. He scooped her up. “Just ask for help.”

“But I can do it myself,” she protested, giving him a glare. “I don’t want to put you out any more than I already have.” There was a coldness to her, a distance that he didn’t like.

He knew he deserved it, though.

After their time together this morning, he’d had an attack of conscience and his mind got the better of him, reminding him Brooke’s time here was temporary. Then he went weird and distant.

She was probably confused. And hurt.

Fuck.

He set her down on the toilet seat in the powder room. “Call me when you’re done.” Then he closed the pocket door and faced the children. “Snack time.”

“Yay!” they all cheered, bouncing their bodies to the kitchen.

“Can we have cereal, Daddy?” Talia asked.

“Child, you would eat cereal for every meal if I let you.”

“Which makes feeding me easy, right?”

“It’s not a balanced diet.”

“How about cereal and strawberries, then?”

Clint rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

“I’ll get the milk,” Emme announced, heading to the fridge.

“I want Frosted Flakes with just a splash of milk,” Griffin said, making an inch with his thumb and finger. “Just a splash.”

Clint rolled his eyes again and snorted. Griffin was ... an interesting kid. Very particular. Very opinionated.

Aya and Jake had already been to the pantry, where they grabbed every single box of cereal and lined them up on the table.

It made Clint realize just how much freaking cereal he had in his house. There were eight boxes—all of them open—of different cereals.

Emme grabbed bowls while Aya grabbed spoons and just as Brooke called to him from the bathroom, the kids were pouring their snacks and chatting about all the fun and festive end of the year activities they were doing at school.

She’d opened the pocket door for the bathroom and was right where he left her. “The kids are having cereal as a snack if you’d like to join them?”

“Yes, please,” she whispered as he scooped her up.

“We should probably talk about this morning,” he murmured, a heat flushing up into his cheeks when he remembered her naked body bouncing eagerly on his, and her sweet and sexy cries of ecstasy when she came.

“It’s fine,” she said dismissively. “Shouldn’t have happened. I get it. You regret it. You’ve lost interest—wouldn’t be the first man, and you probably won’t be the last. No need to rub it in. I’m sorry I ... I overstepped. I misread the signals.” She swallowed, doing everything she could not to look at him.

“That’s not it at all.” He paused, still holding her. He took a detour to the living room so the kids wouldn’t hear them. “I don’t regret this morning. And I definitely haven’t lost interest. It’s just ...”

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