Page 63 of Rescued by the Single Dad

“The couch, I guess.”

He took her over to the couch, setting her down. But then he sat down as well and brought her feet into his lap. Without saying anything, he checked her bandages, pulling them away. “Your feet look like they’re healing well. I’m sorry I forgot to dress them before I left.”

“It’s fine. I did it myself. But I should probably soak them again.”

“Right.” He was up off the couch again, taking the basin of water with him. He filled it in the kitchen with warm water and added salt, then brought it back to her. She removed the bandages and put her feet into the water. He sat back down. “Can we please discuss earlier? I fucked up.”

It seemed like it physically pained her to look at him. And fuck, he’d done that. He hated that he’d done that.

“I’m stuck here, so it’s not like I can just run upstairs away from you. Talk if you need to talk.” She crossed her arms over her chest.

“After we ...”

“Had sex? You’re a forty-four-year-old man, Clint. You should be able to say the word.”

“Right.” He nodded. “After we ... had sex ... I got spooked. I don’t regret it. And I absolutely haven’t lost interest in you.” She said he wasn’t the first man to lose interest in her. What the hell did that mean? They’d have to circle back to that later because the notion of anybody ever losing interest in Brooke boggled his damn mind. He met her gaze and continued. “This morning was … It was ... wonderful. I just ...” Clenching his teeth, he dropped his gaze from her face like a coward, and knitted his fingers together in his lap. If he didn’t, he was going to reach for her. “I thought maybe I’d taken advantage of you in a vulnerable state. And this is all so temporary …”

“I—you ... you didn’t,” she blurted. “I initiated, and I was completely sober. No advantages were taken.”

“I know ... but at first, I thought maybe I’d taken advantage of you when you were emotional. But it’s also that ... well, this is temporary. You’re going to leave ... eventually. And I just don’t know if I can do a fling. Or if my kid can even do a fling. There are a lot of hearts at play here. And I need to put the littlest heart first. She will always be my number one priority.”

Hesitantly, he lifted his gaze to hers and could see the understanding in her green eyes.

But then her brows knitted, and her head cocked to the side in a cute way. “Why does it have to be a fling?”

His mouth opened, but nothing came out.

“I mean ... yeah, me living here is temporary, but ... I like you. And the more I get to know you, the more I like. Why does it have to end when I leave? Why can’t we ...” She shrugged slightly, which caused the strap of the tank top she wore to slide off her shoulder. His eyes were drawn to that new bare skin like a magnet. “We could take it slow. But ...” She reached for his hand and laced her fingers with his. “I feel safe here. With you. I trust you.”

Knowing that she felt safe with him, that she trusted him, when even the little he knew about her told him she didn’t trust easily, just made him feel worse. Like he really took advantage of her. He took advantage of her trust. Of her vulnerability.

“You have a life in California. And when they find the person who tried to kill you, won’t you want to return to that life?”

“Ever heard of long-distance? Or airplanes?” Her smile was sassy and made her lips do this pouty thing he wanted to kiss.

Now his brain felt like it was going to explode. She’d been here all of two days, they’d had sex once and now she wanted to try long-distance?

He stood up from the couch, letting go of her hand. The look on her face crushed him. “I have to get back to the brewery. The kids are fine outside. You have the radio. I’ll see you for dinner.” Then, without looking back at her, because if he did, he’d scoop her up and carry her to his bedroom—to his bed—he hightailed it out of the house and ran down the hill.

He was a colossal idiot.

A colossal idiot and a fucking coward.

And now he’d gone and rejected Brooke again by running away—again.

Maybe it would be better if she went and stayed with Jagger. At least he knew what he wanted: a good time with no strings.

Only the idea of Brooke and Jagger together made red-hot spikes spear his stomach, and by the time he reached the back door for the brewery, he was out of breath and angry. Angry enough that if he saw Jagger, he’d consider putting his fist through his little brother’s face.

Thankfully, though, it wasn’t Jagger who was waiting for him.

It was Bennett. And he did not look happy.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

The meeting of the island elders was being held at the community center, which was just down the road from the Town Center Grocery Store.

Dom and Wyatt had to stay at the restaurant and work, and Jagger agreed to watch the kids, so it was just Bennett and Clint who climbed into Clint’s truck and headed to the meeting.

---