Page 8 of Rescued by the Single Dad

She nodded. “I t-think s-so. T-thank you.”

Clint grunted, then turned to go.

“I ...”

He spun back around, his brows lifted, waiting for her to finish.

“I d-don’t know w-who I can t-trust.”

That clawing feral need to protect was back, only this time instead of being nauseating, it was a burning sensation in his gut that made his fingers twitch and his heart rate spike. “You can trust me,” He reassured her, trying to push down a flutter in his throat.

She attempted a smile, but it didn’t amount to much. “Can I just ... th-think on things for a bit? Is that o-okay?”

“Anything you need. But you’re safe here.”

Now, her smile was honest, though still small. “Thank you.”

Clint turned to go again, closing the door behind him.

It wasn’t long before he heard a terrified gasp on the other side of the door, followed quickly by sobbing. If he were to guess, she’d probably looked at herself in the mirror and saw her makeup. She may have even checked out her legs and feet.

He thought about knocking to see if she was okay, but he also knew that she needed this time to herself to try to make sense of what had happened.

He grabbed clothes from his dresser—a pair of gray sweatpants, a white T-shirt and some socks—then laid them out on his bed for her. He knocked gently on the door. “I’ve laid some clothes on the bed for you.”

“Thank you,” she said through the sobs.

He paused for another moment with his ear next to the door. Then he pursed his lips and headed back downstairs.

“Mermaid back in the water?” Jagger’s sarcasm was never in short supply.

Clint threw his brother an irritated look. “You can go. Thank you for your help.”

Jagger rolled his eyes. “Fine, but you keep me updated, okay?” He headed for the door, but stopped when his hand grabbed the handle. “Scary shit, huh? Being pushed off a boat like that.”

“Very scary,” Clint agreed.

“What are you going to do?”

Clint shrugged. “Whatever she needs.”

“Weird that she doesn’t want to call the cops. What do you think that’s about?”

Clint shrugged again and shoved his hands into his jean pockets. “No idea. But I’m sure she has her reasons.”

“You’re being awfully accepting of the situation. Normally, the Clint McEvoy I know is suspicious as fuck of everyone.”

“Who says I’m not suspicious?”

“You’re suspicious of her?” Jagger pried, tipping his chin toward upstairs. “Doesn’t seem that way.”

Truthfully, Clint wasn’t suspicious of Brooke. But he sure as hell wanted to know who tried to kill her. Of that, he was incredibly suspicious. He was also really fucking tired. “Thanks for watching Talia for me.”

“Sorry your wallowing was cut short.”

Clint snorted. “Probably for the best.”

Jagger glanced toward the stairs again. “You gonna tell the others?”

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