Page 35 of Summer with the Single Dad

And the fact that he was still soaked to the bone and his gray T-shirt clung to his torso, defining every ridge and valley made it impossible for her to argue with him any further. Her tongue tied itself into a knot and her mouth got dry. So all she could do was nod, stare and fantasize about what he looked like underneath that T-shirt.

Besides, she didn’t want to leave the island.

She didn’t want to leave the property.

And even though she wasn’t sure what was going on between her and Bennett, she knew that she liked it and she wasn’t ready for it to end.

Did she feel guilty about the joy that he and the island brought her? Every second of every day. But she was too weak to let the guilt stop her from thinking about their next encounter. From picturing his smile and the cute V-shaped worry lines between his brows when he narrowed them in confusion.

“I’m beginning to think cabin five might be cursed,” Clint murmured as they rumbled up the gravel road toward the brothers’ houses.

“Cursed?”

She had to stop at a big gate and Clint jumped out to punch in a code.

The gate swung open, and he climbed back into her vehicle.

“Yeah, a few weeks ago that cabin had issues with the gas stove, and the people who were staying there when that happened leaked my girlfriend’s whereabouts to the media. She was in hiding because someone tried to kill her. Then those guests found out she was here, took a picture of her, and it went viral that she was here and alive in a matter of minutes.”

Justine’s bottom jaw dropped.

“Second house,” Clint said, pointing to the cute, yellow two story with white trim and a blue pickup truck parked out front.

“So should I even go back to the cabin?”

“Only if you believe in that stuff. I mean, I don’t usually, but it might just be a lemon of a cabin. No ghost, just a lemon. Or there’s a ghost. It’s really about your belief in the supernatural.”

“That doesn’t instill confidence in me to return to it when it’s fixed.”

He shrugged. “You might find you prefer the RV.” He opened the truck door. “Or Bennett’s house.” He said that last part quieter as he jumped out. But she heard it. Boy, did she hear it.

Bennett didn’t greet her at the front door, but Clint let them into the house without knocking.

“We don’t lock our doors on the island. Everything is so safe. Took some getting used to, but we love how secure we are here now. How safe all the children are. They come and go as they please. Little free-range chickens who hardly ever wear shoes.” His smile was full of fatherly pride and contentment. “We’re here,” he called out upstairs.

“Not ready yet,” Bennett replied, sounding mildly flustered.

“Let’s unload your stuff while we wait for housekeeping,” Clint said, heading back out to Justine’s SUV.

She followed him and popped the hatch. They worked quickly, unpacking her temporary life into Bennett’s cozy, modern but cabin-y, living room.

“Every house has the same layout,” Clint said, plunking down the last of her totes. “I’m next door on the end. Wyatt is on the other side of Bennett. Then Dom, and Jagger is at the end. Three bedrooms and two bathrooms, up. Living room, kitchen, dining room, study, and two-piece bathroom, down. Functional, but modest.”

“Seems like the perfect size for a family to me.”

“I’ve gotta get back to work. You’ll be okay here?”

She nodded, aware that when Clint left, it would just be her and Bennett in his functional, modest, cozy house. All alone.

“Brooke is next door if you need anything. She knows you’re moving in so she might pop over for a visit. I’m not sure what her plans were today. She had a few interviews—you know, radio and television and stuff—and then she was reading over a new script. But I think that was it.”

Script?

Interviews?

Who was Clint’s girlfriend, exactly?

But it felt rude to ask, so she merely nodded and thanked him for his help.

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