Page 67 of Summer with the Single Dad

Justine’s gaze sliced to Bennett. She didn’t want to overstep. As much as she was enjoying breakfast with him and kids, if this was too much for him, he needed to tell her.

He nodded and shrugged, which Aya took as a green light and she smiled with a mouthful of strawberry.

Another twenty minutes at the house with the girls brushing their hair and teeth, and Bennett double-checking they had everything in their backpacks. Then they were all out the door.

Even though he told her that he and his brothers all walked the kids to the bus stop every morning, it completely evaded her mind until they stepped out in the drizzly morning and three more dads and four more kids yawned as they walked across the gravel.

The kids eyed her warily.

“How’re you settling into Casa Bennito?” asked the only brother she hadn’t officially met yet. This was probably Wyatt. His hair was dark brown and his blue-hazel eyes twinkled with a class-clown quality Justine was sure attracted ladies like sharks to chum.

“Always a chocolate on my pillow,” she said, glancing at Bennett.

“There is?” Aya asked, taking Justine’s hand. That gesture wasn’t lost on any of Bennett’s brothers.

“I’m kidding,” Justine said, squeezing her hand. “But it’s been lovely. I have three wonderful hosts.”

“Are you baking cakes for the cakewalk, Uncle Ben?” the little boy holding Wyatt’s hand asked.

“I am,” Bennett said. “Justine is going to help me. Any flavor requests?”

“Funfetti,” the boy said. “With gummy bears.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” Bennett winked at his nephew before turning back to Justine. “How skilled are you at Funfetti?”

“It’s been a while, but I think I can handle it.”

The little boy beamed.

“Dad, is Justine coming to the funfair tomorrow?” Emme asked. She’d politely requested a tight single Dutch braid from Justine, and although Justine’s hair was poker-straight and Emme’s was lush, thick and curly, the little girl seemed happy with what Justine managed to accomplish. Aya wanted pigtails not braided, sticking out the sides of her head like bike handlebars. Then she shook her head quickly back and forth, so the hair smacked her in the face and she giggled like a loon.

Intrusive moths took flight in Justine’s belly as all eyes fell to Bennett. Even Justine waited with bated breath for an answer.

He absorbed the intensity of the moment, but then brushed it off with a casual shrug. “If she likes. It’s open to the public. The more money the school can raise, the better.”

That seemed to appease Emme, and she nodded. “You’ll come, right, Justine?”

“I, uh …”

“Oh, please,” Aya said, jerking on her arm.

“Aya, don’t be so rough with Justine,” Emme chastised at the same time she slipped her hand into Justine’s free hand, grinning up at Justine with hope in her sloe-brown eyes. “But you will, right?”

How could she say no to either of these children?

With reluctance, making her peanut butter toast uncomfortably churn in her belly, she nodded. “Wouldn’t miss it.”

All the men exchanged silent looks among them, but nobody said anything.

They reached the bus stop just as the rain picked up. Kids pulled hoods over their heads, Emme unfurled an umbrella with smiling cartoon llamas on it and she, Aya, and Clint’s daughter, Talia, huddled under it. The boys didn’t seem bothered by the rain and were doing parkour off some large boulders and logs.

“You don’t have to come,” Bennett said to her under his breath. “I can make up an excuse to the girls. They’ll be fine.”

Well, now she didn’t know if this was him kindly giving her an out, or his way of gently asking her not to come.

He must have read her mind. She’d never been very good at keeping her emotions off her face, and panic filled his blue gaze. “This isn’t me telling you not to come. I’d love it if you came. But if you felt backed into a corner by the girls, I can help you get out of it. But I’m not—” He exhaled and shoved his fingers into his hair. “I’m not telling you not to come. I think it’d be great if you came.”

She didn’t have to turn her head to know that his brothers were watching—and listening—to their exchange with keen interest.

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