Page 135 of Summer with the Single Dad

Giggling, she breathed right on his nose. “Do I?”

“Oh god. It’s like something died in your mouth. Go brush your teeth, you rancid beast.” He stood up, causing her to tumble on to the leg portion of the lounge chair in a fit of giggles.

He returned to the kitchen, where Emerson was busy getting her bread into the toaster for her peanut butter toast. “’Morning, sunshine.”

She beamed at him like the little ray of sunshine that she was. “’Morning, Dad.”

Aya followed him into the house too. “What is Justine doing today?”

“She’s going to yoga, then the spa with Brooke,” Emme said, opening the fridge to get herself the peanut butter.

“That’s right. Uncles Dom, Wyatt, Jagger, and I will be working down at the pub as we’re hosting a wedding. So Uncle Clint is on kid-duty today.”

“Ooh, a wedding,” Aya cooed. “Can we come watch?”

“No.”

She pouted again. “No fair.”

“Is the wedding of the man who hurt Justine?” Emerson asked.

“Someone hurt Justine?” Aya’s big, brown eyes were the size of saucers. “Who would do that? How’d he hurt her? Did she punch him back?” She turned to Bennett. “Can I punch him, Dad?”

Too many questions for that hour of the morning. He needed more coffee. Topping himself up from the French press, he blinked a few times and took a cautious sip, turning to Emerson first to address her question. As well as ask a few of his own follow up ones. “What did Justine tell you?”

Emme shrugged. “I saw her yesterday when I was sketching and she was upset. I asked her what happened, and she said her old boyfriend who broke her heart tried to hurt her again. She said he said some really mean things. I brought her into the house, gave her a glass of water and a hug. Then she seemed better. We sketched together outside until Aya returned with Uncle Clint. Is the man getting married today, Justine’s old boyfriend?”

“Maybe it’s two women getting married, or two men,” Aya said to her sister. “You don’t know.”

“It’s a man and a woman,” Bennett said, loving how progressive his kids were. “And yes, it is the same man. And yes, he did hurt Justine’s heart.”

Shit. No wonder she was in such a weird mood when he came home last night. Why didn’t she tell him she ran into Tad? And what did that motherfucker say to her? He needed to check to see if she was okay.

“So he didn’t hit her? Does that mean I can’t punch him?” Aya asked.

Bennett sipped his coffee again. No amount of caffeine would ever help him wrangle Aya’s brain or intensity. “No. He didn’t hit her. He hurt her with his words and actions. And absolutely not. You cannot punch him. We don’t hit.”

Aya rolled her eyes. “Unless they hit first though, right? Self-defense.”

He opened the freezer on the fridge and pulled out a box of frozen waffles, tossing them onto the counter. “Make yourself some breakfast, child.”

Aya shrugged and hopped to it, plunking two frozen discs into the toaster.

“Are you guys okay here for a minute? You’re not going to burn down the house if I run and check on Justine?” He was addressing Emme, but then realized he was putting a lot of responsibility on her again, and hesitated to leave. He could wait until Aya’s waffles were toasted and both girls were sitting eating their breakfast at the table.

He drank more coffee, and once the toaster popped up, he got the all clear from the girls and booked it out the front door.

He rapped on the trailer door.

No answer.

He rapped again, this time louder.

Still no answer.

“Justine!”

Clint meandered out his front door. “They headed to the sunrise yoga class this morning. Then they’re off to the spa for the day. I thought Justine told you.” He leaned against the post that held up the overhang for his front porch. “Everything okay?”

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