Page 94 of Summer with the Single Dad

Then Aya had to go and make things a million times more awkward by trying to play matchmaker. Ugh! He loved that child more than life itself, but sometimes she could be really fucking annoying.

The girls were finally in bed; the house was quiet and yet, his brain gave him no rest before it began running through Justine’s info dump yet again.

Tad was her ex-fiancé. He cheated on her with Ashli, a scrub nurse. Neither showed any remorse. Ashli was now pregnant with their lovechild and they were planning a wedding. Tad also claimed that he didn’t want children, but then secretly did, and now he was having one. Meanwhile, Justine was barren and wanted nothing more than to be a mother. Justine then reacted to Ashli, and the news of Tad’s cheating and the pregnancy like any sane person would. However, she had an unconscious man with an open chest cavity on her table and a scalpel in her hand. The patient died.

What a motherfucking clusterfuck.

Bennett and his brothers had the potential to make a shit ton of money from this last-minute event for these douchebags, but he was struck with the moral dilemma of loyalty to Justine, or loyalty to the business and his brothers.

The last thing he wanted was for Justine to feel like he was picking Satan and his bride over her.

Because he absolutely wasn’t.

He was picking money.

That made him sound like a miser. Like a greedy bastard who only cared about the ‘dollar, dollar bills, y’all.” But he wasn’t. Money was essential for survival. He had children to raise, a business—many businesses—to run. He needed money to secure his children’s future. To secure his family’s future.

This wasn’t just about him.

This wasn’t just about Justine.

It was about five men and their dream to create a legacy for their six children.

He hoped she would come back into the house so they could talk, but as he puttered in the kitchen drying dishes and making busywork, he quickly realized she wasn’t going to.

So he needed to go to her.

The girls would be fine upstairs if he jetted across the gravel driveway to the travel trailer.

He double-checked on them first; they were both out cold. Emme was curled up in a tight ball, hugging her favorite panda stuffy, while Aya was sprawled out like a contortionist starfish with no covers, her mouth open and three stuffed animals on the floor. He could pull her covers back over her, but she’d just kick them off again. The kid ran hot and often tore off all her clothes at some point during the night.

Then he popped into his room where Justine had stripped the bed and made a neat pile of the sheets and towels on the bathroom tile. The room smelled like her though. He inhaled deeply and closed his eyes. Disappointment lapped at the edges of his awareness. She was just across the driveway, and yet, at the same time, she felt a million miles away. He used the washroom, washed his hands, fixed his hair in the mirror and gripped the countertop, staring at himself.

She was not a stupid woman.

In fact, she was probably one of the smartest fucking people he’d ever met.

She would be able to see reason and the practicality behind holding this stupid wedding for these terrible people. She would.

She had to.

With another deep inhale, he nodded at his reflection, then booked it downstairs and out the door, crossing the gravel driveway he shared with his brothers in only ten strides. He pounded on the trailer door before he allowed doubt to claim its throne in his subconscious.

She opened the door a moment later, unsurprised to see him. Her cheeks pinked up though.

“Can we talk?” he asked.

She nodded and stepped inside, holding open the door for him.

He ducked his head and entered. He hadn’t actually seen inside the trailer until now.

It was nice.

Swanky.

The definition of glamping.

Her tote bins were strewn about in the sitting area and kitchen, but she moved them to the bedroom so they could sit down.

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