Page 36 of Smitten with the Single Dad

“I’m just glad you’re okay … well, you know what I mean.”

“How is Nibbles?” Vica adored Mrs. Jovan’s dog. Nibbles wasn’t cute, per se. He was a mix of at least six breeds and rescued from the streets of Mexico. But he was as sweet as could be and seemed to have a sixth sense about who needed dog snuggles.

“He misses you,” Mrs. Jovan said. “We both do.”

“Once I have a better idea of my fate, I will be in touch again. But for now, I am safe. I have people in my corner … which is weird.”

“No, it’s not. You just don’t let people in. People want in, you just have a hard time letting them in.”

Damn, Mrs. Jovan and her astuteness.

Vica sighed.

“You know I’m right.”

“I know you are right, I just do not like hearing it.”

Mr. Jovan’s laugh was rough and gritty. She didn’t smoke, but she used to, and it definitely came through in her gravely tone.

“Please keep in touch, sweetheart. And let me know if you need any help. I don’t have much, but I do have some money in savings.”

“I would never ask that of you. I will be okay. Thank you though.”

“Chin up, sweetheart.”

They said their goodbyes, and Vica hung up the phone before the tears really started to fall and she was sobbing too hard to speak.

Noise in the kitchen pulled her attention and she pivoted her gaze to glance through the sliding glass door that entered into the dining room. Wyatt was in the kitchen in a tight white T-shirt, those sexy glasses again, and gray sweatpants, and he was pouring coffee beans into the grinder.

He had to know she was on the patio. She hadn’t closed the door all the way, just the screen, and she wasn’t exactly whispering with Mrs. Jovan.

Taking a deep breath that rattled more on the way out than it did on the way in, she wiped her eyes and beneath her nose again, finished her espresso and banana, then headed into the house.

He glanced up at her and smiled. “It’s about to get noisy.” Then he started the grinder.

She welcomed the sound as it drowned out her thoughts.

It didn’t last long though, and soon they were plunged into quiet as he went about filling up the coffee maker with delicious, fresh grounds. “I see you have an espresso, but would you like a coffee?”

“I would love one, please.” It was impossible not to admire the way his back muscles bunched and flexed beneath the thin, bright white T-shirt, or those biceps that were well-defined and larger than grapefruits. He’d kept those thingshidden up until now. Why?

Spinning around, he graced her with a smile. “How was your bath?”

Her eyes went wide. “Oh no! Did I wake you?”

He shook his head. “I’m generally an early riser. I try to get in a workout on the rowing machine in the study before the boys wake up. I heard the tub faucet running. Not a big deal.”

“I had a terrible dream that I can not even remember now and could not fall back to sleep. So I thought a bath might help. But that just woke me up even more.”

“I’m sorry you had a bad dream. Was it about—”

She nodded. “At least I think it was.”

Silence fell between them for a moment, but she couldn’t peel her eyes from his face. He had such a nice face. With scruff, those beautiful eyes, a lovely smile, and a nice nose. The longer she stared at him, the more she realized that Wyatt McEvoy was quite possibly the handsomest man she’d ever met. And she was Italian. Italian men were notoriously gorgeous. But Wyatt was beautiful in an entirely different way.

“Mi dispiace per quello che state passando. Sei la benvenuta se vuoi rimanere qui per tutto il tempo che ti serve,”he said, one side of his mouth lifting up, taking him from handsome to downright gorgeous.

I'm sorry for what you're going through. You're welcome to stay here as long as you need.

---