Page 43 of Smitten with the Single Dad

“And blind carbon copy email your lawyer on all emails so she has the paper trail too.”

They stood up and Myla saw them to the door. “I’m really sorry foreverything you’re going through, Vica.” She gave Vica a hug, then Wyatt carefully escorted Vica back out to his truck. He couldn’t put his finger on the feeling he had, but something told him they were being watched. By whom? He wasn’t sure. Maybe it was just a squirrel. Or maybe it was someone far more nefarious and out to get Vica. Either way, he’d be locking his doors tonight and setting the alarm—something he hadn’t done since he moved to the island.

Vica had a target on her back because she refused to cower to entitled men, and Wyatt would do whatever he had to in order to keep her safe. He hardly knew the woman, but after hearing her story and how she didn’t think anybody would miss her if she died, he was more determined than ever to prove her wrong. A lot of people would miss her. And he was one of them.

They were coming up on a week since the incident with Track Croft and Vica. Nothing else nefarious had happened since Vica was nearly run over, but she also hadn’t left the property since then.

Wyatt could tell she was going stir-crazy though.

Who wouldn’t?

She was holed up in the house and on the property with his two little boys, who—even though they were wonderful—were also exhausting. She was doing her best to put a positive spin on everything, and never had a negative word to say when he came home after work, but he could tell her sanity was wearing thin. And he certainly never expected her to play babysitter. He and his brothers had a system that worked well, and never did they assume, or expect, a guest to babysit. But Vica refused to take no for an answer, and insisted that she enjoyed hanging out with the kids.

It was Friday morning and Wyatt was getting all the boys’ beach attire organized. Jagger, Clint, and Brooke were taking the children to Humpback Beach for the day. Bennett and Justine had to work, as did Dom and Wyatt. He couldn’t tell if Vica was disappointed that she wasn’t joining everyone at the beach, or just sad that the kids wouldn’t be around to distract her. She did seem genuine when she said the boys were great distractions from her otherwise tumultuous life.

His phone buzzed as he packed the boys’ lunches. It was a text message from one of his line cooks, Rico.Fuck, man, I’m sorry. I broke my leg this morning. Justine is patching me up right now. Fell off my bike.

Oh, fuck.

As bad as Wyatt felt for Rico, his head immediately went to the fact that it was a Friday and they were going to be short staffed in the kitchen. Another line cook was already on vacation for a four-day weekend since his long-distance girlfriend was in town. This meant Wyatt would be down two cooks and they were heading into the weekend.

He shot off a quick text to Rico expressing his sympathies and wished his employee, and friend, a speedy recovery. Then he went to work, sending out pleas to the rest of his staff to see if anybody could cover.

By the time Vica and the boys came down into the kitchen, Wyatt had received a whopping four “no” responses, and two employees hadn’t gotten back to him. Fair enough. It was their days off, or they were scheduled for the evening shift. It was their summer too. And his staff was pretty fantastic about covering shifts and stepping up to the plate at the eleventh hour.

That didn’t stop his mood from shifting though, and when Vica greeted him in the kitchen all he could muster was a grunt.

“Can I have pancakes?” Griffon asked, full of energy and wearing nothing but Spiderman boxer shorts.

“No,” Wyatt snapped. “And why aren’t you dressed?” He glanced at Jake. “The same goes for you. Why aren’t either of you dressed? You’re going to thebeach with your uncles and cousins. I expect more from you guys. Come on.”

The boys’ faces fell, and they slid off the kitchen chairs and trudged upstairs, their shoulders rounded.

“Can I help with something?” Vica asked.

“No.” He instantly regretted his tone and grimaced when he saw her reaction.

She glared at him. “Why are you eating people’s hair this morning? What happened?”

Well, that kicked him out of his foul mood for a hot minute. “Eating people’s hair?”

“Eating people’s heads?” Her shoulders lifted. “I don’t know the English idiom. You are being abrupt and angry.”

“Ohhhhhh.” He nodded. “Biting people’s heads off.”

“Sure. Why are you biting people’s heads off?” She cocked a hip into the counter and crossed her arms, pushing up her breasts in the simple gray T-shirt she’d paired with cute denim cutoffs. Justine and Brooke did well picking out clothes for her.

He exhaled and raked his fingers through his hair, shaking his head. “I’m just stressed. I’m short-staffed today in the kitchen. One line cook is on vacation, and another just texted to say Justine was patching him up after he fell off his bike and broke his leg.” He picked up his phone. “And nobody else can cover. I shouldn’t be taking it out on the kids, or you. I’m sorry.”

“How about me?”

“What do you mean?”

“I can cook. I’m actually a very good cook. I worked at a restaurant back home in Italy as a teenager and my father, brother, and I cooked dinner together almost every night. It was a way we came together and bonded.”

He was skeptical.

But he was also desperate.

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