Page 83 of Smitten with the Single Dad

Wyatt huffed through his nose as he sipped his coffee. Damn, she could make good coffee. What was it about Italians and knowing how to make the perfect cup of coffee? She used the same beans as he did. Probably the same amount too. And yet, hers was better. Way, way better.

“I need to be useful, Wyatt,” she said, reading the displeasure on his face. He’d never been very good at masking his emotions. “And with you recovering, it just made sense. Burke has been very patient with me. I’m making friends too. The kitchen staff are so nice. As are the front of house.”

“We’ll pay you, of course,” he said, unable to think of anything else to say even though he still wasn’t sure he liked this idea. He’d have to discuss things with his brothers. Even though it’d only been a few days with him laid up in his bed, he felt so out of the loop. Like an interloper in his own house and family. Vica had slid right into the McEvoy crew almost seamlessly, almost as if she had no intention of leaving when this nightmare was all over.

“You need to try this bread, Dad,” Griffon said, already on his fourth slice. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever had in my life.” He got all serious and went wide-eyed and unblinking at Wyatt. “In. My. Life.”

Unable to resist such a glowing review, Wyatt reached into the basket on the table and grabbed a slice of the Italian baguette. He smelled it first. It smelled incredible. Then he checked the crust. It had a nice, hard crust. Finally, he pressed his finger into the center to see if it would spring back nicely. It did. It had a beautiful crumb to it as well. Lastly, he took a bite and sure enough, it wasfucking fantastic.

“I am a bread snob,” Vica said, forcing Wyatt to open eyes he didn’t even know he’d closed. “I would never serve you anything but perfection. And in my opinion, Italian bread is the very best in the world.”

“I agree,” Griffon said, about to reach for a fifth slice.

“Eat some fruit,” Wyatt said quickly, gently swatting his son’s hand away. “Don’t fill up on bread.”

“But it’s sooo good,” he protested.

“I agree, but you need berries for the vitamin C and the roughage. Otherwise, you’ll get scurvy and never shit again.”

“Is that true?” Griffon asked.

Wyatt placed his hand over his chest. “Hand to God.”

Vica snorted as they all watched Griffon scoop yogurt and berries into a bowl.

Vica’s phone buzzed on the table and she checked the message. “That was your Uncle Clint. He said you leave in thirty minutes.” She stood up from the table. “I better get started on those sandwiches then.”

“Turkey for me, please,” Jake said.

“PB and J for me,” Griffon called out with a mouthful of yogurt.

“I can do it,” Wyatt said, slowly getting up from his seat.

She dismissed him with a handwave and a headshake. “No, no. I’ve got it. You eat and rest.” Her smile was sweet, and she went to work in his kitchen preparing the kids their lunch. She already knew where everything was too. She was right at home, and it gave Wyatt an odd sensation in his belly.

Yes, he’d opened up his home to her, and yes, he married her—but all of that was meant to be temporary. The kids knew that. He knew that. They were under no illusion that Vica would stay and make a life here. If that was the case, or the plan all along, he would have handled things very differently.

But you like having her here. You like the idea of her being a permanent fixture in yours and the boys’ lives.

He did. But he was also scared.

What would happen if it didn’t work out? If they played house even after everything in her life got sorted, and for whatever reason, she decided island life wasn’t for her and she left? She was planning to head to New York. She had a career. A life. Surely, she didn’t want to settle down on the island and become a stepmother to two wild little boys.

Sure, it was fun now. But it was fun because it was temporary.

In no time, she had the boys’ lunches packed up and ready. Then she shooed them upstairs to gather their bathing suits and towels. She was in full-on mom-mode and Wyatt felt bad that his injury had landed her there. That was never part of their agreement.

Just as Jake was applying his sunscreen, Clint walked into the house, his eyes going wide as he took in Wyatt sitting on the couch drinking another cup of coffee. “He’s downstairs. I take it that means you’re feeling better?”

“Still sore, but I was going crazy just lying there on the bed. I need to move. I’ll take it easy, but I can’t do the idle thing any longer.”

“Vica, have you seen my hat?” Griffon yelled at the top of his lungs from the patio off the dining room. “I thought it was out here.”

“I already put it in the beach bag,lupetto.”

Griffon came back into the house then howled like a wolf. He grinned at Wyatt. “Vica says I’m wild like a wolf. So she calls me ‘little wolf’in Italian.”

“I see that,” Wyatt said. “Don’t forget to put sunscreen on, buddy.”

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