Page 107 of Challenged by the Single Dad

“Then?”

“I don’t know. But we’ll figure something out.”

It was her turn to laugh humorlessly. “That’s not giving me much confidence.”

“I’m doing the best I can with twelve minutes to process the news I’m going to be a father again.”

Yeah, okay. Fair enough.

His gaze softened. “You need to at least give us the chance, the opportunity to figure it out.”

The smile he offered her was small, crooked, and laden with guilt and uncertainty.

She struggled to even get out her reply without taking a hot second to let it all sink in. She wasn’t sure at all how he was going to react to the news, but never in her wildest dreams did she expect, or even think, he’d go all in like this so quickly, not to mention, insist she move in with him.

“Come on,” he said, standing up and searching the floor for his pants and shirt. “Let’s get you packed up.”

Well that snapped her out of her swirling vortex of uncertainty and made words come to mind. “What? It’s like eleven o’clock at night. And it’s pouring rain.”

His shrug was non-committal. “So? My place is so much better.”

“Yeah, but—”

He wasn’t taking no for an answer. Tugging his jeans and shirt back on, his hair disheveled and flopping sexily over his face, he met her gaze. “We’ll load up your car and head to the house. You’ll be settled in in no time.”

Did she really want to do this? Move in with Dom? Move in with her boss? Move in with the father of her baby?

“Once we’re unpacked, I’ll do that thing with my tongue you seemed to like,” he said, pulling on his damp socks, then sliding into his shoes. His eyes twinkled as he reached for her suitcase in the corner and flopped it open onto her bed.

She released a long, slow sigh. “Well, when you put it that way …”

Sunday was Chloe’s only full day off.

Even though she told Hawke that she didn’t mind working a longer shift at the hostel since she didn’t work at the pub, he refused. He said everybody needed at least one day off to recharge their battery.

And Sunday was Chloe’s.

Now, she was grateful the big mountain of muscle held his ground because after the emotional roller coaster and sex marathon of last night, she was absolutely exhausted.

Unsure what time it was, and not really caring, she rolled over in Dom’s enormous king-sized bed and hugged the pillow, pressing her nose into it. It smelled like him. Manly and fresh with a hint of sandalwood.

She smiled and burrowed in deeper.

She was almost back to dreamland when the front door downstairs opened and slammed shut, rattling the whole house, followed by the loud call of a six-year-old in search of his father.

“Dad!” Silas hollered. “Where are you?”

Chloe’s eyes flew wide at the same time the bathroom door opened and a wet, ripped, and mouth-wateringly delicious Dom emerged with a towel wrapped dangerously low on his hips. The tree tattoo on his right side, crawled up from his hipbone and over his ribs to just under his armpit. She’d licked every square inch of that ink last night, but already had a taste for more.

His gaze met hers, and he smirked, before yanking the towel from his hips and using it to dry his hair, his cock thickening before her very eyes. She licked her lips, zeroing in on the way the head darkened to a tantalizing plum-shade. “Was there a noise downstairs?”

Oh shit!

Thunder echoed up the stairs and down the hall, but they didn’t have time to hide or for him to duck into the bathroom before Silas appeared in the doorway. His blue-hazel eyes, the same shade as Dom’s went the size of dinner plates.

“Shit,” Dom exclaimed, whipping the towel from his head to cover his erection. “Dude, you’re home.”

Should Chloe hide her face? Duck under the covers or cover her head with a pillow? She didn’t know how to handle this situation. Either way, this was not how they intended to tell Silas about them, or the baby, or any of it.

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