Page 113 of Challenged by the Single Dad

“Well, I’m glad. It’s about time. Chloe’s great and we all really like her.”

“Yeah … me too.”

She tossed him a cheeky wink, then spun around again and disappeared through the rear kitchen door.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Dom stalked up the hill and through the security gate, the heavy fog and cool December wind coming off the water reminding him that he needed to dress warmer. A Henley was not enough anymore. Not until at least April anyway. Silas said it was calling for mostly just drizzle all day with minimal wind. Though the highest temperature it was supposed to reach all day was a balmy thirty-eight. Chuckling at his future weatherman son, he reached the house, and the moment he opened the door he was greeted with the undeniable sound of someone vomiting.

Uh-oh.

It was upstairs in the en suite, but the noise was unmistakable.

Unlike Wyatt, who would immediately vomit the moment someone else vomited, Dom had a stronger constitution than that. He ditched his muddy boots and took the stairs two at a time, finding Chloe kneeling on the bathroom floor, a towel beneath her knees and her hair in a bun on top of her head as she leaned over the toilet bowl.

He went to her and slid to the floor on his knees beside her, rubbing her back. “What can I do?”

“Nothing,” she said, her tone more of a whine than anything else. “This is just … part of the process I guess.”

“Were you sick with you other … um … did you experience morning sickness before?”

She shook her head and reached up to pull the toggle to flush the toilet. “No. At least never like this.”

He grabbed a hand towel and handed it to her so she could wipe her face. “Let me help you. Do you want ginger ale?”

She shook her head. “No.”

His gaze settled on the big, free-standing soaker tub next to the enormous window with a perfect view of the sound. “How about a warm bath?”

Her head tilted to the side in thought, then she nodded.

He rose to his feet and put in the plug, then turned on the faucet. He and his brothers all had identical houses. They were all two-stories with three-bedrooms and two and half bathrooms. The kitchen, dining room, living room, half-bathroom, and a study or office were on the main floor, while three bedrooms and two bathrooms were on the top floor. And the way they laid out the lots ensured that each of them had an unencumbered view of the sound over the treetops from the primary bedroom and en suite.

While the tub filled up, he retreated downstairs and brewed her a cup of peppermint tea. He didn’t know much about morning sickness since Remy didn’t really experience any, but he knew that peppermint tamed belly problems. So that was the least he could do.

When he returned, she was naked and climbing into the tub, having used some of his body wash to create bubbles.

Her deep sigh as she slid beneath the bubbles eased the sudden tension around his heart. He wanted this pregnancy to be easy for her. She deserved that. She deserved anything and everything she ever wanted after all the pain and loss she experienced.

He set the tea on the windowsill and shut off the tap. “How are you feeling?”

Her smile was small, and her eyes were tired. “Better. Thank you. This helps.”

Sitting on the edge of the tub, he met her gaze. “So, uh … I told my brothers. About us. About the baby.”

All she did was lift her brows. “And?”

“And they fired me.”

“Wait, what? They can’t do that.” She sat up, eyes flaring open wide. Then she tilted her head to the side in a ridiculously cute way. “Can they?”

“Everything is voted on. And they held a vote without me. But had I been there, it wouldn’t have mattered. It would have been four against one.”

With brows scrunched, she leaned back against the wall of the tub again, studying him. “You seem awfully okay with this. Is there a catch?”

Reaching forward, he tucked a wayward strand of her dark-red hair behind her ear. “I mean, I still own one-fifth of the business. They can’t vote me out as a shareholder. But as far as managing the bar is concerned, they, uh … they had somebody else, somebodybetter, in mind.” He inclined his head toward her. “So now, you’ll bemyboss.”

Her rapid blinks were adorable as she struggled to process everything. “Me?”

“You’re a better bartender than I am. Everyone loves you. The staff, the customers. I’m a grump who has to force himself to be nice to people to get their money. It’s exhausting.”

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