Page 38 of Challenged by the Single Dad

Dom’s heart rate kicked up a notch. “And do we know who the other four are?”

Bennett shook his head. “No. I also can’t tell if this email is a brag or just a heads-up.”

Dom pulled up his phone and reviewed the screenshotted email from Gabrielle. His brows furrowed. “Until all that shit with Vica that she helped us with, I would have said this was a brag, but now I think it’s a heads-up.”

Their phones vibrated.

“Clint says he’ll run to the mailbox. Of course, the Island Elders would send the notification via snail mail and not email since they made us submit our proposals in hard copy,” Bennett said. He raked his fingers through his short, dark hair. “Fuck, if they’re shortlisted and we’re not, I’ll lose my shit. Justine and I worked so damn hard on that proposal.”

“Well, it says that the five shortlisted groups will be asked to come in front of the Elders and further argue their case, which won’t happen for weeks. Possibly not until next year. We have time.” Dom glanced at his watch. “I need to get going, though.”

“Yes. Yes, of course. Go do what you need to do.” Bennett waved him off. “Say hi to Remy for me.”

Dom’s smile was fake and grim. “I will.” Then he was gone out the door, heading on foot toward the restaurant.

It wasn’t busy in the restaurant, and Renée and Jagger had everything under control. So he didn’t stick around. Burke already had his pizza ready and boxed up. So after a quick thank you, he was back out the door and making his way to the beach.

Thankfully, it was a mild night and the wind wasn’t too bad. The tide was on its way out, which meant he didn’t have to worry about his altar getting swept out to become kraken food.

He always went to roughly the same spot. It was a sandy portion about a quarter of a mile away from their property. Several big driftwood logs rested on the rocks and made a perfect sitting area. Once he reached the spot, he set down his duffel bag and went to work creating his altar. The wind made the candle flames dance, but it didn’t blow them out. He spread the marigolds around, as well as the petals, and propped up the photo frames. Then he laid out a Mexican blanket and sat down with the pizza box, two wine glasses, and a bottle of wine from the Westhaven Winery on the island. They might have a mild Cold War going on at the moment with the women of the winery, but there was no denying, they knew their grapes.

Even though he was partial to red wine if he drank it, Remy preferred dry whites. So that’s what he had.

With a deep sigh, he stared at her photo behind the flames, watching the shadows dance across her beautiful features.

“We’ve got a pretty fantastic kid,” he started. “Kind, and gentle, and sweet. And so goofy. He still loves Spiderman. He’s lactose intolerant now. So we take dairy pills, and have switched to oat milk and soy cheese at home.” He reached for a slice of pizza. “He says that he misses you and loves you.” His throat grew tight. “But that he’s having a hard time remembering you.”

Tears stung the back of his eyes as the slice of pizza hung there in midair, and his breath rattled out between thinly parted lips.

“I’ll do better, Remy. I’m sorry I haven’t done more to keep your memory alive. I’ve just …” He growled. “There’s no excuse. I’ll just do better.”

He set the pizza back down without taking a bite and took a sip of his wine instead, just staring out into the darkness at the water. A few faraway lights blinked and flickered in the distance. Mostly floating buoys or boats. The gentle lap of the water and waves pulled him into an almost hypnotic state as he just sat there in his grief and guilt.

No, Remy’s death hadn’t been his fault. But he knew that he could be there for their son more than he was. He was both Mom and Dad now, and at the moment, he was barely there enough for one parent, let alone two.

He just couldn’t let the reason their business failed be because he’d gone and hired shit staff and they drove away customers. He couldn’t risk hiring someone like Nadine again, and letting them destroy what he and his brothers had worked so hard to build.

He wasn’t sure how much time had passed when he finally blinked and emerged from his hypnosis. The shore was a lot further out though, and the candle wax was running low. The pizza was also cold.

He ate one slice and finished his wine, and was considering packing up when the flicker of light to his right a bit down the beach pulled his attention.

Someone else was on the beach lighting candles.

Should he go see? Or leave them be?

He would want someone to leave him alone if they stumbled across him at Remy’s altar visiting her, but he’d also always been an overly curious person.

Was it another person celebrating a lost loved one on Día de los Muertos? He packed up the altar and blew out all but one of the candles. Then he put the box of pizza and wine bottle into the duffel bag with everything else. After he shook out the Mexican blanket, he rolled that up too, then carefully made his way down the beach, using a candle to guide him.

This person was further up on the beach, away from the water, and when a cool gust of air drifted past him, it brought the faint scent of incense with it. He couldn’t quite place it though. But it was sweet with a hint of cinnamon.

The closer he got, the more came into view from the helpful light of the nearly-full moon. Whoever it was had several candles spread around on the rocks in a circle, as well as what appeared to be offerings in the center in front of a grouping of photographs.

Was that a soccer ball?

“I think you’d really like it here,” came a familiar voice on the breeze. She wasn’t speaking loudly, and there was sadness in her tone. “The beaches are beautiful. When the tide is out, the sand goes on forever. And the smell of the seaweed baking on the rocks in the sun is …” she laughed, “you’d probably say it stinks, but I think it’s wonderful.”

Chloe?

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