Page 76 of Challenged by the Single Dad

That he was her boss and nothing with them was possible—or a good idea.

And his brothers said the same thing.

And deep down, he knew they were all right.

He needed to honor that. Even though his heart, and dick, argued with him until he was damn near deaf.

So all he did was nod. “Sure. We’re good.” A big, spikey ball hung at the back of his throat, making it difficult to swallow. “Sorry for—”

“It’s all good.” She faced the road again and put the car back into drive. “No need to rehash. Let’s get you back before the dinner rush, hmm?”

With a nod and a grunt, he shifted in his seat to face the road again and the silence that followed bothered him.

He sat there with his chest caving in, the ache growing more intense. He couldn’tjustbe friends with Chloe. Because eventually, she’d find somebody else, and seeing them together would destroy him. But he also knew why she refused to be anything more. He was her boss and that made the power dynamic really blurry.

Maybe he could ask Hawke to hire her full-time. Then he could fire Chloe and they could be together?

A thousand ideas, and every one of them bad, zipped through his brain until they reached the property again and she pulled up in front of her cabin. “Thanks for coming with me to see Hawke. I appreciate it.”

He nodded. “No problem.”

They sat there in the car, neither of them speaking.

Then he did something stupid and he reached for her hand, sliding his fingers in between hers.

Their gazes locked and her smile was sad. Then she gave his fingers a squeeze and let go. “Better get back to work. Otherwise, the boss will yell at you.” She opened up her door and stepped out. And she didn’t wait around for him to get out either. She practically ran to the front door of the cabin and let herself in.

Like a fool, he sat there in her car for several long, agonizing heartbeats.

He wanted Chloe Voss more than anything, and yet, the only solution he could see to getting her, was to fire her. Which could ultimately cause him to lose her anyway.

There was no good answer here. So rather than stay in her passenger seat like a weirdo, he got out and headed up to the house. Silas would be home from school now. And seeing his kid always cheered up Dom. At least the smile he wore on his face would be real for a little while today—that is, until he saw Chloe again when she started her shift.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

SilaswasatWyatt’shouse when Dom got up the hill, his anger hanging over his head like a heavy, dark cloud. He didn’t bother knocking and just entered the house, his heart instantly lifted by the sound of his son’s laugh.

It was still that full belly-laugh that toddlers did, and it always pulled Dom from whatever funk he was in.

The kids were in the kitchen with Vica making handmade pasta.

This was not the first time Dom had found them here, all of them wearing flour and smiles on their faces.

“What are we making today?” he asked, coming to the counter to stand across from Silas—wearing a blue and brown checkered kid’s apron—who was busy taking thin strips of raw pasta dough and rolling them spiral-like on a thin metal rod.

“I’m making b … boosi …” He wrinkled his little nose in confusion, then glanced at Vica. “What’s it called again?”

“Busiate,” she said with her beautiful, thick Italian accent.

Silas nodded solemnly, then tried saying it again. “Bu-si-a-te.”

“Bravissimo, Silas,” she said, planting a kiss to the top of his head, which just made Dom’s little boy beam even brighter.

“I’m making …trofie,” Griffon said, carefully sliding his hand along the counter to create different shaped spirals with the raw dough beneath his palm. They were all coming out different shapes and sizes, but that was how you learned.

“And I’m makingcavatelli,”Jake added. His brows were pinched together tight as he focused on his task of using his thumb to roll little rounds of dough until they folded up on each side to create what reminded Dom of a cannelloni for a doll, or a pasta dough taco.

“It was a good thing I packed my rain pants today,” Silas said. “They made us go out for both big and little recess, and it rained hard both times. I stayed mostly dry.” He concentrated hard on what he was doing for a moment. “Forecast says eighty percent of the area should expect rain and wind tomorrow too. With a temperature high of forty-eight, but feels like thirty-six with the windchill. So Uncle Wyatt hung my wet rain pants up over the heater so they’re dry for tomorrow.”

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