Page 93 of Challenged by the Single Dad

“No.”

She frowned. “Maybe they forgot to bring it in last night. It was crazy-busy right until last call, I heard. So I wouldn’t be surprised if they forgot a few things.”

That made him growl as he stalked out from behind the bar and shoved the heel of his palm into the door. Sure enough, the specials board was outside, covered in dew, and with the chalk marker running down the blackboard like mascara after a sob-session.

He brought it back into the pub and grabbed some paper towels. The servers were already busy. So he’d have to be the one to write the daily specials, even though everyone gave him shit for his terrible penmanship.

“Specials?” he barked through the food window at his brother. “Would be nice if we knew them before we opened.”

“Seriously,” Wyatt said, shaking his head, “what crawled up you as—”

“Just tell me what they are.”

Rolling his eyes, Wyatt ran through the specials and Dom wrote them down, careful to make his printing nicer than normal so nobody gave him flack. He was in no mood for flack.

Why was he in such a bad mood? He honestly couldn’t say.

It was probably residual irritation from the shit that happened to Silas yesterday, but also that he had barely seen Chloe. She was always at the hostel, or they were ships passing in the night, only together for about ten minutes as he finished his day shift and she started her evening shift. And when they did see each other, it was strained and awkward. All he wanted to do was push her back into the cash room and stay there, in their sexy cocoon, without the burdens of the rest of the world.

Was she deliberately making it awkward? As a way to keep some distance between them?

Was this her way of getting him to no longer want her? Or was she truly done with him?

Not to mention the fact that he felt guilty for having feelings about another woman—who was not his late wife—and he woke up on the wrong side of the bed with the most painful erection he could ever remember having.

Yeah, today was going to be just fucking great.

“Dom, dear,” came a shaky voice.

He had his head down, scrutinizing his printing on the chalkboard. But he made sure to soften his expression and plaster on a smile before he lifted his head to regard Gertie Redman, one of the oldest living—and shortest—residents on the island. The woman could not be over five feet tall, but was probably closer to four-ten. She was among the first to turn the island into the haven it was today. “Gertie, you’re looking not a day over seventy today. How can I help you?”

The ninety-four-year-old woman went pink in her wrinkly cheeks and swatted a hand as she chuckled. “Oh you. I came by to see how you’re doing. More so, how Silas is doing. News travels fast on the island as you know, and I heard about what happened to him on the playground.” She shook her head and clicked her tongue. “Mind you, Wynona is telling a very different tale at the salon to anyone who will listen. But I made sure to put her in her place when I got my hair done yesterday.” At that, she touched her silver-hued locks that were perfectly curled and styled into a chignon, or twist, or whatever at the back of her head. “Nobody believes for a second that Silas, or any of the McEvoy children for that matter, did anything wrong. The whole island knows them to be good, kind kids. And Carnation is, well …” Her brown eyes turned sad. “She’s struggling with a lot right now and handling it poorly.”

This was the first he heard about Carnation “struggling.” What did that mean?

His eyes must have conveyed his ignorance.

“Her father—Wynona’s partner, Reggie—had a secret family on the mainland. And Wynona just found out. Two kids—younger than Carnation—and a pretty wife. And hemarriedthis one. He never married Wynona. Said why did they need to stand before God to make their love for each other official?”

Dom’s mouth dropped open in shock.

“Now, I’m not Jolene and trying to spread rumors or anything,” Gertie quickly added, “but, maybe there are reasons behind why Carnation is acting the way she is. Doesn’t excuse what she did of course, and the child needs discipline and repercussions for her actions, but—”

“Knowing the root of the cause is always helpful.” Dom nodded. “Definitely explains some things. And eases our minds that she’s not some psychopath who just likes to hurt people for fun.”

That made Gertie chuckle. “Indeed.”

“Poor Wynona—and Carnation.”

“The land they’re living on is also Reggie’s family land. His parents inherited it, and aren’t ready to leave the mainland as they both still work. They said Reggie, Wynona, and Carnation could live on it. So now Wynona is worried about what is going to happen since she has no claim to the land. She and Carnation are probably going to have to move.”

Until now, he hadn’t noticed her small teapot on the counter, which he took to mean she needed more hot water. To give himself a moment to process things, he grabbed the mug and went to the hot water dispenser to fill it up.

“Thanks, honey,” she said, when he placed it back on the bar. “I don’t expect you or Silas to forgive Carnation, or Wynona, for what Carnation did, but I also thought your deserved to know.” Then she shrugged. “I mean, Jolene has already told anybody that will listen. I was honestly surprised you hadn’t heard by now.” She tossed a frustrated glare over her shoulder at the booth of her sewing circle and Jolene caught her harsh look.

“What?” Jolene called out. “What’d I do?”

Gertie shook her head and rolled her eyes, returning to face Dom. “Anyway. Give little Silas my love. You’re raising a good one, Dom. Keep it up.” She reached forward and rested her weathered, boney hand on his arm and gave it a kind squeeze, before carefully picking up her teapot and slowly toddling back over to her booth.

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