Page 97 of Challenged by the Single Dad

Dom blinked and studied his brother, not quite following.

“Untildeathdo you part. And Dom, Remy is dead. It shreds my heart just to say the words out loud, but it’s the truth. And you need to stop beating yourself up.” He took a sip of his beer. “Having feelings for another woman who isnotyour late wife, is absolutely okay. Being with another woman, enjoying time, and sex with another woman is okay. It’s a good thing. It means that you didn’t die with her. You’re continuing to live. For you. For your son.”

Dom huffed a humorless laugh, finished the beer, stood up, and went to his brother’s fridge to grab another one. He popped the cap and rejoined Wyatt in the living room, but he didn’t sit down. “The feelings I have for her are fucking with my head. They’re … they’re strong. And they’re confusing the fuck out of me. I feel like this bumbling, horny teenager around her. I can’t even control my dick. Everything she does makes it fucking hard.” His eyes bugged out at his brother. “Whenever I see her, it’s like I’m fourteen again and close to blowing my load in my fucking jeans. I’m thirty-eight fucking years old. I should be able to control myself.”

Wyatt nodded.

“I don’t think I can do this.” He started to pace. “Work with her and not have her. It’s going to kill me.”

“Is it unrequited?” Wyatt asked quietly.

Dom took a long sip of his beer the exhaled loudly. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. But she’s so hard to read. Sometimes, I think she wants me too. And when we’retogetherI’m sure of it. Then she goes and tells me we can’t be together because I’m her boss, and she avoids me like I have leprosy, and she turns me into a third-wheel behindmybar.”

That made Wyatt snort a laugh. “She is a better bar manager than you are.”

Dom flipped his brother the bird, but didn’t argue with the truth. “How do I deal with this? How do I deal with working with someone I want—but feel guilty about wanting—and who also won’t be with me because I’m her boss and it’s a conflict of interest? Do I just quit? Switch jobs with Jagger? I take over PR and social media and he works behind the bar?”

“God no,” Wyatt said. “Jagger’s good at a lot of things, but holding onto wet, slippery glass is not one of them. It’s half the reason Clint’s terrified to have him in the brewery. He’s a butterfingers.”

Right. Dom forgot about that. How Jagger managed to get a football scholarship always eluded them. Mind you, he played defense. So all he really had to do was tackle, not catch.

“You also hate people. So PR is thelastthing we want you doing.”

Dom nodded. He couldn’t argue with facts.

“What is your brain telling you?” Wyatt asked.

“That she’s right and this won’t end well, so there’s no point in starting it.”

“And your heart?”

“That I’m cheating on Remy. But also, that what I feel for Chloe is real and isn’t going to go away.”

Wyatt nodded. “I don’t need to ask what your dick is telling you. That’s a no-brainer.” He snorted. “Literally.”

Dom smirked. “Not helping.”

“I think the two of you need to have a conversation that doesn’t end with you both naked and riddled with sweat and guilt.”

The door opened to reveal Vica, her dark, shoulder-length bob was damp, but her brown eyes sparkled. “Bonjorno, Dominic.” She hung up her raindrop-covered jacket. “Come va?”

“He’s conflicted,” Wyatt answered for Dom.

“Ahh.” Vica nodded. “About?”

All Wyatt had to do was raise his brows and Vica nodded again.

“Great. So now I’m just a hot gossip topic,” Dom said with a deep sigh.

“Just among the family.” Vica shrugged and brought her fabric shopping bag into the kitchen. “And for what it is worth, I think you and Chloe would be great together. We all really love her. She has fire in her belly and passion in her heart.” She tapped her chest. “And she makes an angry Caesar.”

“I think you mean ameanCaesar,” Wyatt corrected.

She shrugged. “Potato,gnocchi. It’s all the same.”

Dom snagged his brother’s gaze, but Wyatt was all cocky smiles.

“You staying for dinner?” Vica asked, though with her thick accent it didn’t really come out as a question. More like an order. “We are havinglasagne alla Portofino.”

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