CHAPTER SIXTEEN

“Y ou’re never going to guess what Chloe did today,” Wyatt said, coming out to the bar where Dom was busy slicing garnishes before the restaurant opened.

“Maybe it’s best that I don’t know,” Dom murmured. Now that he and Chloe had established that they were just friends, and they only saw each other in passing, he figured things would be easier.

That his feelings would disappear.

They were not easier, and they had not disappeared.

If anything, now that he barely saw her, he thought about her and wanted her even more. He couldn’t get her out of his head, and all he wanted to do when he saw her—even for a few minutes—was grab her and kiss her.

Wyatt made a dismissive noise in his throat. “Naw, you’ll want to hear this.”

Dom glanced at his brother out of the corner of his eye. “Fine. What’d she do?”

“She went to yoga, then Booch and Bagels with the girls, and who should they run into but Wynona—Carnation’s mom.”

Now, he had Dom’s attention.

“Chloe went all mama bear on Wynona. Told her to go home and ‘discipline’ her child for once. She didn’t let Wynona get away with shit. Even when Wynona said that she didn’t have to sit there and take any more from them, Chloe was like, ‘you’re standing and you interrupted us .’” A laugh spilled from his chest. “She is badass . Just as hot-tempered as you are, apparently. Even though she doesn’t have kids, she’s got that mama bear mode down to a science.”

“How do you know she doesn’t have a child?” Shit. This wasn’t his story to tell. And yet, he also didn’t want anybody to make the mistake that he made early on, assuming she wasn’t a mother.

Wyatt cocked his head to the side like a curious retriever. “Because when we asked her the day she interviewed, she said she didn’t. Wait, does she?””

Dom’s shoulders slumped slightly and he set down his paring knife so he didn’t cut himself. “She lost her son in terrible accident four years ago.”

Wyatt’s eyes immediately turned sad and his face fell. “Oh shit.”

Dom pulled in a deep breath though his nose and nodded. “Yeah. That was how I felt when I found out. Especially after I gave her shit for wanting Halloween off because she—”

“Didn’t have kids,” Wyatt said, scratching the back of his neck. “I remember. Fuck, dude, you really stuck your foot in it there.”

“And I apologized. And I still feel like garbage about it.”

“Christ, that’s rough. Do you know how?”

Dom glanced at Wyatt again. “He drowned. Fell through the ice on a pond at a friend’s farm.”

Wyatt’s face paled. “Fucking hell. So she’s a genuine mama bear then. Just with no cub to protect.”

Dom wanted to get off the topic of Chloe, so all he did was nod.

But Wyatt wasn’t picking up on Dom’s guarded cues, and launched into a longer explanation about what Chloe did at Booch and Bagels. And despite the fact that Dom didn’t want to hear about Chloe, because he was doing his best to not think about the woman he’d fallen for and couldn’t have, his heart grew softer and softer the more Wyatt described how she defended Silas.

She’d only met Dom’s son once. And from what Dom could tell, she was awkward and guarded around him. Why’d she feel the need to jump to his defense?

“Vica says they have what they’ve determined is ‘tight pussy energy,’” Wyatt scoffed, shaking his head with a wistful smirk. “And when I said, ‘Why tight and not big ?’ Vica asked me if I wanted her to have a big pu—”

“Got it,” Dom said, thought it came out as more of a growl. “Got it.”

“Jesus, what crawled up your ass, laid eggs, and ate it’s way out?”

Dom dropped his paring knife again and turned to face his brother. “I have a lot to do and we open in ten.” Then he glanced around the bar. “And no servers or bussers yet.”

“Good morning,” Penny sung, sashaying her way through the swinging door, with Jillian right behind her. “The fun has arrived.”

Dom grumbled and was about to tell them they were late, but thought better of it. Wyatt slapped his hand on Dom’s shoulder. “You’d be prettier if you smiled more.” Then he headed back to the kitchen before Dom smacked him.

The ladies of the Sewing Circle were among the first to arrive, bringing with them their knitting baskets this time. They all ordered their tea and asked for the brunch menu, which made Dom realize Wyatt hadn’t even rattled off the specials for the day yet. The board for outside hadn’t been done for the day, and when he went looking for it, he couldn’t find it.

What the fuck was going on?

The place was falling apart.

“Where’s the specials board,” he barked a little too loud, and drawing attention from some of the customers getting situated at their tables.

“Isn’t it between the bar and the wall like it always is?” Jillian asked, coming behind the bar to fill up a big water pitcher with lemons and ice.

“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 he married this 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.

“What was that look for?” Jolene said.

“Never you mind. Hand me my knitting needles.”

Shaking his head and fighting back a smile, Dom picked up the chalk pen again and finished writing the specials.

“Not bad printing there, boss,” Penny said, coming up to the POS machine closest to him. “It’s actually legible today.”

Growling, he regarded her through narrowed eyes. “Just for that, you can go put the board back outside. Smart-ass.”

She snickered, but accepted the board and scurried out the front door, returning a moment later.

The rest of Saturday went by with zero hiccups.

Dom’s mood got better by maybe half of a percent, but that was something.

All he could think about was the fact that Chloe was at Hawke’s.

What was she doing over there right now?

Was Hawke there too? Were they together? Acting all chummy and joking around?

She said he wasn’t her type. But maybe over the last month that changed?

Dom certainly didn’t think she’d be there a month. This was supposed to be temporary, until Hawke found a new front desk person. Was he even looking? Or was he satisfied with Chloe because she was nice to look at and he secretly hoped they could become more?

The whole reason she offered to help him was so he wasn’t working there twenty-four seven. Not so he could … what were Hawke’s hobbies besides being a firefighter and obviously working out?

Either way, Dom didn’t like that she was over there all the time. And often, all alone. What if Joey or that Orrin prick came back looking for revenge because she got them fired and kicked off the island?

So when she came through the door at three forty-five, he had to spontaneously grab two beer bottles to keep himself from taking her and hugging her.

Of course, he wanted to do a hell of a lot more than that.

In the month since they’d been together in the biblical sense, his desire for her hadn’t dwindled in the least. If anything, it’d only grown hotter. More intense. Practically unbearable.

“How was the day?” she asked, her smile friendly, but close-mouthed.

He gave a non-committal shrug. “It was fine.” Then he remembered his conversation with Gertie and he lunged at the opportunity to engage with Chloe further. “Actually, I heard something interesting.”

Her brows lifting made her forehead scrunch in a cute way. “Hmm?” She stowed her purse and sweater under the bar and tied the apron around her waist. “What was that?”

“Well, I heard two things actually …” Even though he didn’t mean to, his eyes instantly zeroed in on her chest. Were her tits bigger? Or was she just wearing a different bra? They definitely looked bigger. Fuller. His cock thickened a little in his jeans.

She cleared her throat, and his eyes instantly jumped to her face. Impatience and curiosity burned in her gaze. It was almost like she wanted to say, “Spit it out,” but was too kind to say it out loud.

“Well, Wyatt told me what happened at Booch and Bagels today with Carnation’s mom.” He offered her a small, appreciative smile. “Thank you. You didn’t have to do that.”

Her cheeks pinked up in a way that made his dick swell even more. Fuck, he was like a teenager around her. “I believe in holding people accountable.”

All he did was nod. “Then Gertie told me today that apparently Wynona’s partner—Carnation’s father—had a secret second family on the mainland. Two kids with this woman and he went and married her, since he was never married to Wynona.”

Chloe’s jaw went slack and her mouth opened.

Why was sliding his thickening dick between those pretty, full lips the first thing Dom thought about? What the fuck was wrong with him?

“The land they’re living on is Reggie’s family land. Wynona isn’t sure she and Carnation will even be able to stay on the island now. It’s all very messy.”

Understanding dawned in Chloe’s eyes. “Hence, why Carnation is acting out. Her entire world has imploded and she has no sense of control. She is lashing out at others and picking fights in order to feel in control of her environment. She’s also not emotionally mature enough to properly process things.”

He blinked a bunch. “Wow. Uh, yeah. I mean, I hadn’t even thought about it like that, but you’re right.”

She pursed her lips and her eyes turned sad. “I feel for them both. And it does explain things. But there’s no excuse for that behavior. None. Not all abusers and people with trauma end up being abusers and serial killers. It explains things, but it doesn’t justify them.” The fire in her eyes spoke of more than just justice for Silas. Was her son the victim of bullying too?

He was about to ask her how her shift at the hostel went when Logan burst through the kitchen door, laughing with Renée right behind him. The two looked very chummy.

Hmm .

Chloe actually seemed relieved to see Logan and get a breakaway from Dom.

That stung.

“I was thinking,” she started, turning to Logan as he wrapped an apron around his waist, “why don’t we swap tonight? You run front, and I’ll barback for you? You can close down. I’m feeling pretty run-down, especially after last night.”

Logan’s eyes lit up. “For sure. That works for me.”

She smiled. “Awesome.”

Logan lifted his chin at Dom in greeting. “Hey, cuz. How’s it going?”

Even though they’d been at this a month now, Dom never stopped feeling like a third wheel behind his own bar when Chloe and Logan were there. It also didn’t help that it was easy for the entire world to see that they were both better bartenders than Dom. Quicker, friendlier, and more talented. Dom was no slouch, but he wasn’t blind to natural talent either. “Good,” he grunted, removing his apron. “I guess you two have it covered then?”

“Your baby is in safe hands with us,” Logan said, grabbing a pint glass from behind the bar and putting it under the tap for the fan favorite winter wheat ale.

Chloe met Dom’s gaze from where she was busy making a Caesar at the other end of the bar. Her smile was tight, but there was something in her eyes that said maybe she didn’t want him to go, but she needed him to go. Or was he reading into things too much? Projecting. He wanted her to want him to stay.

He took a step forward, bunched his fingers at his side, and pinned his gaze on her face. Worry creased her pretty features, then her eyes slid down his body, her pupils dilating. She swallowed, licked her lips, and pulled in a breath through her nose, deep enough to make her tits lift and once again draw his gaze.

Fuck.

He clenched and released his fists, the desire to approach her warring with his need to leave. To get away from her. Get her out of his head.

Impossible. But he needed to try.

Fuck it.

He stalked behind Logan up to her where she was busy fixing two negronis. “Thank you again for standing up for Silas. It’s nice to know that more people than just my family have my kid’s back. Have my back. You’re a good … friend .” The word tasted like acid on his tongue.

Then he did something incredibly stupid.

He hugged her.

And it was the most awkward, stiff hug of his life.

She was as stunned as he was, and her hands were occupied with an ice shovel and a bottle of vermouth. He cringed, then released her and backed away, too embarrassed to even look at her.

This woman had rendered him to an awkward, horny teenager. He hadn’t acted like this around a woman since high school. Since Remy.

Growling under his breath, he shoved his fingers into his hair and tore out the elastic. “See you guys later. Have a good night.” Then he left via the kitchen, making sure to keep his gaze forward, and not even glance down toward Chloe’s cabin.

She wasn’t there. What the fuck was wrong with him?

He arrived home to an empty house.

Silas was over at Wyatt’s with his cousins again. So Dom took advantage of the emptiness and went into his office where he had a punching bag hanging from the rafters. He quickly slid his hands into the gloves, tied them, and started to just wail on the bag.

Every confusing, frustrating thought crashed through his fists and into the bag until sweat poured down his face, and the front and back of his black button-up was drenched.

He hadn’t even bothered to change out of his jeans. And now he was hot and gross and in need of a shower.

He did that before he headed over to Wyatt’s to grab his kid.

“Hey, Dad,” Silas said, hanging over the railing from upstairs. “Griffon and I are just playing with his Hot Wheels up here. Can I sleep over? We built a fort and want to sleep in it.”

“What does Uncle Wyatt say?”

“Uncle Wyatt says it’s fine.”

“Does he?”

“He does,” Wyatt called from the kitchen.

Dom nodded and made his way to the kitchen where Wyatt already had a cracked beer waiting for him.

“Thanks,” Dom said, accepting the beer and immediately taking a sip. “Where’s Vica?” He glanced around, but couldn’t hear or see the fiery Italian anywhere.

“She popped to the store in town. Needed fresh basil for what she plans to make for dinner.” He shrugged and sipped his beer. “How are you doing? The eggs of the thing that crawled up your ass hatch and escape? Or are they making your colon itchy?”

Dom gave his brother a disgusted look. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

Wyatt merely shrugged again and wandered into the living room. “All kinds of things. But I don’t feel like diving into them right now. You and Chloe still …”

“No.”

“Just like that? No?”

“Just like that.”

“I don’t believe it.”

Dom sat down on the couch and sipped his beer. “Well, believe it. We messed up—twice—but now we’re committed to just being friends. It’s too complicated otherwise.” Too complicated. Too awkward. Too … painful. He was absolutely not going to tell his brother about what he just did down at the bar. The shame was still thick like zinc sunscreen on his skin. Wyatt could probably see it. Hell, the astronauts on the space station could probably see it.

Wyatt rolled his eyes. “Bullshit.”

Exhaling deep through his nose, Dom cocked his right ankle onto his left knee and leaned back into the soft couch cushions. “I don’t care what you think. That’s the way it is.”

His gut spun at the idea that he and Chloe really were completely done. That was the last thing he wanted, even though he knew it was for the best. The woman had burrowed so deep under his skin, he wasn’t sure he’d ever truly be rid of his feelings for her. And definitely not if she continued working for him and he had to see her every day.

“You still want her,” Wyatt said. “I can see it on your face. You forget that I was in a very similar situation not long ago. So was Clint, so was Bennett. We know the look of a conflicted man in love. We saw it in the mirror, we saw it on each other. And now we see it on you.”

“Yeah, but Vica wasn’t your employee,” Dom shot back. “There was no ethical barrier there. Just like there wasn’t one for Clint or Bennett. It’s not the same.” He swallowed and averted his gaze away from his brother’s judgmental stare. “And furthermore, it feels like I’m che—” His throat caught and he had to clear it a few times as emotion hung sharp and heavy on his tongue, keeping the words from forming.

“Like you’re cheating on Remy,” Wyatt finished for him, nodding in understanding. “I get that.”

Dom swallowed past the painful lump and met his brother’s gaze again. “How did you get past that?”

“Because they’re gone, Dom,” Wyatt said softly and gently. “They’ve been gone five years. And even though there is no timeline on grief and we all mourn in our own way, I was ready. So was Clint, and so was Bennett. Maybe you’re not? And that’s okay. But you need to reassure yourself that it’s not cheating. Remy is gone. You are not married anymore. And you—and your child—deserve happiness. She would want that for both of you.” He cleared his throat and tipped his beer to his lips taking a long pull.

The backs of Dom’s eyes burned and he looked away again. “I haven’t,” he cleared his throat for the umpteenth time, “I haven’t, or I guess hadn’t, been with anybody since Remy. And when it happened, it wasn’t how I expected.”

“Was it bad? Or weird?”

Dom locked eyes with his brother. “No. And that’s what’s so fucked up. The first time I had sex with someone else besides my wife should have been weird, right? It should have felt wrong.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know!” Dom exploded, throwing his empty hand in the air. “Because I wasn’t supposed to be with anyone else. Remy was it. Until death do us part. She was the one. And I knew that in high school when we first got together. And I knew that the whole time I was in the Marines and we were broken up and dating other people. I knew that eventually we’d find our way back to each other. And we did. And then she—” A hot tear slid down his cheek and he quickly took a sip of his beer, his hand shaking as he brought the bottle to his mouth. “And then she fucking died,” he whispered. Sniffing, he looked away and used the back of his hand to wipe his cheek.

Wyatt was quiet for a moment, giving Dom time to process and collect himself. “Listen to what you just said.”

Dom blinked and studied his brother, not quite following.

“Until death do 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 is not your 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’re together I’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 behind my bar.”

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 the last thing 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 a mean Caesar,” 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 having lasagne alla Portofino .”

Dom’s belly rumbled.

“Yeah, he’s staying,” Wyatt said with a smirk as he finished his beer. “His stomach just answered for him.”