CHAPTER TWENTY

N eedless to say, the news of the baby, getting demoted, and moving Chloe into the house gave Dom a bit of emotional whiplash. But he rallied as best he could, and within a week he was sleeping through the night—mostly—and Silas said he felt comfortable enough to stay with Chloe when he got home from school before Dom finished his shift at the pub.

Of course, Chloe still wasn’t so sure about staying home alone with Silas, and asked that they invite Jagger or Brooke or somebody else over as a buffer.

Dom didn’t want to push, but sooner or later, she needed to become comfortable with his kid. She lived in Dom’s home, was carrying Dom’s child, this wasn’t temporary. This was forever, and Silas sure as hell wasn’t going anywhere.

His alarm went off Wednesday morning as it always did, and with a groan, he rolled out of bed, his feet hitting the cool wood floor of the bedroom, an instant chill hitting his skin. Chloe was still asleep. The morning sickness and nausea had hit her full force, so the longer she could sleep in the morning, the better.

He was quiet as he padded across the cold flooring to the bathroom, then slid the pocket door closed as quiet as he could before turning on the light. It was still dark outside, and raindrops clung to the big picture window overlooking the sound.

The winter storms had already been relentless this year, riddling the beaches with new hunks of driftwood, tearing down powerlines, and toppling centuries-old trees across major roads.

Nobody was safe, which was why they dug deep into their contingency budget and purchased two more generators for the property, and doubled their emergency supplies, just in case.

If there was a big storm, the pub was one of the places where islanders could come for refuge. Even though they were on the water, they were protected more than some places, and not everybody had backup generators.

Vica, the mechanical engineer, had already built and installed a water pump from the creek on Bonn Remmen’s land next door, that way if there was damage to their running water, they could turn on the pump and at least have access to water from the creek. She even installed a filter so that the water was potable.

He finished in the bathroom, then slipped back into the bedroom, getting dressed in the dark without waking Chloe. Thankfully, her appointment late last week with Justine showed that there was indeed a little sac and growing baby in her belly, though it was still too early to detect a heartbeat. She’d go back in a few weeks for that. In the meantime, Dom—and the entire McEvoy family—were doing everything they could to reduce Chloe’s stress level.

To the point, however, where it was starting to annoy her a little.

Too bad.

Closing the bedroom door behind him, he snuck over to Silas’s room and opened the door. His son was still passed out cold, buried under his Spiderman comforter and on his Spiderman sheets. During the next eight months, Dom needed to double down on making sure Silas felt like he was a priority. The last thing Dom wanted was for Silas to feel like he was being replaced or that he didn’t fit into their growing family. All of this was really new and raw for everyone, and since his son could be really closed off, but also sensitive, Dom was working really hard on getting his kid to open up a bit more.

So far, it wasn’t working too well though.

He sat down on the edge of his kid’s bed and swept Si’s unruly brown hair off his forehead, before leaning down and pressing a kiss across his brow. “Time to wake up, dude. You have school.”

Silas’s lashes fluttered and he let out a little moan, but otherwise, he made no move to wake up.

Smirking, Dom repeated what he said again.

Silas stirred a little more and moaned.

“Well, I guess I’ll have to eat all the chocolate chip pancakes I was going to make, all by myself.” Dom let out a fake weary sigh. “So sad. Here I was looking for someone to not only help me make the pancakes, since apparently I never put in enough chocolate chips, but eat them too.”

Silas popped one eye open. “You never add enough chocolate chips,” he said groggily.

“Well, that’s why I need supervision. So I don’t mess it up.”

Groaning and rolling over onto his side to face Dom, Silas stretched his arms above his head, and his toes under the covers. Then he peeled open the other eye and blinked at his father. “You’ll still love me when the baby comes, right?”

Like a spear between his ribs.

Dom resisted the urge to literally clutch his chest, and cupped his son’s face instead. “Absolutely.”

They locked eyes and Silas just blinked at him, almost like he didn’t believe Dom’s words.

“Let me tell you something fascinating about the heart,” Dom said, releasing Silas’s face. “When someone new enters your life, someone that you grow to love, they don’t replace someone else. They don’t take space away from someone else. So when Uncle Wyatt had Griffon after he had Jake, it wasn’t like he loved Jake any less. Griffon didn’t steal space in Uncle Wyatt’s heart away from Jake. Uncle Wyatt’s heart simply grew bigger to accommodate more love.” He squinted at his kid. “Do you get what I’m saying?”

Slowly, Silas nodded, sitting up and leaning against his pillows. “I think so.”

“When the baby comes, my love for you will not change. There will not be any less of it for you because there is some for the baby. If anything, I will probably love you even more when I see how amazing of a big brother you are. As it is, I love you more today than I did yesterday. And I will love you more tomorrow than I do today.”

“Is that how it is with moms too?”

Oof .

He wasn’t expecting that question. Though he really should have been.

“Do you mean Chloe?”

Silas’s bony shoulder lifted. “Yeah. But also, Brooke and Justine and Vica. It’s not like Uncle Bennett stopped loving Aunt Carla, right?”

“Right. He will always love Aunt Carla. And Emme and Aya will always love their mother.”

“But their hearts just grew to make space for Justine.” Silas didn’t frame it as a question. He was making sense of it, which was such a huge relief.

“Exactly. They welcomed another person, and more love into their hearts but that doesn’t mean the love they have for Aunt Carla shrunk or disappeared. That’s what’s so fascinating about the heart is its capacity to love knows no bounds.”

He scrunched up his nose in an adorable way which also made the dimples on his cheeks come out. “What does that mean?”

“It means the heart’s ability to grow and welcome more love and people is endless. It’s not like the ferry where there is a maximum limit.”

“Ohhhh.” Silas nodded. “Yeah, I hate that. When some big, dumb motorhome with gray nomads in it takes up the length of two cars on the ferry so we’re stuck waiting for the next sailing.” He rolled his blue-hazel eyes. “Annoying gray nomads.”

The kids and their Bluey references killed him. Gray nomads were retired people—typically with gray hair—who took long, extended glamping trips. However, it was common knowledge that since they were retired, they operated at a much more leisurely speed than the rest of the world, since they had nowhere to be at any particular time.

“Is that what’s happening in your heart with Chloe and Mom?” Silas asked. “You still love Mom, but now your heart has grown so you also love Chloe?”

Another thing they did in the wrong order. He’d moved her in and knocked her up all before telling her he loved her.

Fuck, he was really screwing all of this up, wasn’t he?

He ruffled his kid’s hair and smiled. “My heart continues to grow and welcome more people into it. Chloe and the baby are definitely on the list.”

Silas gave him a curious look, one with bunched brows and skepticism, but he didn’t say anything. The kid was awfully cerebral for six. He understood and thought about things in the quiet of his own mind, more than he ever said anything out loud.

Dom stood up. “Do you need help picking out your clothes for the day?”

Now Silas looked downright insulted. “I’m six, Dad. I can do it myself.”

Holding up his hands in surrender, Dom chuckled. “All right, all right. I was just offering. Remember to brush both your hair and your teeth.”

Silas climbed out of bed, wearing nothing but his Spiderman boxer briefs and wandered over to his dresser. “What’s the forecast?”

Snorting, Dom grabbed his phone from his back pocket.

“More rain and wind,” Dom said. “And lots of it.”

Silas grumbled. “I hate this time of year. What’s the temperature. And the windchill? What direction is the wind coming from? And how strong will the gusts be?”

With amusement pulling the corners of his lips up, Dom scrolled for more information. “A high of forty-five, a low of forty, but feels like thirty-five with the windchill. Gusts up to forty miles an hour coming from the south.”

Still shaking his head, Silas pulled out a pair of camo-patterned fleece pants and a black long-sleeve T-shirt with a Spiderman graphic on the front. “Will this work?”

“It should. Yup.”

With a face that rivaled the internet sensation Grumpy Cat, Silas wrestled himself into his clothes, then opened up the top drawer for socks. “I’m going to double-up on my socks, and pack my rain pants, and my heavy, waterproof winter coat, and gloves. I think an umbrella would be dumb with those heavy gusts though.”

“Do what you gotta do, bud.” Dom turned to head downstairs when his phone vibrated in his palm. “I’ll meet you downstairs,” he said, bringing up the message from Bennett as he entered the hallway and took the stairs.

Island Elders asked if we are prepared to do our in-person proposal today. Apparently, a few of them are caravanning down to the Baja next week to ride out the winter and want to get this off their plates.

What the fuck? Today? Were they ready?

Dom was the wrong person to ask that question. Because to him, they’d never be ready. But Bennett and Jagger wrote their scripts and sent them to Wyatt, Clint, and Dom for approval. As per their earlier discussion, Dom was not going to do a speech, but simply answer questions directed at him. He hated public speaking and knew he’d fuck it all up if he had to speak more than was absolutely necessary.

Wyatt responded first.

(Wyatt) Fucking hell. It’s like they think we ALL have nothing going on. None of us applying for this land are retired. We all run businesses and have young families. Not to mention the fucking storm!!!

(Bennett) We’re ready. We can do this.

(Clint) Any idea if others have gone before us or if we’re first?

(Jagger)I’m sure ol’ Raina the Rancid would be gloating if they already went. So I think we’re probably first.

Oh, Jagger. What exactly was your beef with Raina? It had to stem beyond him thinking she was somehow cheating and befriending the Island Elders to swing their vote in favor of Westhaven Winery.

After Dom put on the coffee, he texted his reply. What time?

They’ve asked to have it at 5pm. Replied Bennett.

Why so fucking late? Whatever. Once they got the in-person proposal done, that would be one less thing looming over their heads as they headed into the Christmas season. The party that Wyatt proposed they throw and invite islanders to, along with Santa Claus, was consuming nearly all of their free time and brain power since it was next weekend. Already a few of the food orders he’d put in had been canceled or delayed due to weather. Who knew what this new storm was going to delay?

All Dom did was send a thumbs-up reply, which prompted the rest of the brothers to do the same. They’d figure out the logistics of who was driving and watching the children later.

Silas joined him in the kitchen, the top of his head brushed, but the back was still a colossal rat’s nest like usual. Sleep crusties hung tightly to the corners of his eyes and his movements were bogged down with fatigue. It wasn’t just Chloe who was feeling the onset of exhaustion. They were all tired. Tired of the shorter days, the crappy weather, and the chilly temperature.

Spring could not come soon enough.

Without saying anything, they got to work making the pancakes. Dom brought out his electric griddle, and Silas measured out the chocolate chips.

They were just finishing up their stacks when Chloe came downstairs, all bundled up in a pair of Dom’s gray sweatpants and one of his San Camanez Brewery hoodies that hung down to her knees. She’d twisted her red hair into a topknot and put on big, fuzzy socks. Yet, he could already tell that she’d puked before coming down, and was cold.

Springing up from his seat, he went to the kettle—which was still piping hot—and poured her a mug of peppermint tea. She wouldn’t want to eat breakfast, but her tender stomach needed something in it.

“What time are you working at the hostel today?” he asked, setting her mug in front of her as she took a seat at the kitchen table.

She glanced at the clock on the oven. “Ten.”

“Bennett just texted and we’ve all got to go and give our in-person proposal for Bonn Remmen’s land tonight at five o’clock at the community center.”

Cradling her mug in both hands but not lifting it or taking a sip, she wrinkled her nose. “Why so late?”

“I was wondering the same freaking thing.” He shook his head and took his seat again, lifting his coffee to his mouth. Silas had his “coffee” too and took a sip, mimicking Dom’s movements. “I think Brooke and Vica will be home and able to watch the kids. Justine’s working. Otherwise, I guess we can always bring them with us and just give them all tablets to watch in the lobby for like an hour.”

Her gaze, although still tired, turned empathetic. “You’ll all do great. Your case is rock-solid. So is your presentation.” Once Bennett and Jagger finished the final drafts, they sent them out to everyone, and Dom let Chloe read it. She’d been thoroughly impressed.

But that was their speech on paper. Not in person. Not in front of the Council, whom they were trying to win over. To woo and court into giving them Bonn Remmen’s land.

He smiled at her over the rim of his coffee mug, and she smiled at him over the rim of her tea, their eyes locked, and the two of them sharing a moment.

She looked good sitting in his home at his kitchen table.

Like she belonged there.

Was this really their new normal? Their new forever?

Guilt over moving another woman into Remy’s house still gnawed away at him from time to time, but it was nothing like it’d once been. Just like he told Silas, it wasn’t that he didn’t still love Remy, his heart had simply grown to accommodate more people.

Silas stood up to take his plate to the dishwasher when a sudden and abrupt clunk against the sliding glass door to the patio made them all jump. Silas dropped his plate to the tile he jumped so high, and it shattered into a million pieces like Corelle was known to do.

“What was that?” Chloe exclaimed, setting her mug down and rising from her seat.

Dom rose to his seat too. “I don’t know.” But since there were no broken windows, he was less concerned about what smacked his window and more concerned about the sharp pieces of plate on his floor.

“I’m sorry, Dad,” Silas said, too stunned to move. His bottom lip wobbled and his eyes started to well up with tears. “It was an accident.”

Ignoring the fact that the pieces of the broken plate were sharp, Dom kneeled down on the tile, shards, and maple syrup, in front of his son. “That’s right. It was an accident. And accidents happen. It’s okay, buddy. I’m not mad. That crash against the window shocked all of us. If I’d had a plate in my hand, I probably would have dropped it too.” He reached up and swept a tear from his son’s cheek. “Here. Take a seat and let me get this all swept up. We don’t want you cutting your feet, okay?” He helped Silas back onto his chair and went to reach for the broom, but Chloe had beat him to it.

“I got it,” she said, going to work shifting all the broken pieces into a neat little pile. Her eyes turned empathetic toward Silas. “That was really scary, wasn’t it?”

Silas nodded. “What was it?”

“From what I could tell, a large branch was knocked free from that tree over there and it came barrelling through the sky right into your glass door.” She shook her head. “I know that I spilled a bit of tea on the table when it happened, I was so surprised.”

“At least it wasn’t a bird that got hurt,” Silas said, searching for the bright side. “That would have been really sad.”

Chloe nodded. “Really sad.” While she finished sweeping up the broken and sticky plate, Dom grabbed the hand-held standup vacuum from the pantry closet and gave the tile and surrounding area a thorough pass in case Chloe missed a few sharp pieces.

“There. No harm, no foul. Good as new.” Dom ruffled Silas’s hair then stowed the vacuum back where it belonged.

“Dad, do you think I should pack extra socks and pants in case what I’m wearing right now gets wet at recess?”

Dom nodded, grabbed his empty coffee cup off the counter, and put it in the dishwasher. “I do. I think that’s a good idea. Always be prepared.”

With a nod of his own, Silas took off upstairs to go brush his teeth and grab his spare clothes. That left Dom and Chloe alone in the kitchen. She dumped the dustpan, then turned to face him. “You okay?”

Exhaling, he leaned back against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest. “We’ve done everything so out of order, haven’t we?”

Confusion swam in her blue-green eyes. “What do you mean? Like the fact that we haven’t even been on a proper date and yet I’ve moved in with you and am having your baby? Yeah … I mean, I guess we’ve done things a little backward or whatever.”

Fuck. They hadn’t even been on a date. All they really did was talk and have sex. Two things he thoroughly enjoyed doing with her, but what kind of a foundation was that to build a life on?

He went to tear out the hair elastic that kept his hair out of his face only to realize he hadn’t tied it back yet. It was such a habit now. So he just raked his fingers through his hair, causing it to fan out from behind his ears and frame his face, hitting his scruffy jaw. “Now, I feel like a true asshole. I haven’t even taken you on a date. Not one. You’re having my baby and …” Dropping his gaze to the floor, he sighed, then lifted his focus back to her face. “Let’s get Logan to cover the bar tonight and we’ll go on a date. We can go to the Thatch Pub and have dinner. Talk about … whatever we want.”

All we do is talk.

“Shit,” he grumbled, “I mean, we don’t have to talk. We talk so much already. We can do something besides talk.”

Her brow hiked up in a suggestive way. “I think we do a lot of that too. And I’m not one for doing it in front of an audience.”

“Fuck.” He raked his fingers through his hair again, then dragged them down his face, the short hair on his jaw, coarse against his skin. “ That’s not what I meant. I just mean … we’re doing this, you and me. We’re living together. We’re having a baby. We’re starting this life, this future together, and I went about it all wrong.”

“Takes two to make a baby, Dom. I wasn’t exactly champing at the bit to go to the movies with my boss.” Her eyes widened and she held up a finger. “I mean I was , but only if you weren’t my boss.”

“Which I’m not now. Kind of.” His shoulders slumped. “I’m trying here. And apparently, epically failing.”

She stepped toward him until their toes touched, then she reached up and cupped his jaw. “You’re not failing. Your gesture is sweet. And very appreciated.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming.”

That made her smile. “ But , maybe we need to wait a bit. Until we know the pregnancy is viable before we …”

“Before we …? Before we what? Before we go on a date? How does that make any sense?”

Chewing on her lip, it was her turn to avoid his gaze for a hot minute.

“Chloe?” He gripped her by the side of the face with both hands, his pinky fingers resting on her shoulders. He wasn’t doing it aggressively or holding on hard. It was just so she couldn’t avoid him. So she knew she had his full attention and he wasn’t going anywhere. “What do you mean?”

Swallowing, she met his gaze. “Before we … plan for the future.”

If he could have reared back, he would have, but his ass was against the counter, so all he could do was move his head back and widen his eyes. “Hang on … are you saying that if this pregnancy doesn’t take, you’re not … you’re not sticking around? That we’re only doing this ,” he waved his hand around to encompass the house, “building a life together, because you’re pregnant?”

Tears welled up in her eyes. “Well … isn’t that the only reason we’re moving so fast? Would I have moved in otherwise?”

His eyes darted across her face quickly as he racked his brain for a response that wouldn’t confirm what she’d just said. “I … maybe not move in , but—”

Another smile curled her full lips, but it was a small, sad smile that made a dull ache form in his solar plexus. “It’s okay.” She swallowed. “But I need to get dressed and ready for yoga.” Rising up onto her tiptoes, she placed her hand on his chest and pressed a kiss to his lips. “We can talk about a date night later.” Then she headed upstairs, leaving Dom standing there confused, hurt, and once again questioning his gut and whether it was to be trusted anymore at all.