CHAPTER SIX

T he guilt wasn’t as thick inside him as it probably should have been as he watched Chloe on the camera as she cashed out that night.

The bar was his baby. His responsibility. And he needed to make sure it was well taken care of.

Sure, he did his best to be present for Silas.

They made homemade mac ‘n’ cheese together for dinner, then he got out the tabletop campfire and they roasted marshmallows and made s’mores.

Silas had a stack of books he made Dom read him. Then they played Go Fish, followed by Connect Four. When he tucked his son in at night, Silas said it was the best day ever because he got to spend so much of it with Dom.

That, of course, choked Dom up something fierce, and he hugged his kid tighter and longer than normal. He then sat on the edge of his son’s bed, stroking his head until he fell asleep.

Then he sat there even longer and just watched him sleep.

Peaceful. Innocent. And perfect.

It was curiosity and nerves that pulled him from his son’s room and prompted Dom to pace his living room and dining room, itching to know what was going on down at the bar.

Then he stood on his porch with his door open so he could hear Silas if he woke up, but kept his ears peeled for sounds down at the bar.

He heard nothing out of the ordinary. Just voices, cars coming and going, and the odd burst of laughter.

No smoke alarms, no gunshots, no terrified screaming.

Still, that didn’t mean chaos wasn’t quietly taking shape inside.

He was still on the porch, drinking a beer and sitting in a lawn chair when the crunch of gravel beneath footsteps pulled his attention to the three shadowy figures approaching.

“Tell me you’re not sitting here eavesdropping?” Brooke asked, disappointment in her tone. “The bar is busy, but Renée and Chloe are managing just fine.”

“Can’t eavesdrop. It’s too far away,” he grumbled, tipping his beer to his lips.

“You’re trying to though,” Justine replied.

“I haven’t gone down there.” He sighed. “That’s saying something.”

“True,” Vica replied, “but hiring Chloe was supposed to put your mind at ease. To give you the opportunity to relax. This does not look like relaxing.”

“People relax in different ways.”

The women stood in front of him now, staring down at him with gazes of genuine concern. It was tough to see their faces in the dark, since he’d flicked off the porch light to keep the bugs from going in the house. But he could feel their worry.

“She’s lovely, Dom. I don’t think you have anything to worry about.” Justine rested a hand on his shoulder. “My goodness, you’re tense.”

He grunted.

“You need to go see Phia or JD at Unger Wellness for a massage,” Vica added. “I swear JD’s hands are magic.”

Dom grunted again.

Brooke sighed. “You make her nervous. She’s terrified she’s going to screw up and you’ll fire her. But I honestly think she’s the perfect fit for the bar.” Her lips twisted. “And maybe elsewhere too?” Then she lifted her brows.

Vica and Justine both smiled knowingly.

Dom finished his beer, got up from his seat, and wandered inside to grab another one. “Just because my brothers settled down again doesn’t mean it’s in the cards for me.”

He opened the fridge and snagged another bottle. This time it was the Belgian witbier that was so popular. Then he joined the women back on the porch and took his seat again.

Brooke frowned. “There is no timeline for grief. But, at least cut her some slack.”

“We’ll see if the place is still standing, and the money is all there in the morning.”

The women shook their heads.

“Goodnight, Dom,” they each said, before heading to their houses.

He grunted, tipped the beer to his lips and took a long pull.

It was another thirty minutes before he heard the last vehicle pull away for the night—probably Chloe’s. All he wanted to do was run down there and check on things. Make sure the doors were all locked and the security system was on. But he promised his brothers he wouldn’t. He promised them he’d stay home with his kid.

And more importantly, he promised Silas that he was home for the night.

He finished his beer on the porch. Then he headed inside, doubling back on the camera footage of the room with the safe and watching Chloe as she meticulously cashed out and balanced the night’s sales. Then she put all the money in, punched in the code, and even double-checked that it was locked.

He tossed and turned most of the night, unable to stop thinking about the fact that he wasn’t thee one to shut down the bar.

That he wasn’t the one to lock the doors, or set the alarm.

Maybe he got a couple of hours sleep, but when his alarm went off in the morning to get Silas up for school, he didn’t feel like he’d gotten a wink.

“Gotta get up, buddy,” he said, shaking his little guy gently.

“What? Why?”

“You have school.”

“I do? Isn’t it Sunday? What’s the forecast? Do I need to wear my rainboots?”

Dom paused.

Oh shit!

Silas was right. It was Sunday.

Fuck.

“Oh man. Sorry, buddy. You’re right.”

“Can I come snuggle with you?” Silas asked, his voice still sleepy.

“Sure.” Dom scooped his kid up, Silas flopping against him like a backpack on his front, and Dom carried him back to his king-sized bed where they both passed out again quickly.

Neither of them roused until nearly nine thirty.

Dom still felt like a semitruck had run him over, but it was no longer a semitruck carrying elephants, just a semitruck carrying feather pillows.

“I know we usually do a big breakfast on Saturday, kiddo, but can we just do cereal? I’m bagged.” He turned on the coffee maker as they both hung out in the kitchen in just their boxer briefs.

“Sure,” his easy-going kid replied. “Are you going to be home again tonight?”

“That’s the plan.”

Silas bounced on his seat at the kitchen table. “Can we watch a movie tonight? Maybe Spiderman?” He glanced out the sliding patio doors into their backyard. “Can I use your phone to check the forecast?”

Dom snorted. Silas loved Spiderman—and the weather. He’d seen all the movies many times, but never grew tired of them. His favorite was the one with Toby Maguire and Doctor Octopus. “I think we could probably arrange that.”

“Yesssssss,” Silas said, doing a fist pump while using his thumbprint to open up Dom’s phone and go to the weather app. For as long as Dom could remember, Silas had been obsessed with the weather. Mostly knowing what it was going to do that day and for the week. He liked to be prepared. So whether that was bringing his boots, rain jacket, umbrella, gloves, or his rain pants, the kid just preferred to be in the know. “It looks like no rain for the week. Though, potentially some light showers on Thursday.” His brows wrinkled. “I’ll pack my boots to school just in case. But it doesn’t look like we’ll have to deal with rain on Halloween.”

Dom smirked. “Sounds good. Are you still planning to be Spiderman for Halloween?”

Silas was busy practicing shooting pretend webs from his wrists by pressing his ring and middle fingers into his palms and making pshoo-pshoo sounds. “Yes. Of course I am.” His kid gave him a perplexed look. Like any other option or suggestion was out of the question, and how dare Dom even waste words on asking him if he’d changed his mind.

Dom snorted a laugh and poured himself some coffee while filling two bowls with Rice Krispies. He brought the oat milk over to the table for both of them, along with their bowls. Then he went back for his coffee and a container of washed blueberries.

“My mug?” Silas reminded him just as he was about to sit down.

Dom stood back up. “Right. Sorry.” He went back to the kitchen and brought down Silas’s Spiderman mug, then he poured the absolute smallest amount of coffee into it—like two tablespoons—and brought it over to the table. Silas then poured the oat milk into his mug, then over his cereal. Dom poured the milk over his cereal as well.

“Cheers,” Silas said, lifting his mug.

Smiling, Dom tapped his mug against his son’s. They took sips at the same time and went, “Ah,” at the same time.

“Nothing like coffee in the morning to wake you up,” Silas said wiping the back of his hand across his mouth before digging into his cereal.

Dom rolled his eyes and smiled, ruffling his son’s unruly dark-blond hair. “Eat your breakfast, you little nut.”

She hadn’t given him enough of a reason to fire her. So he didn’t.

But he also made sure that their overlap was as minimal as possible. Chloe arrived for her four o’clock shifts at three forty-five, and Dom made sure he was out of there by four thirty. It wasn’t always easy, but he did his best.

Being around her made him feel things he wasn’t at all prepared to feel, and the fact that she was an employee just made those feelings all the more inappropriate.

He was her boss.

He was a widower.

He had a son.

He was an emotional wreck.

There was a litany of reasons stacked against him and the possibility of any relationship, let alone one with Chloe Voss, no matter how impossible it was to get her out of his head.

The customers loved her though. So did the staff.

The whole island was abuzz, chattering about her Caesars and some of the other interesting cocktails she was bringing into the mix.

He still wasn’t willing to add Caesars to their cocktail menu, or their specials board. If someone came in and asked for one, he couldn’t stop her from making it though.

Fortunately, nobody had come in yet and asked him to make them one. It was like everybody knew only Chloe made them, and that she only worked at night.

Dom still worked the night shift Sunday and Monday. So he handed the day shift over to Renée those days and made those Chloe’s days off. Renée said she didn’t want any days off, but that wasn’t how things worked. So her usual days off were Tuesday and Wednesday.

They still needed to hire another bartender though. But he was reluctant.

He didn’t want to hire Chloe, and now his brothers were pressuring him to hire another one?

Fuck that.

Now, it was the morning of October 31st and Dom had closed last night since it was Monday. Even though today was supposed to be Renée’s day off, she was going to fill in for Chloe on the bar, and Jagger was going to float in the dining room and help run food or barback if needed.

Dom was busy in the kitchen making breakfast for him and Silas, while also making Silas’s lunch, when his little Spiderman came shooting webs into the kitchen, all decked out in his costume.

He aimed his wrist at Dom and went, “Pshoo ! I got you!”

Dom clasped his forearms together like they’d been trussed up with webbing. “Ah! Spiderman!”

“ Pshoo! ” Silas aimed his wrist at Dom’s ankles. “I got you again.”

Dom did the same with his ankles so they were bound too. Then he wobbled and gently fell to the tile floor, landing on his side like a damsel in distress on the train tracks. “You’re not going to get away with this, Spiderman!”

“It is you who won’t get away with it. You stole the diamonds and tried to steal all the puppies of the world. You’re going to jail, Admiral Awful.”

“You’ll never take me alive!”

“ Pshoo . Now you can’t speak. I webbed your mouth.”

Dom struggled against his invisible restraints and mumbled like he was gagged.

“Dad?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Do I have to dance at the Halloween dance tonight?”

Dom mumbled, pretending to still be gagged.

Silas rolled his blue-hazel eyes, reached forward, and pretended to remove the webbing. “Now you can talk.”

“You don’t have to dance if you don’t want to. I think it’s called a Halloween party anyway. With games and activities. You remember the one last year? It’ll be just like that. Different activities in each classroom, then the DJ and dancefloor in the gym. Why?”

“Carnation, who is in Aya’s class, says she’s going to dance with me. And I don’t know if I want to.”

“Then don’t.” He brought his wrists up. “Can you untie me so I can finish making your toast?”

Silas untied the webbing from his ankles and wrists, then “helped” Dom stand up.

“She keeps chasing me around the playground trying to kiss me too.”

“And what do you say?”

“I tell her I don’t like it, and I don’t want to be kissed. But she doesn’t listen. Then Aya got involved and said that Carnation needs to respect boundaries and consent, and that I’m not consenting to being kissed. Then Carnation said Aya needed to mind her own business. Then Aya said Carnation needs to go jump in the ocean with rocks in her pockets.”

Dom rolled his lips inward to keep from laughing. “Well, that escalated quickly.” It was well known that Carnation and Aya were mortal enemies. But in this case, even though Aya’s retaliatory comeback was frightening, she was right to stand up for her younger cousin and defend his boundaries and consent.

“I just don’t want to kiss her. She’s mean. And I’m six.”

“Yeah, kissing girls this early isn’t advisable. Too many colds and germs.” The toast popped up in the toaster and he slathered their slices with peanut butter, then drizzled on just a little bit of the Barrington’s Bees lavender honey. “Here.” He handed Silas his plate.

“Don’t forget my coffee.”

“I would never.”

They clinked their mugs at the table again and dove into their peanut butter toast.

“Maybe I’ll just wear my mask all night. Then Carnation definitely can’t kiss me. And she might not even know it’s me. I know of a few other kids going as Spiderman.” A big glob of peanut butter clung to his cheek, and he tried to get it off with his tongue but it wasn’t long enough.

Dom’s lips twitched as he watched his son struggle. Finally, he took pity on him and handed him a napkin.

“If I see Carnation’s parents there, I’ll have a chat with them tonight. The fact that she isn’t respecting your boundaries is concerning. And you certainly don’t have to dance if you don’t want to. I’ve never been big into dancing either. So I don’t blame you.”

“I don’t like the idea of people just watching me. Having so many eyes on me.”

Dom nodded and sipped his coffee. “I hear that.”

“What time are we going trick or treating?”

“I think the plan is to leave here at about four. Then we’ll do an hour of trick or treating before heading to the school for the party. And we’ll have dinner there. They’ve got Slice of Heaven providing pizza.”

Silas’s eyes lit up. “Will you remember to bring my dairy pills so I can have the cheese and not get the farts?”

Dom nodded and pulled his phone out of his back pocket, setting a reminder for three forty-five. “I just set a reminder. I will bring your lactose pills.”

After some trial and error, and several visits to the doctor, it was determined that Silas was lactose intolerant. It was mild, but nevertheless, they did their best to avoid dairy when possible since it gave the kiddo terrible, very stinky gas. However, on occasions like tonight where there would be pizza made with real cheese and not soy cheese, Silas simply took a lactose pill to help combat the effects. It usually worked well enough. Or, the kid gassed them all out on the drive home and they had to drive with the windows down while everyone hung their heads out and laughed hysterically.

“Are you going to go down to the beach to talk to Mom?” Silas sipped his “coffee.”

Dom gave his son a startled, confused look.

“Aya said she heard Uncle Bennett and Uncle Jagger talking about it. That on Halloween or the day after Halloween you go down to the beach where we spreaded Mom’s ashes and you talk to her. Because today or tomorrow or whatever is the Day of the Dead, and Mom was half-Mexican.” He wrinkled his nose. “How much Mexican am I then?”

Dom was still struggling with the knowledge that his son knew about him going down to the beach to speak with Remy. “I, uh … you’re a quarter-Mexican. Are you okay with me going? Do you want to come?”

Silas got a slightly haunted look in his eyes. “No. I think it would be scary. It’s where the ghosts are, right?”

Despite his son’s affinity for superheroes and fighting bad guys, Silas was a very sensitive kid and easily spooked. That, and his age and early bedtime, were why Dom had never brought him down to the beach with him on Halloween night, the eve of Dia de los Muertos. Typically, The Day of the Dead was celebrated on November 1 st and 2 nd , but Dom went as close to those dates as he could when it wasn’t pouring rain. And it was slated to be a clear night tonight. It was also the eve of Dia de los Muertos so he figured it was close enough.

He cleared his throat, reached over and ruffled his son’s hair. “It’s where the spirits come. The Day of the Dead is when the veil between the dead and the living is the thinnest. So I will bring her favorite food, marigolds, and her photo. I’ll light some candles and just feel her energy, and speak with her. Do you have anything you’d like me to say to her?”

Silas stared blankly ahead for a moment in thought, then he shrugged. “Just that I love her and I’m sorry I can’t really remember her, but I’m sure she was a great mom.”

Well, fuck. That gutted him to the bone.

Dom was speechless for a moment, so he sipped his coffee to compose himself.

Silas reached for a handful of blueberries.

“I … I will pass that along,” Dom finally said. He glanced at his phone. “Shit! We’ve gotta get moving. The bus will be here in ten minutes.”

Silas’s eyes went wide. Then he crammed another handful of blueberries into his mouth and leaped up from the table. “I need to brush my teeth,” he said through a mouthful of berries. Then he took off at a sprint upstairs.

“Don’t run with food in your mouth,” Dom called after him. With his throat tight, he glanced at the photo of Remy on the small table beside the sliding glass door out to the back patio. “You were a great mom. And he’s a phenomenal kid because of it.”