Page 128 of Rescued by the Single Dad

The man’s eyes darted to the people around him, landing finally on Brooke. They went wide. “Brooke! Brooke Barker! So it is true! You’re alive.”

Magma filled Clint’s veins.

He crouched down and checked Talia out from head to toe, making sure he didn’t move her before he knew her spine and neck could handle being picked up.

“It’s just my arm and my face, daddy,” Talia said as she started to quiver in his arms. Shock was already setting in.

The argument between Jagger and the driver was white noise in Clint’s ears as he gripped his daughter tighter. “If you’re not here to eat, get the fuck off my property,” he bellowed, making sure he locked eyes with the driver of the SUV. “And you’ll be hearing from my fucking lawyer. We have cameras everywhere.”

The man had the wherewithal to gulp, at least. Then Clint spun away and carried Talia up the hill.

“I’ve already called Grayson,” Bennett said, falling in line with Clint. “He knows you’re on your way with Talia for an X-ray and whatever.”

Clint grunted.

The muffled sounds of his daughter crying as she buried her face in his neck, tore into his heart until it resembled nothing but tatters.

He reached the house and set her down on the couch, then he went to his first aid kit and got her set up with a sling. “This will have to do until we get to Dr. Malone, okay, pumpkin?”

Talia nodded. Her tears had already dried up. She was such a tough cookie.

“Aya suggested we go down and get Uncle Dom to make us some smoothies, so we were heading to the restaurant when this big black truck thing backed out of the stall way too fast and hit me.”

“Christ all fucking mighty,” Clint barely muttered under his breath. He took a few deep breaths, then sunk down to a crouch beside his daughter. “On a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst, how badly does it hurt?”

Talia’s bottom lip wobbled. “Maybe ... maybe an eight.”

Clint nodded. “We need to get you to Dr. Malone, okay?” Then he scooped her up in his arms again just as the front door opened to reveal Brooke, a stricken and sick look on her face.

Rocco came out of the study at the same time, too. “What’s going on?”

“Talia got hit by some jackass who reversed in the parking lot. But they’re here for Brooke.”

Rocco and Brooke locked eyes.

“I need to get Talia to the doctor for an X-ray,” Clint said, pushing past Brooke, who stood in the doorway.

“Clint,” she croaked, “I never meant for this to happen.”

He knew she didn’t. How could she?

Nevertheless, her presence there had ultimately resulted in his child getting hurt.

He had feelings for Brooke, but Talia was and always would be his number one priority.

She watched him climb into his truck after placing Talia in the back seat. He didn’t have the energy to reassure her right now. He needed to make sure his kid was okay.

Brooke probably understood. She was a smart woman. She would know that he needed to focus on Talia. They could talk about things when he got home.

He drove away, only rolling down his window at the bottom of the hill long enough to tell Jagger—who was still dealing with the asshole who backed into Talia—where he was going.

The SUV driver paled. “I’m just here to speak with Brooke. I didn’t mean to hurt her. I’m—”

“Don’t care,” Jagger said, cutting him off. The crowd had dispersed back into the pub, aside from Dom, Wyatt, and Jagger. “You came into the pub asking about Brooke, and we told you to get lost.”

“The world has a right to know the true story,” he protested.

“No, it fucking doesn’t. Brooke has a right to peace and privacy. We all do.” Then Clint rolled up his window and headed off down the laneway at a speed much too slow for his liking. But he couldn’t exactly be a hypocrite and speed off when Jagger just chastised that fucker back there for speeding.

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