Page 16 of Rescued by the Single Dad

Unlike last night when she’d had a bath, and the sky had been filled with the moon over the unforgiving sea, today’s view of the Puget Sound was awash of color and wonder. The water glittered in the morning sun like a jewel encrusted blanket, while boats bobbed and whizzed through the waves. One of the ferries that linked the islands toddled along in the distance, and the chirp of birds outside the open bathroom window filled her heart with hope.

Someone out there tried to kill her.

But they’d failed.

It wasn’t her time yet, and as terrified as she was, she was also determined to find out who pushed her off the yacht and make them pay.

She still had so much more that she wanted to do in this world. Things she wanted to achieve. She wanted to direct; she wanted to write; she wanted to find a good man, settle down, and raise a family.

She also really wanted a dog.

Flynn was allergic to dogs, so she held off getting one. But she promised herself that as soon as she was one hundred percent rid of him, she was going to rescue some beautiful soul with four legs and a heart-melting smile.

But first things first.

She needed to have a shower. Cool off and figure out a game-plan.

She tugged the T-shirt over her head and dropped the sweatpants to the floor, then carefully, with every laboring step, she headed into the shower.

Last night she nearly died.

Nearly.

But the kind man downstairs rescued her.

And she wasn’t going to squander this gift of a second chance.

She was going to achieve her dreams—all of them.

And not even a target on her back was going to stop her.

The dilemma: how was she going to do two opposite things at once? Investigate what happened to her and move on?

CHAPTER THREE

It made sense that she’d want to shower again.

He did some of his best thinking in the shower. It was his place to literally wash away his worries and reemerge fresh and with a clear mind.

Brooke could have as many showers as she needed.

It would take time for her to go through all the emotions that came with nearly being murdered, and finding out that someone wanted you dead. Not to mention the fight she just had on her hands swimming to shore against the current and struggling not to freeze to death.

He still wasn’t sure how she’d done it, and was impressed that she had.

He made his way downstairs, greeted by voices in the kitchen.

Most of those voices were of the small human variety, higher pitched and doused in giggles, but there was one deeper timbre he recognized.

He came around the corner into the kitchen to find his next oldest brother, Bennett and his two daughters, Aya and Emerson, who were sitting at the kitchen island with Talia while Bennett was mixing up pancake batter.

“I told you I’d get to it,” Clint said to his daughter.

“I know, but Uncle Ben makes better pancakes, anyway. He adds way more chocolate chips than you do.”

“Were there not any left from yesterday’s pancakes?” Clint asked.

“Uncle Jagger ate them all last night,” Talia said, unbothered.

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