Page 147 of Summer with the Single Dad

“If your mother crawls under our bed, I will deal with her. Now,” he glanced at his watch. “They will be here in ten minutes. Go lay down and breathe. Meditate, or scream into a pillow. Whatever you need.”

“Where are the girls?”

“Emme is upstairs doing her homework and I think Aya has joined a pack of wild dogs and has already become their alpha.” He kissed her on the lips this time, feeling her smirk beneath his own. “She’s upstairs too. She wanted to draw your parents and sisters each cards to welcome them to the island.”

“That’s so sweet. But my mother will probably throw them in the recycling as soon as she gets home. She never kept anything we gave her made of paper. Said it was a fire hazard, and she hated clutter.”

He gritted his teeth. He’d met Hui Ying three times in the last six months, and the woman was cold to him each and every time—and that was including her tiny, little hands. There was nothing he could do to warm her to him.

But he realized that maybe that was just who she was, and she’d never thaw to him or his family. If Justine could make peace—sort of—with her dysfunctional family of overachievers, then so could he.

“It doesn’t matter what happens to the art after Aya gives it to them. It’s keeping her busy and she’s just being kind.”

Justine released a weary sigh. “Why did we agree to this?”

“Because it’s almost Christmas and the only time your entire family could get time off. Plus, they’ve been asking to come to the island.” He turned her around, so she faced away from him and he massaged her shoulders. “We need a safe word.”

“For what?” She craned her neck around to glance at him. “I’m not having sex when my parents are due here in seven minutes.”

He snorted. “No. For when things get to be too overwhelming for you. Say it, and I’ll swoop in and save you.”

“Oh! Ummm …”

“Tabarnak?”

She snickered. “No. I don’t swear. My whole family knows that.”

He snapped his finger. “I got it. Fondant.”

“Fondant?”

“Yeah. Because we like to bake and decorate cakes.”

“And how am I supposed to casually work that into conversation?”

“You can do it. I have faith.” He resumed massaging her and slowly her tension seeped away—sort of. But they were rudely interrupted by a buzz on his phone to indicate someone was trying to enter through the security gate.

“Hello?” he answered.

“Bonjour, Bennett. It is Guy and Hui Ying Brazeau. With Daniela and Tasha. Might we come in, please?”

Bennett chuckled. “Sure thing, Dr. Brazeau. One sec.” He hit the “open” button so the gate would swing open automatically.

When he placed his hands on her shoulders once more, all that tension was back. “Maybe I can text Grayson to see if he’ll put me on call tonight. Hmm?”

“No.” He ushered her toward the front door. “Grayson knows your family is coming and that he’d have me to answer to if he actually took you up on that. You need this.”

“I also need a pelvic exam every three years. Doesn’t mean it’s pleasant.”

Snorting, he heaved open the front door, letting a chilly gust of wind precede their bundled-up guests.

“Welcome, welcome,” he said, holding open the door for all the Dr. Brazeaus. “Girls,” he called up the stairs. “Our guests are here.” He approached Justine’s mom first. “Let me take your coat, Dr. Brazeau.”

“Thank you,” she said curtly, sliding out of her black down jacket.

Little feet thundered down the stairs. He helped Justine’s father out of his jacket, then her sisters, hanging all the coats up on the hooks along the wall.

“And who are these petite belles?” Justine’s dad asked as Bennett’s daughters, complete in big, poofy, Christmas-themed party dresses, came to stand at the bottom of the stairs.

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