Title: Challenged by the Single Dad
Series: The Single Dads of San Camanez: The Brew Brothers
Author: Whitley Cox
Genre: Single Dad Romance
Release Date: December 14, 2024
What happens when the island prince no longer trusts his instincts, and makes an enemy of the one woman who can make him whole again?Welcome to San Camanez, a humble, peaceful little island in the Puget Sound and home to the McEvoy brothers. Four sexy single fathers—and one childless snack with a beard—who run a brewpub on the beach, raise their kids together, and hope to find love and happiness in the chaos that is life. This is Dom’s story …
Single Dad and bartender Dom McEvoy is a workaholic. Despite hardly seeing his kid, he doesn’t trust anybody else to run the restaurant. Not after what happened with his last hire. It’s just easier if he does it all himself. But when his brothers out-vote him and hire a new bartender—who is better than Dom at everything—his temper flares and he instantly wants her gone.
Chloe Voss knows she can’t keep running from the pain of her past. She’s been a nomad for too long. It’s time to set down some roots—even if they’re shallow. So when she gets the job offer at the McEvoy brothers’ restaurant, things finally look as if they’re falling into place. Too bad her boss hates her. Dom challenges her at every turn. He’s grumpy, unpredictable and cold. Whatever, it’s only a job.
Until it’s not.
Until these enemies turn into lovers and their unbridled attraction threatens to blow up the business.
When a winter storm ransacks the island, leaving Chloe abandoned and in danger, Dom will do whatever it takes to save her, even if that means putting his own life at risk.
Even though they were busy all day, and Dom really didn’t have time to think about Chloe, he still did. Endlessly.
Every time someone ordered a Caesar, he was instantly transported back to the cash room. Then his dick would twitch in his jeans, his heart would pound, and his fingers would tingle with the need to touch her.
Four o’clock could not come fast enough. Because then he’d get to see her again.
Would he be able to keep his hands to himself?
They agreed—after their third time—never again. They got it out of their system and needed to just be friends. It was too messy, too complicated, too wrong for them to continue
Only, she wasn’t out of his system at all. If anything, she was deeper under his skin than ever.
It was two thirty and the place had slowed down as it normally did until the dinner rush. Typically, one of the servers went home for a few hours, pulling a split shift, only to return later for the dinner hour. Today was Renée’s turn to disappear for a bit.
“You did well for you first shift,” she said to Logan, stashing her apron and grabbing her purse. “This wasn’t your first rodeo as a bartender, was it?”
Logan smiled big and wide. “No. I used to bartend at a night club back in Boston.”
Her cheeks colored up in a cute way. “Cool. Well … I guess I’ll see you later, Logan from Boston.”
If Logan had a tail, it would have been wagging. “See you later, Renée from …”
“Spokane,” she said, rivaling his big smile with an enormous one of her own as she backed away to the front door, all googly eyed.
“She’s cute,” Logan said, once Renée was gone. “What’s her deal?”
Dom shrugged. “No idea. She had a boyfriend a few weeks ago, but I haven’t heard her mention him in a while.”
“They broke up,” Jillian said, coming to stand in front of the POS machine.
Dom grunted.
“You know who you remind me of?” Jillian asked, addressing Dom. “Besides not having a British accent, you sound—and act—a lot like Roy Kent from Ted Lasso. The growling, the grunting, the husky voice. And the overall grumpy attitude.”
Logan nodded, his smile wide and goofy. “Oh my god. A hundred percent. You are the American version of Roy Kent.”
Dom had watched Ted Lasso and wasn’t inclined to agree. He growled and glared at the two young people, which only made them both chuckle.
He was about to roll his eyes when an idea popped into his head.
He didn’t want to wait until four o’clock to see Chloe. And although he knew they were trying to just be friends, maybe he needed to make a solid effort at being her friend. And friends helped each other, right? They had each other’s backs.
“You two okay here if I duck out for like an hour?” he asked. “I need to run a quick errand.”
Logan shrugged. “I think so. It’s pretty quiet.”
Jillian nodded and took sip of water from her glass with ice and lemon. “Totally. Go do what you need to do.”
Dom thanked them, then was through the swinging door and booking it to the back door of the kitchen, ignoring Wyatt’s probing gaze. The rain had stopped, but a heavy, damp mist hung in the air and the trees dripped as he speed-walked down the grassy path to Chloe’s cabin. Her car was parked in front of Cabin Four. Hopefully, that meant she was home.
He knocked quickly on the door before his nerves and rationale got the better of him.
Shuffling sounds echoed on the other side and a moment later it opened. Her eyes were more green than blue under the gray sky, and she cocked her head to the side. She’s also changed out of her yoga pants into jeans and her dark red hair hung in gentle waves over her shoulders.
“Have you gone to speak with Hawke yet?” he blurted out.
Her eyes widened. “No. Not yet.”
He jerked his head. “Come on. I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m completely capable of—”
“Friends help friends. And we’re friends, right?”
Also, he really just wanted to spend more time with her. Be around her.
“You really think we can just be friends?” Her lips twisted playfully, and all he could think about was those lips forming an “O” and wrapping around his cock.
“We have to at least try.” He shrugged, but his cock was already getting thick in his jeans, and if she didn’t close the door, he was going to shove her inside and bury his face between her thighs.
She hummed for a moment, considering it. Finally, she nodded and sighed, reaching for her purse on the couch, then following him off the porch. “I can drive.”
He didn’t care if they flew on the back of a giant seagull, he just wanted to be near her. The pull he had to this woman was driving him insane, and like a fool, he was choosing to feed his addiction, rather than kick it.
They slid into the seats of her little sedan, and she hit the start button.
The ride across the island to the hostel was quiet, but you could have cut the sexual tension with a freaking knife. His cock was also fully hard and ready to fuck by the time they reached the hostel.
They didn’t even have to go inside to find Hawke. The poor guy—who looked properly frazzled—was outside sweeping the pine needles and leaves off the porch with a straw broom.
When he saw that it was Chloe, regret instantly filled his amber eyes.
Every time someone ordered a Caesar, he was instantly transported back to the cash room. Then his dick would twitch in his jeans, his heart would pound, and his fingers would tingle with the need to touch her.
Four o’clock could not come fast enough. Because then he’d get to see her again.
Would he be able to keep his hands to himself?
They agreed—after their third time—never again. They got it out of their system and needed to just be friends. It was too messy, too complicated, too wrong for them to continue
Only, she wasn’t out of his system at all. If anything, she was deeper under his skin than ever.
It was two thirty and the place had slowed down as it normally did until the dinner rush. Typically, one of the servers went home for a few hours, pulling a split shift, only to return later for the dinner hour. Today was Renée’s turn to disappear for a bit.
“You did well for you first shift,” she said to Logan, stashing her apron and grabbing her purse. “This wasn’t your first rodeo as a bartender, was it?”
Logan smiled big and wide. “No. I used to bartend at a night club back in Boston.”
Her cheeks colored up in a cute way. “Cool. Well … I guess I’ll see you later, Logan from Boston.”
If Logan had a tail, it would have been wagging. “See you later, Renée from …”
“Spokane,” she said, rivaling his big smile with an enormous one of her own as she backed away to the front door, all googly eyed.
“She’s cute,” Logan said, once Renée was gone. “What’s her deal?”
Dom shrugged. “No idea. She had a boyfriend a few weeks ago, but I haven’t heard her mention him in a while.”
“They broke up,” Jillian said, coming to stand in front of the POS machine.
Dom grunted.
“You know who you remind me of?” Jillian asked, addressing Dom. “Besides not having a British accent, you sound—and act—a lot like Roy Kent from Ted Lasso. The growling, the grunting, the husky voice. And the overall grumpy attitude.”
Logan nodded, his smile wide and goofy. “Oh my god. A hundred percent. You are the American version of Roy Kent.”
Dom had watched Ted Lasso and wasn’t inclined to agree. He growled and glared at the two young people, which only made them both chuckle.
He was about to roll his eyes when an idea popped into his head.
He didn’t want to wait until four o’clock to see Chloe. And although he knew they were trying to just be friends, maybe he needed to make a solid effort at being her friend. And friends helped each other, right? They had each other’s backs.
“You two okay here if I duck out for like an hour?” he asked. “I need to run a quick errand.”
Logan shrugged. “I think so. It’s pretty quiet.”
Jillian nodded and took sip of water from her glass with ice and lemon. “Totally. Go do what you need to do.”
Dom thanked them, then was through the swinging door and booking it to the back door of the kitchen, ignoring Wyatt’s probing gaze. The rain had stopped, but a heavy, damp mist hung in the air and the trees dripped as he speed-walked down the grassy path to Chloe’s cabin. Her car was parked in front of Cabin Four. Hopefully, that meant she was home.
He knocked quickly on the door before his nerves and rationale got the better of him.
Shuffling sounds echoed on the other side and a moment later it opened. Her eyes were more green than blue under the gray sky, and she cocked her head to the side. She’s also changed out of her yoga pants into jeans and her dark red hair hung in gentle waves over her shoulders.
“Have you gone to speak with Hawke yet?” he blurted out.
Her eyes widened. “No. Not yet.”
He jerked his head. “Come on. I’ll go with you.”
“You don’t have to do that. I’m completely capable of—”
“Friends help friends. And we’re friends, right?”
Also, he really just wanted to spend more time with her. Be around her.
“You really think we can just be friends?” Her lips twisted playfully, and all he could think about was those lips forming an “O” and wrapping around his cock.
“We have to at least try.” He shrugged, but his cock was already getting thick in his jeans, and if she didn’t close the door, he was going to shove her inside and bury his face between her thighs.
She hummed for a moment, considering it. Finally, she nodded and sighed, reaching for her purse on the couch, then following him off the porch. “I can drive.”
He didn’t care if they flew on the back of a giant seagull, he just wanted to be near her. The pull he had to this woman was driving him insane, and like a fool, he was choosing to feed his addiction, rather than kick it.
They slid into the seats of her little sedan, and she hit the start button.
The ride across the island to the hostel was quiet, but you could have cut the sexual tension with a freaking knife. His cock was also fully hard and ready to fuck by the time they reached the hostel.
They didn’t even have to go inside to find Hawke. The poor guy—who looked properly frazzled—was outside sweeping the pine needles and leaves off the porch with a straw broom.
When he saw that it was Chloe, regret instantly filled his amber eyes.
A Canadian West Coast baby born and raised, Whitley is married to her high school sweetheart, and together they have two beautiful daughters and a fluffy dog. She spends her days making food that gets thrown on the floor, vacuuming Cheerios out from under the couch and making sure that the dog food doesn’t end up in the air conditioner. But when nap time comes, and it’s not quite wine o’clock, Whitley sits down, avoids the pile of laundry on the couch, and writes.
A lover of all things decadent; wine, cheese, chocolate and spicy erotic romance, Whitley brings the humorous side of sex, the ridiculous side of relationships and the suspense of everyday life into her stories. With single dads, firefighters, Navy SEALs, mommy wars, body issues, threesomes, bondage and role-playing, Whitley’s books have all the funny and fabulously filthy words you could hope for.
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