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Authors: Teresa Carpenter

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“You have a PhD in music and you're a hairdresser?”

“I burned out in music when I was young. I love it, but on my own terms. And I never had that luxury.”

The waiter arrived with plates of salmon served with polenta and roasted vegetables. She leaned back to give him access. The food smelled as good as it looked.

“Playing with the Michigan Philharmonic at the age of sixteen is pretty impressive.”

“Yes, and I don't regret it. But I wanted to dance and my mom shut me down every time I asked. At eighteen I came into a small inheritance from my father and I took off.”

“Where'd you go?”

“New York, of course. It's where dancers go. But it's expensive. And competitive. And I was so new to it. Thankfully, I met Alliyah.”

“And ended up in Las Vegas. You fought so hard to dance, why give it up now?”

She shook her head, poked at the fish. Dance would always be a part of her life. Except now it would only be a form of exercise. She still struggled with the change.

“Dancing is considered high-risk employment because contracts can be limited in term and there's the chance of injury. Plus, most of the work is at night. So it's not a good job for a single woman looking to adopt. I have to agree with the last. If I get custody of Jazi, I want to be there for her. As a hairdresser, I can adjust my hours so I can spend part of every day with her.”

She laid down her fork and leaned across the table. “Thank you for listening to me last night. Thank you for considering my request.”

Eyes on hers, he shook his head, the dim light playing over his dark hair. “Don't get ahead of yourself, Ms. Malone. We don't even know if there's anything to thank me for yet. If I have my wish, there won't be.”

Her heart hiccupped at his declaration. Everything she longed for would turn his world upside down. Impulsively she reached across the table and laid her hand on his. “I'll still say thank you because you've given me something I haven't had in a long time. Hope.”

* * *

“Good morning.” Clay strolled through Jethro's open office door. He carried a manila envelope in one hand.

Jethro nodded for Clay to close the door and then he tossed his pen on his desk and leaned back in his chair. This better be the test results.

His nerves were so frayed he couldn't concentrate. He'd been a beast all morning. His staff mutinied twenty minutes ago and left en masse for an extended coffee break. He'd be lucky if he saw them before lunch. Nothing got in the way of work, but before she left he finally gave in and had his assistant clear his schedule for the day.

“I heard hell froze over up here.” Clay dropped into one of the black leather visitor chairs. “I had to come check it out.”

“You'll get a front-row seat if those aren't the test results. I'm about to gnaw off my own thumbs.”

“These things take time. I had the lab run the tests twice, just to be sure.” Clay held out the envelope. “Fresh off the printer.”

“And?” Jethro took the envelope, set it in front of him. He'd look at the reports when he was alone.

Clay didn't leave him dangling. “And congratulations, Daddy.”

Jethro narrowed his eyes in a glare.

Clay just grinned. “It had to be said. This is a big deal. And if you have your way, it'll never happen again.”

“It's for the best.”

“Is it?”

A brief knock sounded at the door and then it opened and Jackson Hawke and Ryan Green walked in.

“You don't look dead,” Jackson remarked as he settled into the second visitor's chair.

“No, but he's definitely pale. Pasty actually.” Ryan perched on the edge of the credenza in front of the window. “He could be dying.”

“Ha-ha.” Jethro rolled his shoulders. “I'm fine.”

“He's not fine.”

Jethro glared at the security executive. “I am fine. I just have something to deal with.”

He hadn't meant to tell them all, a foolish assumption. They were almost as bad as a pack of women when it came to ferreting out information about each other. And he'd need Ryan's help with the contract and adoption. No need to keep Jackson in the dark when everyone else knew.

Bottom line, he struggled with the secret he already had; no way was he harnessing himself with another one. He fought the urge to pace. The tension in his shoulders was so tight he feared the smallest move might break a bone. His friends looked at him expectantly, their silence a deafening demand. He cleared his throat. Almost wishing Clay would blurt it out saving Jethro from having to say the words.

As if reading his thoughts Clay lifted one brown brow in question.

Jethro shook him off with a minute shake of his head.

“It turns out.” Another clearing of his throat. “I have a daughter.”

With the words spoken something miraculous happened. Tension drained out of his shoulders and air flowed freely into his lungs. He hadn't even noticed the shallow breaths he'd been taking. Sharing eased some of his pent-up nerves. Not all by any means, but at least he could think again.

“A daughter.” Jackson raked a hand through his hair. “No wonder you're freaking.” Sympathy shone out of green eyes. He alone knew Jethro's secret.

Still, freaking was a bit strong.

“Does this mean we get to call you Daddy?” Ryan grinned.

Jethro's heart accelerated and tension racketed back into his shoulders. Okay, freaking summed it up nicely.

“I won't be raising her,” he announced and filled them in on the details. “She's better off with someone who loves her,” he finished.

“That's a tough decision.” All amusement had vanished from Ryan's strong features. “I'm not sure I could walk away.”

“You all know how rotten I am at relationships. I wouldn't begin to know how to raise a little girl. I'm doing what's best for her.”

“You're not alone, dude,” Ryan reminded him. “Four men and a baby. We could make it work.”

“Don't forget Grace and Sierra.” Jackson tossed his fiancée and assistant into the mix. “They say it takes a village. Well, we are a village.”

A lump formed in Jethro's throat. The unhesitating support amazed and humbled him. He shouldn't be surprised, but he was. It made him stop, made him think. But...

“Thank you, my brothers. Seriously, I love you for offering.” The words were rusty yet heartfelt. “But it wouldn't be fair to shake up your lives because of an unexpected development in mine. Not when there's an acceptable alternative.”

He had nothing of value to offer an innocent child. He was damaged, with no idea how to manage a lasting relationship. Not even his mother had wanted him. She'd tossed him away like yesterday's leftovers.

He'd been found in a Dumpster when he was three weeks old half-starved and suffering from exposure. Lucky to be alive. He sometimes wondered if anyone actually believed that.

Infants usually adopted quickly. But the exposure had damaged his lungs and stomach so he'd been a sickly child. No one wanted to adopt a sick baby.

He'd learned his history when he was six from a foster mother upset because he'd thrown up on her new shoes. He was quickly removed from the home. But how do you get over knowing no one wanted you? Not even your mom. He got moved around a lot after that. His ailments went away, but they said he began acting out, became a problem child.

No. He'd just been trying to prove he was the biggest, the best, the smartest. That he mattered. Even after thirty-five years, he was still trying to prove it.

Talk about dysfunctional. So no, it was best if he were not made responsible for the care and feeding of a toddler. Even if she was the only family he'd ever know. He'd been told, more than once, that he was self-absorbed, but not ever he was that selfish.

Jasmine deserved someone who fought for her, someone who skipped to watch a fake thunderstorm then watched the show with childlike wonder. Someone who spoke to strangers and thought up ways to pamper new mothers.

Of one thing he was certain, life with Lexi would be filled with light, laughter and joy. She'd make every day an adventure of music and dance. Unlike him. His life revolved around work and numbers, boring, steady, reliable numbers, which suited him fine, but hardly rated against the musical arts.

Lexi would cherish Jasmine and that was the best gift Jethro could ever give her.

“Well, if that's decided,” Clay glanced at his watch, “I made arrangements for you to see her this morning.”

Jackson and Ryan looked at each other and then at Jethro.

“Do you think that's wise?” Jackson asked.

“Probably not.” Jethro slid the manila envelope into his top desk drawer and closed it. “But it's something I have to do.”

At least once he needed to hold his daughter in his arms.

CHAPTER FIVE

L
EXI
OPENED
THE
GATE
and walked up the path toward the door of a two-story house. Before she got to the porch, the door opened and a slightly plump blonde waved.

“Hi, Lexi.” She stepped aside and a wild-haired child shot out the door and down the shallow step. “She's excited to see you.”

“Lexi!” Jazi called out as she raced as fast as her little legs allowed down the walk.

Lexi's heart overflowed with love and she went down on her knees to catch the tiny fireball when she launched herself into Lexi's arms.

“Lexi!” Little arms wrapped around her neck and soft lips smeared something sticky across her cheek.

“Jazi.” Lexi returned the smooches, hugging the baby close for a long minute. “I've missed you so much.”

“Miss you.” Jazi repeated. She framed Lexi's face in her hands and demanded, “Home.”

Lexi's heart wrenched. “I know, baby girl. I'm working on it.” She turned her attention to Jazi's foster mom, who had to stay within sight of her during the visit. “Hi, Diana, how are you?”

The court had granted Lexi supervised visitation. She'd argued, but in the end, she'd taken what she could get.

“Fine. But it's turning into a busy day. This little one is quite popular today. I know you like to play with her outside, but can you come inside? I want to do a little more straightening up.”

At first Jazi's foster mother had been reserved with Lexi, almost cold. She'd probably been told Lexi had tried to circumvent the system. But as time went by and she saw Jazi's affection for Lexi, she'd loosened up.

“Diana, your place always looks great, but sure.” Lexi followed the other woman inside to the family room. “Why don't you find us a book to read?” she told Jazi as she settled on the love seat. What did company for Jazi mean? Caseworker visits were usually impromptu, so it wasn't that. “Who is coming to see Jazi?”

Diana glanced over to where Jazi pawed through the bookshelf. Keeping her voice low she said, “Her father. The caseworker called me this morning and said someone came forward.”

“Really?” Adrenaline spiked Lexi's heartbeat. Jethro. It had to be.

“Yes. They did the tests and he is her father. He asked if he could see her this morning.”

“Fishies.” Jazi dropped a book in Lexi's lap.

“Oh, yeah, let's look at the pretty fishies.” Lexi opened the book and mindlessly pointed at the colorful fish. Thankfully Jazi just liked to look at the pictures and flip the pages so she didn't notice her godmother had suddenly gone brainless.

Her hands shook on the stiff pages.
Angels above
she prayed this was good news and not Jethro deciding to raise Jazi himself. It was her biggest fear. Because, seriously who could resist that joyful smile?

“This is exciting, right?” Diana sat down on the matching striped couch. “I know you were seeking custody. But it's good that she'll be with her father.” She mouthed the last word.

“I hope so.”

Diana nodded. “It's always a concern, isn't it, putting a child in an unknown situation?”

“Yes.” Lexi looked down at the book unable to take the sympathy in the older woman's eyes.

The doorbell rang. For a moment she and Diana locked gazes.

Jazi just took off for the door. She loved company.

“No, Jazi.” Diana caught her and brought her back to Lexi.

“Should I go?” Lexi asked.

Diana shrugged. “It's okay with me if you stay. We'll see what they say.”

Lexi's heart lodged in her throat. She wanted to believe in Jethro, but the man didn't help build a multibillion-dollar company without having a ruthless streak.

She lifted Jazi into her lap and gave her a squeeze before redirecting her attention to the book. If these were the last minutes Lexi ever had with her goddaughter, she'd make them count. “One little fishy, two little fishy.”

* * *

“You have reached your destination.” Jethro parked his car across the street from a two-story house in a nice middle-class neighborhood. A pretty redhead with a skip in her step opened the gate and started up the walk.

Surprise shook him, along with a healthy dose of desire.

She moved as if she had a constant strain of music running through her head.

Something he understood better now he knew she was a music prodigy.

“The caseworker is meeting us here.” Clay reached for his door latch. “That's probably her.”

“Hold on.” Jethro laid a staying hand on his arm. “That's Lexi Malone. What's she doing here?”

“She has supervised visitation rights.”

“Supervised.” Jethro watched as the door to the house opened and a blonde woman greeted Lexi. And then a tiny bit of a girl dashed past the woman and flew down the walk to throw herself into Lexi's arms. It was almost painful to watch as the two clung together. “Did you find out the full details of why they've refused Lexi custody? Lexi hinted to me that it has a lot to do with her single status and being able to adequately provide for her, but I get the feeling there might be more to it.”

“I'm still working on it.” Clay's phone buzzed. “This might be something now.” He took the call.

Jethro tuned him out as he watched the scene in the yard until the three disappeared inside. He'd never exchanged a greeting with such intensity in his life. It was an honest, unrehearsed demonstration of love and affection and reinforced his decision. It would be criminal to separate the two.

“I've got the information.” Clay tucked his phone away.

“What?”

“The reason they won't allow Lexi custody is partly because of what she told you, that she's a single parent in high-risk employment that requires her to be away from the home at night. But she has a black mark against her because she kept Jasmine without proper authority.”

Jethro relaxed. “Red tape. She changed her employment. And I'm sure she was only doing what she thought best in caring for Jasmine after Alliyah's accident,” he pointed out.

“That was mentioned, but she has no recent employment history as a cosmetologist so that actually worked against her.”

“Tough luck for her.” Especially after the heartfelt exchange he just witnessed.

“Her story holds up,” Clay stated. “But she could still be playing an angle.”

A dark car pulled to the curb and parked, blocking his view of the house. A plump woman in a gray suit that matched her hair climbed from the car.

“That's likely the social worker. So what are you going to do?” Clay repeated. “Are you changing your mind? Are you going to leave Jasmine in foster care?”

“No way.” Jethro opened his car door and stepped out. With Clay at his side he crossed the street. “I'd keep her myself before I let her stay in the system.”

* * *

Lexi held her breath as Mrs. Leslie walked in followed by Jethro and a large blond man. If they were here then the blood tests must have come back.

Jasmine was his daughter.

“Lexi.” Mrs. Leslie greeted her with a smile. “I didn't expect you to be here.” Then the smile dimmed as the awkwardness of the moment hit the social worker.

Lexi liked the woman—she reminded Lexi of Mrs. Claus, always cheerful and looking on the bright side of things. Qualities that had to be difficult considering her profession.

“We made arrangements for the visit yesterday.” She stood and set Jazi down. “But I should go. Let Mr. Calder have his visit.”

The little girl made a stark cry and lifted her arms to be held. Even the toddler felt the tension in the room. Lexi lifted her into her arms. Jazi laid her head on Lexi's shoulder and eyed the men suspiciously.

“Perhaps it would be best if you continued your visit at another time.” Mrs. Leslie didn't bother with introductions. “We do have some business to conduct today.”

“Of course.” Carefully avoiding Jethro's gaze, Lexi stood and tried to hand Jazi off to her foster mother, but the baby shook her head and clung to Lexi. “It's okay, pumpkin. I'll see you another day. Be a good girl and go to Diana.”

“No.” Jazi was having none of it. “Jab-da, Lexi!” For all it was gibberish the sentiment was clear. She wanted Lexi. When Lexi tried to pull her little arms from around her neck, Jazi began to cry.

Matching tears blurred Lexi's vision. Leaving Jazi like this was breaking her heart.

“I don't mind if Ms. Malone stays.” Jethro broke the tension-fraught moment. “If it makes it easier on the child.”

Mrs. Leslie visibly relaxed. “Thank you, Mr. Calder. I do feel it's for the best. Jasmine is still emotionally fragile. I believe Ms. Malone will be a calming influence for your visit.”

“I'll be in the kitchen if you need me.” Diana made her escape.

Lexi resumed her seat and rocked Jazi gently. “You're my big girl, my brave girl. You like Mrs. Leslie. And these nice men just want to say hello. Come on, pumpkin,” she tickled her ribs, “give me a smile.”

The corner of Jazi's mouth twitched up, but she still snuggled close.

“That's my big girl. Everything is going to be all right,” Lexi whispered, needing the reassurance as much as Jazi. “I love you.”

Mrs. Leslie settled into the corner of the couch and waved Jethro toward the love seat where Lexi sat with Jasmine. “Perhaps you'd like to tell me how you know Ms. Malone.”

Jethro's gaze circled the room seeking another seat, but his associate, whom Lexi recognized as Clay Hoffman, dropped into the corner opposite Mrs. Leslie, which left a seat squeezed between the two of them or next to Lexi. He met her stare before sitting. His features were unreadable, leaving Lexi wondering how much he'd reveal to the caseworker.

When he sat down, the roomy sectional suddenly became a tight fit. She tried to move over to give him space—and her some distance—but he just filled in the area she created. From shoulder to knees they were pressed up against each other.

Yeah, this was comfortable.

“It was Ms. Malone who told me of Jasmine. I wasn't aware of her existence until Ms. Malone brought her to my attention.”

“Really?” Mrs. Leslie sent Lexi a chiding look. “If you had information regarding Jasmine, you should have given the knowledge to Child Protective Services to investigate.”

“Yes, well, it was more a hunch than anything else.” Lexi noticed he'd made no mention of giving her custody.

“Hmm.” Mrs. Leslie didn't sound convinced but she chose not to pursue it. She smiled and suggested, “Shall we get this visit on the way. Lexi, would you like to make the introductions?”

Drawing in a deep breath, she let it out slowly. Rubbing Jazi's back in soothing strokes, she told her softly, “Jazi, this is Mr. Calder. He wants to say hi. Can you say hello?”

Jazi had her head turned away from Jethro and for a moment she didn't move.

“Please.” Lexi insisted.

Jazi gave him a quick peak and looked away again.

“See, he's a nice man.” Lexi continued to pet her back. To Jethro she mouthed, “Smile!”

He notched a brow at her but nodded.

Okay, what did she reveal? She hadn't planned to be the one explaining this to Jazi. She didn't want to build Jethro up as Daddy to the rescue because—hopefully—he wasn't going to be sticking around. But she really didn't want to advertise their arrangement either.

“Mr. Calder knew your mama.” Best to keep it simple.

The toddler sat up and blinked at Lexi. “Mama?”

“Yes.” Just as she hoped Jazi snagged on the mention of her mother. “He and Mama were friends. And he wants to meet you. Can you say hi?”

She looked at him from the corner of her dark blue eyes. The glance lasted longer than the last one but she still shook her head.

“Okay, we'll get to know him better first.” Lexi swept Jazi up and turned her sideways in her lap so Jazi faced Jethro. “Lexi likes him.” Lexi laid her head on his shoulder to show her acceptance.

He smiled. Okay it was a little thin, but he'd made the effort.

“What is your favorite color?” she asked him.

“Blue.”

So he was keeping it simple. Probably for the best. “My favorite color is green and Jazi's is—”

“Pink?” he guessed.

“Nope. It's yellow, like her skirt.” Lexi tugged at the hem of the white-and-yellow skirt.

“Yellow,” Jazi confirmed with a nod.

“What next?” Lexi mused. “When is your birthday?”

Something dark flashed through his eyes, but was quickly gone. He cleared his throat. “May.”

No day given, interesting. “Jazi's is in November.”

“What else do you want to know, Jazi?”

“Doggy?” Jazi whispered to Lexi.

“Ah, good question. She wants to know if you have a dog.”

He shook his head. “No doggy.”

Jazi's little brown eyebrows puckered.

“Do you have any animals?” Lexi asked.

She saw the frantic wish to say yes enter his eyes even as he began to shake his head. “No. No pets.”

“He has fish.” Clay spoke up and nodded to the storybook on the coffee table in front of Lexi and Jazi.

Jethro's eyes lit up. “Yes, I have fish.” He picked up the book. “Do you like fish?”

Jazi nodded and pointed at the book. “Fishies!”

“I like colorful fishies.” He absently flipped the pages in the book. “I have some that are blue and yellow and orange and red.”

“Pretty.” Jazi climbed into his lap and began to turn the pages and point at the fish.

Jethro froze. Lexi felt his whole body go still. But he didn't panic. His hold gentle, his voice soft, he hoisted Jazi to a more secure position and began reading the book. Of course she was more interested in flipping the pages to the ones she liked, but he soon adapted and began pointing out fun things on the pages she stopped on.

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