“Da-dah, da-dah, dah!” An ear-splitting squeal accompanied by a wet smack to the face wakes me instantly. I sit up, hands flying to the squirrely bundle sitting on my chest.

“Sweet baby Jesus!” I gasp and grip on to Cora’s little body.

“Da-dah!” Cora head-butts me as I grab her and pull her farther up my bare chest so I can see her better.

“Hey, baby girl. What are you doing in here?” I coo at my little girl. My little girl. It’s all so foreign but becoming more familiar with every passing day. I’ve been a dad for a solid week, and as hard as it’s been, it’s also been the most rewarding and fulfilling experience of my life. The only thing missing is the woman I want by my side while I experience it.

“She wouldn’t stop saying your name, and she’s been up for two hours already. You slept a lot later than normal, so I figured it would be okay. I hope we didn’t intrude.” Misty’s voice comes from the chair opposite my bed.

I glance over at her, and she’s leaning against the chair in a purple cotton robe with white lace around the edges that falls mid-thigh. The robe is open, giving me a perfect view of her braless breasts and tight matching nightgown. Misty toys with the string that should be tied across her waist. She walks toward the bed slow and panther-like. I hold on to Cora and snuggle her neck, my eyes still on her mother. Once she gets to my bed, she leans her bare thigh against the edge.

“Uh, I was up till three last night, working.” My voice is still morning-thick and gravelly.

Misty fluffs her hair. “Oh, it’s no problem. I made breakfast and kept it warm for you. A big man like you needs to eat.” She runs her fingertips across the mounds of her breasts and smiles softly.

The hairs on the back of my neck start to tingle, but I shake it off. She’s just being nice.

“Um, okay. That’s nice of you. Thank you.” I lift Cora, hold her against me, and scoot to the edge of the bed. Thank God I didn’t crash naked last night. Since I’ve had guests, I’ve been wearing pajama bottoms. Not the most comfortable, but it seems appropriate, given that I’ve got two women in my house.

“Anything to help. You’ve been so good to Cora and me. I just want to return the favor any way I can.”

I stand up and cuddle my daughter close. Misty places a hand to my bare chest and gets closer than I expect. I can smell her flowery perfume and clean scent overpowering my baby girl’s sweet smell.

“You know you can count on me for anything you need, right?” Her fingers flutter against my breast bone before she lets them slide down the expanse of my chest to my waist, where she curls a hand around the skin there. “A man has needs. And like before, I’m more than willing to satisfy those needs. In fact, I’d love to.”

When she licks her lips and her pupils dilate, I shift our daughter in front of her and step back. “That won’t be necessary. I’m never going to take advantage of you, Misty. We’re strangers, I get that. Just because you’re down on your luck doesn’t mean you need to offer anything in return. I take care of what’s mine, and Cora is my daughter. She will have all that the Davis name holds, but you never owe anything in return. You get me?”

I know my facial features turn hard, because I can feel the pressure in my brow intensifying from how hard I’m frowning.

“Um…I, uh, yeah. I get you. Just, I’m here and happy to be here. With you. As a family.”

A family.

Fuck. The one thing I’d always wanted in life, my own family. Now I’ve got it, but it’s with the wrong woman.

“I’ll just go make sure your breakfast is ready to eat,” she says in a rush and turns around, her robe flaring behind her as she goes.

Cora twists her fingers in my hair and tugs.

“Ouch! Baby girl.” I laugh and she giggles. “What are we going to do about your mommy?”

“Da-dah!” She smacks my face, leans forward, and lays a sloppy openmouthed kiss right on my mouth, and then moves to my chin and sucks on it.

I squint through the tickling and wetness, even though it warms my heart how quickly Cora has taken to me. It’s as though she’s never been without her dad, and vice versa. I can’t wait until Kat gets to spend time with her. She’ll fall instantly in love just like I did. Kat loves her nieces and nephew from Bree and Gillian. “I just know she’s going to love you too, baby girl. And teach you how to sew and make you tons of pretty dresses.”

One problem being I have to tell her first. How the hell am I going to tell her that when we broke it off for good, I fucked a woman and got her pregnant, only to find out two years later I’d fathered a child? Maybe I can just thrust Cora into her arms and let Cora win her over.

“That’s a good idea. You want to meet Daddy’s special friend? She’s the only other woman I love besides you, baby girl. One day you’ll meet my Kathleen, and the two of you will be the best of friends.”

I take Cora over to my closet and set her on the floor to mess up my shoes, currently all lined up. If there is anything I’ve learned about my daughter in a week, it’s if something is in order, she’s going to disrupt that order at the speed of light.

As I pull out a T-shirt, she’s already got two pairs of shoes off the rack and tossed them on the floor. I shake my head and smile at my girl. She may be a handful, but she’s mine.

Once I’m dressed, I scoop her up and take her to the patio. When we go into the kitchen, Misty’s already got my breakfast on a serving tray and is heading toward the slider.

“Wow.”

She bustles over to the patio table and sets out my meal. A cup of steaming coffee is sitting next to a plate loaded with an omelet stuffed full of veggies and what looks to be bacon, fruit, and a side of toast.

“Thank you.”

“I know how you like to eat right away when you wake up.” She beams and pulls out my chair.

I sit down and put Cora on my left knee so I can eat with my right hand. She immediately grabs for the coffee cup, which I move out of her grasp and exchange with a piece of toast. The toast goes right to her mouth, where she licks and gnaws, making cute little “mmm” sounds.

“Thank you. This is unbelievable.” I’m talking around a bite of omelet. The egg, spinach, and cheese topped with perfectly cooked crispy bacon is a taste sensation. “You really are a good cook!” I say, happily sipping my coffee.

“I want to make you happy,” Misty says and smiles, watching me eat. It’s strange and sweet at the same time. I don’t always know what to make of Misty and the things she says and does. We’re still getting used to sharing space, but so far it’s been amazing. She loves to cook and does a great job of it. Our daughter is happy and healthy. But most important, they are safe and sound where I can keep an eye on them.

“While we’re both here, I have something I want to talk to you about.” I shift Cora and wipe at the crumbs that have fallen on my pajama pants. Good thing we’re eating outside. No additional mess.

Another thing I never planned for. Kids are messy. Seriously fucking messy. Though Misty has made sure to keep the house spic and span, even going so far as to do my laundry. The only reason I know that is because my housekeeper complained there wasn’t much for her to do.

Misty frowns. “What’s on your mind?”

“Well, two things. But more importantly, the issue of Cora and her name.”

“You don’t like the name Cora?” Her hand flies to her chest, as if she’s been struck with an arrow.

I laugh and put my hand over hers. She grips on to it as though I might turn weightless at any moment and fly away.

“I love the name Cora. You can’t understand how much I appreciate that her name starts with a C. It’s a tradition in the Davis family.”

Her corresponding smile to my statement makes me realize just how sensitive she is. I need to use kid gloves with her, more so than I thought.

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I want her to have the Davis name. Are you okay with me starting the paperwork with my attorney to have her name legally changed from Duncan to Davis?”

Misty beams. A full-on, no-holds-barred, all-gums smile. “That would be amazing!” Awe fills each word.

I’m not sure why she’s so excited, but I’m thrilled this request isn’t a battle. Then she grabs Cora’s hand. “See sweetheart, your daddy loves you so much already. He wants to give you his name. Maybe one day I’ll be so lucky.”

Um, wait, what did she just say? Before I can ask, she stands up and grabs my coffee cup.

“Daddy needs a refill.” Misty pops up, cup in hand. She practically skips when she goes into the house.

I spend a few moments staring out at the ocean and making sure Cora doesn’t choke on her toast. “I’m not quite sure what just happened here. Regardless, I’m going to focus on the fact that I get to make you a Davis, baby girl. You want that?” I turn her around, lift her up, and hold her above me. She smiles and squeals with delight.

“Dah-da!” She smashes her buttery, saliva-soaked hand against my nose. “Dah-da!”

I laugh and kiss her chubby grubby cheeks. “That’s right. I’m your daddy, and soon the whole entire world will know you’re my daughter. Cora Davis. It has a beautiful ring to it, don’t you think?”

“I, for one, do!” Misty says, setting down my cup. “What was the other thing you wanted to tell me, Carson?”

Misty is all smiles, soft touches, and eyelash flutters. Again, against my better judgment, I shake it off to get down to business. “I have a job for you.”

Her face lights up once again. “Really? Already?”

“Well, it won’t start for a couple weeks, and only if you think it will be a good fit. But my father, Charles Davis, has a personal assistant who is retiring.”

“I’ll take it,” she says instantly.

“You don’t even know what it involves.” I frown.

“If you say it’s a good job for me, I trust you. You’re the man of the house. You take care of what’s yours, isn’t that right?”

“Well…uh, yeah, but Misty, you’re not mi—”

“And it will give me a better opportunity to get to know Cora’s grandfather.” She claps her hands in front of her chest. “Goodie goodie gumdrop. This is going to be so great! Me working for your dad, helping out the Davis family.” Misty stands up holding her hands like a trophy in front of her chest. “You are too good to be true, Carson Davis. More than we ever could have dreamed!” She places her hands on both sides of my cheeks and smashes her lips on mine.

Before I can pull away, she’s licking and kissing my lips. Her mouth comes at mine like a face-sucking hoover. While trying to hold Cora and not fall out of my chair, I attempt to push her back. She takes the gesture as a move to pull closer. I try to push my head back and tell her to stop, but the second I get an inch of space and open my mouth to tell her to stop, her tongue is inside my mouth and she’s kissing the daylights out of me.

Just as I get my bearings, she pulls off, jumps up and down. “This is so exciting! I can’t wait. I’ll have to get new work clothes. But I’ll pay you back out of my first check!” She’s running her mouth a mile a minute. I can’t get a word in edgewise.

“That’s not necessary. Of course, I’m happy to provide for you—”

“Because you’re the best man a girl could ever have. You hear that, Cora? Daddy got Mommy a big new job. Now we’ll both be contributing to the family!” She spins on her toe in a circle, her robe coming open again, flashing me a lot more cleavage than I needed to see.

I close my eyes. “Maybe you should get dressed now.”

She stops in her tracks and smirks. “Oh, I see how it is. You don’t want anyone else seeing what’s yours. I get it.” She closes her robe tight and beats feet to the slider door.

“No, that’s not it at all…” But it’s too late. She’s in the house and down the hall to her room.

“What just happened with your mommy, baby girl?”

“Ma-ma!” she says. She shoves a handful of bacon and eggs into her mouth.

“Shit! Are you allowed to have bacon?”

I watch carefully as she chews her big bite. Fear slithers from the base of my spine and up my back as I watch my child swallow. Sweat prickles against my forehead, and I hold my breath. Finally, Cora smiles and grabs for another handful of eggs.

“Oh, no, you don’t, you little sneaky sneak! How’s about we hit the ocean? I feel the need to connect to the elements and wash off this strange morning. You with me?”

“Wa wa!” She points at the ocean.

“Water is right.” I smile. She’s so smart already. I wonder if her vocabulary is further along than the average kid. I’ll have to do some research or ask Chase about it. The man seems to be a damn know-it-all when it comes to all things kid related. Punk.

I stand up and take the stairs down past the pool and to our private beach. The second I get to the sand, Cora wants down. I let her down but stay really close, keeping an eye on the water and how quickly the waves come in and out.

She plants her butt in the wet sand far enough back she shouldn’t get hit by any waves and shoves her hands right into the earth.

“Good idea, baby girl. Let’s build a sandcastle.” If anything is going to get my mind off what I have to do tonight with Kat and the weird things Misty said today, it’s building a sandcastle for the first time with my daughter.

---

Kathleen is a vision when she opens the door. Her golden hair shines in the track lighting over her foyer, and she bites into her lip seductively. Jesus Christ, those plump pink lips. I lose it right then and there. Before she can even speak, I push my way into her apartment, kick the door shut with my heel, and pull her into my arms. My mouth is on hers, and all I can think about right then is home. She is home. Her sunshine-and-coconut scent soothes the raging nerves I’ve been carrying around with me all week. She dips her head to the side and opens her mouth enough so I can playfully lick at her tongue and teeth. The little groan of frustration she gives me when I don’t deepen the kiss makes me smile against her mouth. I pull away just enough to sink my nose against her shoulder and neck to inhale her goodness and light for several seconds. This. It’s everything. She is my peace, my serenity. The calm after the storm. I hadn’t realized how stressed and ravaged my soul felt until just now. Being in her arms, having her essence surround me, soothes all that ails the beast within.

“God, I’ve missed you.” I let out all the air in my lungs, holding her close, molding my form to hers.

Her hands run up and down my back in a loving caress. “I missed you more.”

I smile and nibble on the smooth skin of her shoulder and neck. It’s not the usual side I go for, but I’m trying to connect with the side of her she’s comfortable with. When I get too close to the scars, she freezes up, and I don’t want that for her or me. Right now, having her freeze up on me would destroy me. As it is, a week has been too long after what happened between us last Friday.

Kat runs her hands up my back once more until she tunnels her fingers through my hair, scraping her nails lightly against my scalp. She pulls far enough back she can make eye contact. “What’s the matter, Carson? This isn’t like you.”

Without meaning to, the smart-ass remark flies out of my mouth unchecked. “And how would you know? It’s been years, Kat.”

Her entire body stiffens briefly, but she holds on. She doesn’t let go, push back, or run away. Now that is a first and entirely unlike her.

She closes her eyes and sighs. “I guess I deserved that.”

Hating I’ve hurt her—again—and knowing I’m about to hurt her more has put me on edge. “No, baby. I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. There’s just a lot going on. Things have happened in the years we’ve been apart. Some of those things are not going to be easy to talk about.”

Finally, I push back and move away from her first. I turn around and see the table already set, candles lit, fresh flowers adorning the table. A bottle of wine and glasses are already set out, the wine uncorked and breathing.

“Shit.” I shake my head. “You’ve made a romantic dinner for two, and I was being a selfish asshole.” I grind my teeth and fist my hands at my sides. I don’t know how to start this conversation, and it’s eating me alive. Nevertheless, she’s still my Kathleen, and she’s gone to a lot of trouble to make me a meal. “Let’s sit and eat what you’ve cooked up.”

A soft smile lifts the bit of sadness weighing down the initial joy I’d seen in her face when I arrived. “I made your favorite. Lasagna.” She walks over to the table and pulls out a chair at the head. “Sit.”

I sniff the air and am assaulted by the mix of oregano, basil, fresh sauce, and garlic. My mouth waters and my belly rumbles. “Damn, it smells so good in here. Almost as good as you.” I wink.

She chuckles and her cheeks redden as she flits to the kitchen. The apartment has a roomy, open-layout feel to it. Her cabinets are bright white with glass insets and backlighting to show her dishes. The countertops are a cool gray with specks of gold, black, and glittery-looking rocks running through them. Top of the line for sure. Of course, I wouldn’t expect anything less in one of my cousin’s buildings.

I look around at her apartment—really look—not like last time, when I had her up against the door and then in bed, before I had to jet off in the morning. I realize how little this place suits her. Sure, she has it filled to the brim with knickknacks, framed photos, original art, comfy pillows in various earthy tones, but it lacks something I was once used to seeing. Against one corner, she has a desk full of loose drawings, fabric swatches, and books on various designers and fashion trends. That’s pretty standard. Another area has a large dark-purple couch, a replacement for the beat-up one she used to have when we dated. Actually, a lot of what she had when we were together is missing from the room, including from her bedroom, now that I think about it. When I was lying with her, nothing in the room around us felt the same as it did in the past.

Then it dawns on me. She’d gotten rid of almost everything she had in her apartment from before. The art hanging on the walls is different, the furniture, the pictures scattered around the room don’t contain any of us together. The photos are all of her soul sisters and their children. Even trinkets, things I’d given her during our year together, were missing in action. It was the strangest thing. As I surveyed the room, looking for a scrap of the woman I fell in love with three years ago, I couldn’t find her. It’s as if she didn’t even live here. Like she up and left. Walked out.

That’s when it hit me like a punch to the heart. She’d removed anything remotely related to me and who we were together.

And I thought her kicking me out that night three years ago hurt. But this… Finding out she willingly, painstakingly removed every trace of what we had together, of me, from her life… Gutted. There’s nothing else to describe the moment when a man realizes the woman he loved, still loves, has moved on so completely there isn’t a trace left. And now I’ve opened a small window back into her heart and her life, and I’m going to break her all over again. She’ll go right back to living without me, without us. She’s done it for three years. What’s to say she can’t or won’t do it again? And it’ll be even easier this time since we only have one night to go on.

Fuck.

I can’t tell her about Cora and Misty. Not yet. I need more time. More time to get her to fall completely and utterly in love with me again, or I’ll lose her forever. A person only gets a second chance once. This is mine, and I’m not going to ruin it before I’ve even had a real shot. No way.

Kat comes back into the room with big red mitts on and a glass casserole tray that smells like virtue and sin mixed together with noodles and cheese.

She sets the dish down, removes the mitts, and pours the wine. Her left hand is a bit shaky, but for all intents and purposes, she’s adjusted well to not having full use of her right hand, her more dominant hand.

“Thank you.”

She sits and lifts her glass. “So, what should we toast to?” Her pretty brown eyes are swirling with excitement and a hint of mischief.

“There’s nothing more important than us.” And an eighteen-month-old toddler with my blue eyes and a penchant for destroying order at every possible opportunity. Kind of like what could happen if my secret comes out too soon. I keep that last part to myself and clink glasses.

We both take a sip, and Kat hums. It reminds me of how Cora makes “mmm” and “oohh” sounds while she eats, as if every meal is a surprise.

Kat dishes out the lasagna and salad, and I dig in, not sure how to go about winning her back and keeping her in my life in such a way the devastating hit of my family-man status won’t hurt so bad.

“So, tell me what you’ve been dealing with this past week that’s kept you from being with me?”

The question hits like a hammer, so hard a chunk of lasagna slides down the wrong pipe, making me gag and choke. I suck down a huge swallow of wine, which burns like acid against the tender tissue. Serves me right for lying.

Instead of admitting the whole truth and hoping she can understand, I stick to my guns and discreetly change the subject by grabbing her right hand—the scarred one I know she doesn’t prefer to have touched—and run my fingers along the top.

“How’s about you tell me what you’ve been up to the past two years. Let’s start at the beginning and work our way up to the present.” Please God, let her buy it. A pang of guilt pierces my heart, and I rub at my chest with the hand not holding hers.

She watches the move, her shrewd mind probably picking up that I’ve changed the subject. Just when I think she’s going to nail me on it, she surprises me.

“Well, after things ended with us…”

“You mean after you ended it,” I spit out, that wound still open at the top of my subconscious. I wince. “I’m sorry, Sweetcheeks…”

She shakes her head and pulls her hand away. “No, no. Once again, I deserve it. But if this has any chance of sticking long-term, Carson, you’re going to have to find a way to let go of what happened between us.” Her eyes seem to plead with me.

I nod. “I’ll try. For you. For us. Go ahead. Continue.”

Kat sips her wine and takes a bite of her lasagna. I do the same. The second bite of spicy Italian goodness hits my tongue, and I experience the taste. I’m ravenous, shoveling it in so fast I barely chew before putting in another bite.

She chuckles and dishes me out another serving without even asking. I look up and smile, grateful she knows me so well. At least in this.

“As you know, I was in bad shape when things ended. I went down a shitty path. I didn’t want anyone’s help, and it ended up taking its toll. I’m not going to go into too much detail…”

Technically, she didn’t have to. Chase had been keeping me updated daily on what was going on with her. I knew about the night he found her passed out with the infection, the hospitalization when once again she had refused to see me. I even had a hand in helping Chase move her things to this apartment. Lot of good that did, since she didn’t seem to keep any of it. Something I definitely want to ask about.

“Basically, after so many treatments and going it alone, I got really depressed, pushed everyone away.”

I can’t stop my eyebrow from rising in question.

“Yes, it wasn’t just you. I didn’t talk much to the girls, refused to allow them to help me.”

“But you let Chase.” I forced the words through clenched teeth. It’s been a sore spot for me and my cousin, but I trusted him too much to think he’d ever be inappropriate with her. Not to mention Gillian would have his nuts. But it did burn like white-hot fire in my chest when I thought about all the times he’d rush off to help Kat during her time of need. I wanted to be the only one to help her through. She was my responsibility but I couldn’t be there, and it fucking killed me.

She twirls a lock of her hair and purses her lips. “Yeah, he was a godsend. That man pushed and pushed until I gave in. Now, I couldn’t imagine my life without his friendship. He’s been a confidant, someone who was a bit blind to my situation, unlike the girls. I didn’t want them to see me as weak. Still don’t.” She frowns.

I reach out and rub her arm. “They would never, could never, think that about you. The bond you four have is unbelievable. Something to cherish. I’m not sure why you would think they’d see you as anything but the strongest woman in the fucking world. Surviving a fire, the injury, Phillip’s explosion, the kidnapping, Tommy’s death.” I shake my head and bring my face closer to hers. “Honey, if you look up the word survivor in the dictionary, there is a snapshot of the four of you smiling. Seriously, I’ve never known stronger women. And you lead the charge.”

“Thank you. It means a lot you see us that way.” Her big brown eyes glisten with unshed tears until she sniffs and brushes her hair from her face with a soft smile, still holding eye contact.

“You, Sweetcheeks. I see you that way. No matter where I am, or where you are, I’ve only ever seen you.”