Kinley

Christmas and New Years are behind us, and life is getting back to normal. Holt spends his days at the studio while I’m at work, and having him there beside me every evening, plus in my bed every night is wonderful.

Looking up from my phone call, I see him grinning at me from my office doorway, and wave for him to come in. “Yes, I understand. Please keep me posted,” I say, then hang up the call.

“Are you okay?” he asks.

“Yeah, that was the detective. They still haven’t found Heather.”

He drops into the chair across from me. “That bitch is the queen of hide and go seek.”

Giggles spill out of me, and he flashes that charming smile that I’ve never been able to resist. I swear, he can always make me laugh. “As long as she stays away from me, I don’t care. I’m sure they’ll catch up to her eventually.”

“I have to ask you something and if you don’t want to go, I’ll completely understand,” Holt says, leaning on my desk.

I raise my eyebrows and let him continue. “The rehab center is having some kind of celebration dinner for Marcus because he got his prosthetic, and Dad wants me to come. Of course, he invited you too, but after what happened with him, we both understand if you’d rather not.”

I haven’t talked to Marcus since that awful night when he pretended to be Holt to get me in bed. The truth is I can’t stand the thought of him, but he’s Holt’s family, and I don’t want to be left out of things because he’s an asshole. Plus, Holt shouldn’t have to keep us separate or be forced to choose sides.

“When is it?”

“Day after tomorrow. Marcus will send his plane for us.”

Shrugging, I get to my feet. “I’ll go. I’ve never been to Colorado.”

He drapes his arm around me as we leave my office. “It’s so beautiful. Bring your warmest clothes though. They have a lot of snow right now.” He grins down at me. “And the new lingerie I got you.”

I’m not going to argue with that

I can do this. If I’m going to be with Holt, I’m going to have to put up with seeing his brother occasionally. There have been times I’ve caught myself feeling sorry for him because of the situation he’s in, but I quickly remember he was going to fuck me while letting me believe he was Holt.

Besides, I’d like to see Grayson, and I’ve never been to Colorado. Holt has promised we’ll go back when it isn’t buried in snow, so we can hike and see the mountains up close.

The rehab center Marcus is living in looks more like a palace, even covered in a foot of snow. Being around Holt, it’s easy to forget he’s filthy rich. He doesn’t act like it. But being here, I’m surrounded by luxury. The people are dripping with high class upbringing even though they’re in treatment for a range of diseases and disorders.

I feel out of place.

Holt tucks me under his arm like he can tell I’m not real comfortable here. Leaning down he whispers, “Apparently crystal chandeliers and caviar brunches are a surefire way to stop boozing it up or heal a severe injury.”

Giggling, I wrap my arm around his waist, and we follow the lady leading us to Marcus’s room.

It’s not a room. It’s bigger than my cabin and complete with a hot tub, plush sitting area, huge television, and California King bed. Grayson opens the door and hugs Holt before pulling me in for a hug too. “It’s so good to see you,” he gushes.

“You too. You’re looking great.”

He does. He’s filled out a little since I saw him. The cast is off his arm, and there’s color to his cheeks.

“Mountain air,” he says, leading us inside.

I sit on a loveseat with Holt, while Grayson sits across from us. My gaze darts around nervously, looking for the man I’d rather never see again. No such luck. The bedroom door opens, and Marcus emerges.

He’d never be mistaken for Holt now. His hair is buzzed short and doesn’t quite hide the sizable scar on his head. He leans on one crutch while carefully walking on the new silver colored prosthetic. I shouldn’t stare, but it’s all I can do to drag my eyes away. Then that feels awkward, like I’m trying not to look at him. Ugh.

“Marc, how’s it going?” Holt says, as if nothing at all has happened.

“Fantastic,” he replies, sarcasm hanging thick around the word. He nods at me and my stomach knots. “Kinley.”

I return his nod. “Marcus.” Somebody help me, this is so freaking awkward.

Holt starts talking to him about someone at the studio they both know, and I’m glad to not have to take part in the conversation. Marcus mentions having a new guitar, and they head into his bedroom to check it out. I release a breath, laying my head back, and Grayson chuckles.

“I’m really glad you came, Kinley. I know this can’t be an easy situation for you, but I know how much Holt appreciates it.”

Forcing a smile, I try to relax. “I had to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. If not, we’d have to kidnap you and take you back to Foxhaven.”

“I’m doing well. Things are up and down, you know, but this place has amazing personnel. Marcus can’t get away with any of his shit, and I can get more rest.”

“Good.” The sound of the two of them laughing is followed by a few chords being played, and Grayson smiles fondly.

“Reminds me of them when they were teenagers. Their whole lives have been about music.”

“They’re so talented.”

“That they are.”

“So, what’s this celebration?”

Grayson gets up and grabs us both a bottle of water. “They do it whenever a patient gets their first prosthetic or reaches some other major milestone. It’s just a fancy dinner for the family and friends of the patient.”

“That’s nice of them.”

“It’s the least they could do for the money he’s dumping into this place.”

Grayson and I chat while Holt and Marcus hang out in the bedroom until it’s time for dinner. A private dining room has been reserved, and I’m in awe of the view out the large window that runs down one wall. I make sure to sit where I can enjoy the sight of the snow covered landscape, backed by dark mountains.

A man lurks in the doorway and it takes me a moment to recognize him. Sutton Bryant is the drummer for Jilted, and damn, the man is tall. He’s got to be six four at least, with a lean body and long copper colored hair. Bright green eyes stare at me with interest as Grayson steps in to introduce us.

“Kinley, this is Sutton. Sutton, this is Holt’s girlfriend, Kinley. She owns the Foxhaven Resort in Kentucky.”

Sutton smiles and shakes my hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“Same to you.”

He seems like a nice enough guy. Holt told me he’s the only member of Jilted that’s had much to do with Marcus since the accident, though they’re all in town to work at a local studio. For someone loved by thousands, Marcus doesn’t seem to have any friends.

The dinner goes well, much better than I expected. A lot of the awkwardness falls away. Marcus isn’t outright rude, but he doesn’t try to talk to me, and I pretend he isn’t there as Grayson entertains us with stories of the guys’ teenage antics. Sutton follows suit with crazy stories from their years on tour.

Of course, the food is delicious, and I’m debating whether or not to have a thick piece of chocolate cake for dessert when Sully walks in. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not late. You weren’t invited,” Grayson points out.

Nonplussed, Sully shrugs and sits in the only empty seat beside me. “This couldn’t wait. We have a problem.”

“Consider me shocked,” Marcus snorts.

“I need to talk to you,” Sully stresses.

Marcus leans back in his chair and stares at him. “Just say whatever you came to tell me. I’m sure everyone in this room will find out anyway.”

“All right, but prepare yourself. You’re not going to like it.”

Grayson and Holt both tense up, but Marcus shows no sign of giving a shit what’s coming.

“Do you remember years ago when that Nancy chick claimed to be pregnant by you?”

“Yeah. You paid for the abortion. So what? Have the tabloids dug up a five year old scandal?”

The identical expressions of shock on Grayson’s and Holt’s faces make it clear this is the first they’re hearing of this.

Sully has the courtesy to at least look a tad ashamed as he continues. “Ah, she didn’t have an abortion.”

Marcus’s face drains of color, and Grayson curses.

“Are you telling me I have a kid?”

“Yes. A boy. And Nancy is in the last stages of cervical cancer. She’s dying. The only other family he has are her elderly parents. They’re caring for the boy now, but we have to decide what to do soon if you don’t want him to end up in foster care.”

Marcus looks like he might throw up, and Holt is stunned into silence, but it’s Grayson’s reaction that shocks everyone. Without a word, he punches Sully right in the face, knocking him off his chair.

“Dad!” There’s a note of glee in Holt’s exclamation.

Wow, I’ve walked into a soap opera again. I have to wonder if all celebrities are this crazy. Do they all lead such drama filled lives or is it just the musicians? My heart goes out to that poor kid who will probably never have a decent father if he’s stuck with Marcus.

Grayson is calm as he sits back down, and Sully gets off the floor, running a hand over his eye that’s quickly swelling. Nobody says a word until Sully speaks. “Fine, I probably deserved that.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Marcus demands.

“Because you didn’t want a kid, and she would’ve blown everything. We didn’t want the media to get a hold of the story, so we paid her off. She had more than enough money to raise the kid. He wasn’t going without anything.”

As if that makes everything okay.

“I have a grandson,” Grayson says. “What’s his name? How old is he?”

“Turner, and he’s four.”

“What woman was this? Some groupie?” Grayson asks Marcus.

Marcus shrugs. “I don’t even remember her.”

“You slept with her in December of 2014. When you went home for the holidays. Right before your second album dropped.”

“Wait.” The room falls silent when Sutton speaks up for the first time. “That can’t be right. We spent December and January that year in Aspen. Remember, Marc? We took those chicks back to the hotel with us and one of them puked in the hot tub. That was right before our second album released. You couldn’t have been in Tennessee getting anyone knocked up.” He seems pleased with his announcement, and you can feel the tension lift from the room a bit at the possibility this isn’t Marcus’s kid.

Until Sully announces, “We did a paternity test, first. Sent a lab some of your hair and she brought the baby to be tested. There’s no doubt it’s yours.”

Grayson slaps the table in frustration. “How the hell did he get a woman pregnant from across the country?”

Sully eyes him warily and pulls out his phone. Swiping a few times, he holds it up for the whole table to see a picture of a smiling blond woman holding a dark-haired baby. “This is her. Do you remember her?”

Marcus shakes his head.

Holt glances at the photo, and his eyes widen. I grab his hand and feel it tremble before he pulls away and curses, then runs his hands through his hair like he always does when he’s stressed. What the hell is going on?

Maybe I should’ve guessed. After everything that’s happened since I’ve known Holt, I should know by now that for every day of peace and happiness we get, another catastrophe is just waiting to knock us down.

His voice is strained, and the look he gives me is full of remorse when he says, “I’m the one that slept with her, not Marcus. Christmas of 2014, we hooked up twice. Sutton is right. Marc was in Aspen.”

Fear streaks through me, followed by a brief spout of relief when I realize something. I lay my hand on Holt’s arm. “They did a DNA test. He can’t be yours.”

Holt shakes his head, and Grayson curses before replying. “They’re identical twins. That means identical DNA. A paternity test can’t differentiate between them.”

“I was in Aspen,” Marcus repeats.

Holt gets to his feet and walks out of the room. Grayson starts to get up, but I beat him to it. “I’ve got him,” I murmur, though I have no idea what to say to him.

He has a child. A son he’s never seen. We talked about kids and neither of us wants them until we’re older and more settled, but that just went out the window. He exists whether Holt planned it or not.

And everything is about to change again.

Holt seemed to vanish into thin air. By the time I make it out to the hallway, he’s gone. My mind is spinning. Where did he go? What’s going to happen now? And the most important. Is there anything I can do to make this better for him?

Grayson catches up to me in the lobby. “I can’t find him.” Hearing the note of panic in my voice, I take a deep breath.

“Give him a few minutes to process the news,” he advises, leading me over to a small table and chairs near the lobby window. His knuckles are bright red.

“Is your hand okay?”

He flexes it, and the corners of his mouth tilt up. “It’s not broken.”

“I’m glad you hit him. I want to go beat the shit out of him too. How did it feel?”

There’s a twinkle in his eye as he replies. “So good. I don’t think I’ve punched someone since I was a teenager.”

“Well, you saved it for the right person.”

He sighs and sits back. “I have a grandson.”

“How do you feel about that?”

“I’m furious I missed four years of his life, but I can’t wait to meet him.”

My hands fidget together on the table. “How do you think Holt will feel?”

“You know him. He’s compassionate and good with kids. He’s going to be livid for what he’s missed, but he’ll do the right thing by the boy, especially with his mother dying.”

God, I didn’t even think of the parallels of that. Of course, Holt will step up. He’s lost his mother too.

Grayson pins me with a scrutinizing look. “How do you feel about this, Kinley? I know you’re young, and children probably aren’t on your wish list yet. From what we just heard, Holt is likely to end up with custody of this boy. You should make sure you know what you want and what you’re willing to do before you talk to Holt.”

He says it as if this may scare me away. No, I didn’t necessarily want kids right now, but that doesn’t mean I’d leave him because he has a son. We just decided to start living together, and I’ve loved every second of it.

After a long pause, I look him in the eye. “I have an extra bedroom, and Foxhaven is a beautiful place to raise a kid.”

Grayson beams and squeezes my hand. “If my son doesn’t realize you’re the best thing for him, he’ll be the next one I punch in the face.” He gestures out the window to where a lone figure sits on a bench.

In less than a minute, I’ve grabbed my coat and I’m out the door. I’ve barely had time to wrap my head around this, but I know he needs me.

I brush the snow off the seat and sit next to him. He doesn’t acknowledge me. We just sit in silence, the tiny snowflakes floating down around us. There’s nothing I can say to make this better, but I want him to know I’m here. I’m with him.

Finally, he takes my hand, and I squeeze his. “He must think I abandoned him,” he mumbles, and my heart cracks in half.

“Babe, he’s four. He doesn’t know anything yet.”

He gives me a cautious look. “I have to get involved now. He’s mine, and I have to.”

“Of course, you do. I never expected anything else.”

He leans forward, resting his head in his hands. “I can buy a house near you and the studio. I know we decided to move in together, but—”

“If you decide that’s not right for your son, I’ll understand, but I have an extra bedroom we can fix up for him, and, you know, there will always be kids for him to play with at Foxhaven.”

He sits up and gazes at me for a moment before pressing a soft kiss to my lips. “You’re amazing, do you know that?”

Shrugging, I lay my head on his shoulder and he wraps an arm around me. “I don’t know anything about kids, but I know I love you, and I’ll love him because he’s a part of you.”

We sit in silence for a few more minutes, and I can’t imagine the thoughts flying through his head right now. Finally, I speak up again. “Holt?”

“Hmm?”

“My ass is frozen.”

His head falls back as laughter booms out across the night. He stands up and tucks me under his arm as we head toward the car. “I’ve had enough celebrating for one night. I need to call a lawyer, see what to do next. Make sure Plygant Records and Sully don’t have any further involvement in any of this.”

“Call your dad when we get to the hotel and let him know you’re okay.”

Opening my car door, he says, “Yes dear,” and I slap his chest.

Once we’re back at the hotel and cuddled up all warm in bed, I ask, “What do you think would’ve happened if Turner was Marcus’s kid?”

Pulling me close, he nuzzles my hair. “Dad would’ve probably taken him, or I may have ended up with him anyway. He was family either way.”

This man. The way he cares for the people around him makes me love him so much more.

I’d love to be his family.

That’s my last thought before I fall asleep.

Having an endless supply of money really comes in handy sometimes. It doesn’t take a week for the lawyer Holt hired to get an order for another DNA test. It turns out that there is a more comprehensive test that can differentiate between identical twins, it’s just insanely expensive. Holt doesn’t think it’s necessary since he remembers sleeping with her, and Marcus was across the country, but the lawyer insists he should have one before he’s added to the birth certificate. His mother lied about which twin fathered the baby, just to get money from the famous one, so they need to be sure.

A few days before the test results, we get the news that Turner’s mother, Nancy, has died, and the lawyers make arrangements for a custody hearing. The grandparents are worried, of course, since they’ve never even met Holt, but they’ve also been clear that they can’t raise Turner with their failing health.

Holt exchanges a few emails with them, but they really need to meet. “I got the DNA results today,” Holt tells me as we sit down to dinner. “He’s mine.”

“No surprise there. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I need to go meet him and his grandparents. If they don’t fight me, and it doesn’t sound like they will, we may not even need a hearing. I’m his only surviving parent.”

“Maybe it’d be better if we invited them here for a few days. They could see where Turner will be living. Sets their minds at ease. Hell, they could stay as long as they need to let him adjust to the new place and new people.”

Holt grins at me. “That’s a great idea. I’ll email them today.”

“Have them send you his clothing sizes, and what toys he might like. We can go shopping and get his room ready.”

Holt gets to his feet and puts his empty dish in the dishwasher. “I know he loves trucks and construction equipment. Dinosaurs, of course. And some cartoon called Build it Bill.”

Joining him, I lay my hands on his hips. “Are you nervous?”

His hands cup the back of my head, and I press my cheek against his chest. “Terrified. I don’t know anything about kids. I’m going to screw him up.”

“You’ll make mistakes like everyone, but you’ll also love him and put him first. As long as kids have that unconditional devotion, I don’t think you can screw them up.”

The next week drags by. Turner’s grandparents agree to visit and bring Turner. When the day comes, Holt looks out the cabin window every two minutes, pacing the floor. Finally, a sedan pulls in.

An elderly man exits and approaches us while the grandmother gets Turner out of his car seat.

“Mr. Singleton,” the man says, reaching to shake his hand.

“Holt,” Holt corrects him with a smile.

“I’m Arliss, and this is my wife, Geneva.”

Geneva approaches with a wide-eyed little boy. He’s wrapped in a thick coat with only his little face peeking out, and there’s no doubt who this boy belongs to. He’s a tiny version of the man I love, and the most beautiful little thing I’ve ever seen.

Geneva stoops down to Turner’s level. “Turner, this is Holt. Do you remember when we talked about him?”

A finger goes to his mouth, and he nods. “He’s my daddy, like Niles has a daddy.”

That’s all it takes for tears to slip down my cheeks, and Holt has to swallow multiple times before he can speak. “Hi Turner. I’m so happy to meet you. Your grandma has told me all about you.”

A very familiar smile breaks across his face. “Do you want to see my trucks?”

Holt grins and reaches for his hand. “I sure do. And I have a room with lots of trucks. There are even trucks on the walls. Do you want to come and see with me?”

Turner takes his hand and happily accompanies Holt inside. Geneva starts to go with them, but Arliss touches her arm. “Let them get to know each other a moment.”

Geneva looks stricken, but she nods. The sight of her breaks my heart. It’s clear she loves Turner and giving him up right after losing her daughter must be excruciating. “Why don’t we go inside and get warm?” I suggest.

She forces a small smile, and they follow me into the kitchen. We can overhear a little of what Holt and Turner are saying from down the hall. “And that’s an excavator! It scoops up the dirt!” Turner exclaims.

My eyebrows shoot up, and I turn to see his grandparents smiling as we take a seat at the kitchen table. “Excavator. I couldn’t have told you what it was called,” I laugh. “He’s very smart.”

“Yes, he is,” Geneva agrees.

“He loves his heavy machinery,” Arliss chuckles.

We spend a few minutes chatting over cups of coffee.

“When Nancy told us that the baby belonged to Marcus Singleton, we didn’t believe her. Nancy always had…issues with the truth. She was a wild one from the time she turned fifteen, and I’m sad to say that didn’t end when she had Turner. She moved around a lot and left him with anyone and everyone who would keep him, until we stepped in and took him home about six months ago,” Arliss says.

Geneva gives him a reluctant smile. “We kept hoping she’d grow up and calm down as he got older, but it never happened, and now…”

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Geneva nods and takes a quick sip of coffee. “After she was diagnosed and realized she wasn’t going to survive, she gave us the paperwork, including the DNA test that showed she was telling the truth, at least we thought so. I had no idea he was an identical twin,” Geneva says.

“Well, who the hell would see that coming?” Arliss snorts. He points at me. “I’ll tell you this though, I was glad to find out he belonged to Holt instead. I’ve seen enough of the news to know Marcus Singleton is no father. I hope Holt isn’t like his brother.”

It’s a fair concern. “They couldn’t be more different. Holt has had a hard life, and he didn’t grow up with Marcus. He’s never gotten into drugs or had any problems with alcohol. He works hard, though he’s very financially secure and doesn’t need to work. He’ll be able to devote all the time that Turner needs to making sure he’s healthy and happy. He’ll never go without anything.”

Arliss smiles and glances around. “This is a beautiful place.”

Geneva gazes out the window a moment. “We wanted to keep him, you know, raise him, try to do a better job than we did with Nancy, but neither of us can get around like we used to. Arliss needs a hip replacement, and I have more bad days than good with my arthritis. He deserves a young couple like you two, people who can keep up with him, play with him, teach him. It would’ve killed us to hand him over to the state, but eventually, we wouldn’t have had a choice.”

I reach across and squeeze her hand. “You’ve done a wonderful job with him. He’s obviously bright and curious.” Giggles ring out from the bedroom. “And he seems like a happy kid. I promise you we will take good care of him. He’ll have other kids to play with, especially in the summer when the resort is full.”

The conversation turns to the resort and how I came to own it at such a young age. I offer to take them over and get them settled into a suite, and they agree. We head down the hall to get Turner and Holt.

Arliss lays a hand on his wife’s shoulder. “Look, honey. He’s going to be fine.”

Holt sits on the floor with Turner, surrounded by trucks and dinosaurs. They’re oblivious to us watching them from the doorway as they play, making the dinosaurs roar, and the trucks smash into them.

Turner notices us first and grins up at them. “Look! Daddy got me all these toys!”

“That’s wonderful, baby,” Geneva says. “Kinley is going to show us the hotel so come along.”

His face folds into a scowl. “I want to stay here.”

Holt leans over and says, “The hotel is really cool. It even has a swimming pool. Do you want me to show you?”

Turner’s face lights up. “A pool? I love swimming. I wish I could breathe underwater like a fish.”

Everyone laughs, and we head outside to the vehicles. Turner isn’t happy when he realizes we aren’t riding with them, but we promise they’ll be right behind us.

The staff has been told who Turner is and that he’s going to be staying, and everyone goes out of their way to smile and say hello to him and his grandparents.

“Whew,” Arliss says as we walk through the lobby. “This is some place you got here.”

“I’m proud of it,” I admit. “We’re making a lot of changes to make it more appealing to families. In the spring, we’ll have a new playground and a splash park.”

They ooh and ahh over the suite I chose for them when we enter. It’s one of the recently renovated ones, with a large living area, full kitchen, and two bedrooms. Turner races around the place making car noises, while I show them around.

“You’re welcome to stay as long as you like. We don’t want you to have to worry about leaving Turner in a strange place. He can stay in your suite or with us as he gets used to the place. The staff knows who you are, so anytime you’d like to order room service, or eat in the restaurant, just have them charge it to your room, and I’ll comp everything.”

“That’s very kind of you,” Geneva says.

“You’re family now, and you’re always welcome to come and stay.”

Kids are amazing in their ability to adapt, and Turner is a perfect example. He spent the first few nights sleeping in his grandparent’s suite, until Holt suggested a sleepover in the “truck room”. Now, three weeks later, he spends every night in the cabin with us, and most of his time with Holt, though he likes for me to bathe him and read his bedtime story.

Since he’s comfortable, Arliss and Geneva head back to their home, and I make sure to remind them they’re welcome back anytime. We will always make room. They’re happy that Turner has a safe place to stay and have no problem handing guardianship over to Holt, sparing us a court hearing.

Whenever Turner misses them, we video chat and it seems to help. He’s such a bright, engaged child, always wanting to know how something works or why things are the way they are. Thank goodness for Google. You don’t know how little you understand until a kid asks you fifty questions a day. In short, he’s amazing, and seeing Holt’s joy at his newfound position as a father is the most heartwarming thing I’ve ever witnessed.

Harriet also has a soft spot for Turner, and he absolutely loves her, often trailing behind her, chatting about his day while she works. She insists he’s no trouble, and I get a death glare whenever I try to rescue her so she can get her work done in peace.

Holt needs to go shopping today, so I take Turner with me to Foxhaven, and it’s late afternoon when we return. Holt is just pulling in the driveway, and Turner barely lets him get out of the car before tackling him. “Daddy! I saw a big bird! He was on the lake and dipped his head down like this!” He bobs his head up and down, making Holt laugh.

“That’s great, buddy! I’ve got something for you. Let’s go inside before the cold makes our noses fall off.”

Giggling, Turner runs toward the house.

Holt pulls a couple bags out of the back seat, along with a long cardboard box. “How was your day?” he asks me as we make our way inside.

“Good. The construction company says they can break ground on the playground and spray park next week.”

Turner darts inside, shedding his coat, shoes, and hat along the way. Holt takes a seat on the couch, and Turner hops up beside him. “Is it a truck?” Turner asks, wiggling around. Like he doesn’t have a room full of them.

Holt opens the box and pulls out a small guitar. It’s about a third of the size of Holt’s but the same color. One of Turner’s favorite things is when Holt lets him strum the strings on his guitar, so I’m not surprised at Turner’s reaction. His little mouth falls open and he gets up, hopping around. “It’s mine? I can play it?”

“It’s yours,” Holt says, patting the couch. Turner sits beside him and Holt lays the guitar on his lap. “You hold it just like this.”

“Just like you!” Turner cries and strums the strings. “I’m going to learn to play songs too.” He grins up at me. “Look, Kinley!”

“I see! That’s wonderful. Daddy will have you playing songs in no time.”

Holt grins at me, then regards Turner. “Now, this isn’t a toy. You have to be careful and take good care of it, okay? A guitar can be more than just an instrument. It’s a friend. You can even give it a name.”

He chews his lip and looks up at Holt. “What should I name it?”

“That’s up to you. Some guys name their guitars after girls they like,” he teases.

The teasing goes right over Turner’s head as he beams and announces, “Oh! Then I’ll call it Harriet. She’s nice. I like her.”

Holt tries not to burst out laughing as I nod at Turner. “Harriet is a great name.”

“It is,” Holt agrees, grinning at me. “Do you want me to show you some stuff?”

“Yes!”

While Holt gives Turner his first guitar lesson, I head in the kitchen to make dinner. Turner’s adoration for Harriet is adorable and completely understandable. She was a surrogate mother to me and she’s good at it. I can’t remember a time she didn’t live at Foxhaven, and she’s always been there when I needed her. It puts an idea in my head, but I’ll have to see what Holt thinks before running with it.

After Turner is tucked into bed that night and snoring away, Holt hovers in his doorway, watching him.

“Are you okay?” I whisper, wrapping my arms around his waist.

He pulls me against him. “Never been better.”

“Something is on your mind.”

He nods, and slowly closes Turner’s door before we return to the living room. “I should get back to work soon, back to the studio. I hate the thought of leaving him with a babysitter though, and neither of us can take him to work with us all the time.”

“I’ve been thinking about that. I want to ask Harriet if she’d like to be a full time nanny, like she was to me when I was little. I think she’d probably prefer to take care of him than look after the housekeeping staff.”

He slides his arm around me as we settle onto the couch to relax. “That’s a great idea. Do you think she’d accept more money? I’d like to give her a raise as well.”

“Only one way to find out.”