“Zoe?”

I pushed Blake’s door open and set down Zoe’s carrier, eager to see if my little girl was okay. I’d been so concerned when Pat told me how hard she’d been crying that I hadn’t stopped to wonder by Blake had her.

When I saw him sitting at his desk, my sweet baby girl asleep in his arms, I stopped cold. And stared. My little girl… asleep in her father’s arms. My Zoe had a father, at long last. One that obviously cared a great deal about her.

Taking a few steps closer, I tried to hold back the tears. I had to be strong. Even though Blake didn’t want me, even though he’d hidden his relationship with Michelle from me, he deserved to know he was a father. He could be a good father even if he wasn’t with me.

“Shh, she’s okay,” Blake said, apparently misunderstanding my concern. He looked so big and strong with my tiny girl in his arms. His tiny girl. I had to tell him. Now was the time. But I sank down in the chair across from him, unable to find the right words.

Watching him stroke my little girl’s hair, I tried to tell him, but I couldn’t. Partly because it hurt so much for me to lose him as a boyfriend the same week that my little girl gained him as a father. But mostly because of Michelle. She’d been so gleeful, so thrilled to inform me that I’d misjudged him. That she had him, not me. And of course she did. She was beautiful. Rich. She was from his world—I wasn’t.

If Blake married Michelle—a thought that brought another wave of tears to my eyes—then she’d be my baby’s stepmother. That awful woman would be a part of my baby’s life.

How could I let that happen? But I had to tell Blake. It was the right thing to do. I took a deep breath and opened my mouth, but Blake spoke first.

“What did she say to you?”

“What?” The word came out in a confused rush of air.

“The woman who was in my office on Monday. She spoke to you, right?”

“Yes. She said… that you were… together.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear that, but she was lying.”

If only I could believe that was true. “She said you bought that diamond necklace for her. And that she was expecting an… an engagement ring next.”

“It’s not true. I wouldn’t marry her if she were the last woman on earth. She’s not a nice person, Penny.”

I let out a shuddery breath I’d been holding. “But the necklace?”

A flash of unease showed on his face for a moment. “She purchased it, but I got the bill for it. It’s… it’s kind of a long story. But I’ve never been involved with her romantically. Not ever, and I never wanted to be. Do you believe me?”

I stared at him, his earnest face, his deep brown eyes. Zoe stirred a little and he shifted her on his lap, rubbing her back gently. For a man who’d been afraid to pick her up, he was doing a great job with her now. “I want to believe you, but how do you even know Michelle? Why was she here?”

“As I said, it’s a long story. She—wait. Did she tell you here name?”

“I know Michelle. I’ve known her for years,” I said bitterly. “And you’re right, she’s not a nice person. But how do you know her?”

Blake was silent for a moment, seeming to gather his thoughts. “Long story short, I knew her father.”

“You did?” That seemed unlikely. “But he died a long time ago. When she was just a little girl. How’d you know him?”

Blake frowned. “No, he died just a few years back. He was giving me a tour of his factory—Hollister Holdings was thinking of buying it. And he clutched his heart and collapsed. He died in my arms. The last thing he said to me was to take care of Michelle. So I did. I tried to, anyway.”

The world narrowed, and I felt faint. I clutched the armrests for support and my vision blurred.

“Penny? Penny!” Blake started to stand and then remembered Zoe. Instead, he hit a button on his phone. “Vera! Come in here, something’s wrong with Penny.”

“No,” I said, my voice coming from a million miles away. “No, I’m fine.”

Blake stared at me for another long moment as I looked back at him. Gradually, the multiple, blurred versions of him melded into one. “Never mind,” he said, and clicked to end the call. He stared at me intently and waited.

“That wasn’t her father.” My voice was barely a whisper, and Blake leaned forward, his arms going around Zoe. “That was her stepfather. That man who died in your arms… Edwin Grant… that wasn’t her father, that was her stepfather. He was my father.”

“Your father?” Surprise rung through his deep voice. “Your maiden name is Grant? So… you and Michelle are stepsisters?”

“Yes.” One tear and then another traced its way down my face. “Once he met Michelle’s mother, he pretty much forgot about me. His life became about them. About her. And now I know… his dying thought wasn’t of me. It was of Michelle. His new daughter.”

“Oh Christ. I’m so sorry, Penny. I never would have told you that if I’d known…” Carefully, he stood up, cradling Zoe. He moved around to my side, and I reached out, taking my baby from him as he sat in the chair next to me.

Holding my sweet little girl tightly, I cried into her hair. I’d known my father had gotten distant, but I never thought I’d hear anything like this. That his last words were about Michelle.

Tears poured down my cheeks and onto Zoe’s head. I cried for my father. For my baby. For myself. I cuddled my sweet little baby as I did so. “What would I do without you, Myshka,” I whispered, kissing the top of her head.

“What?” Blake’s voice cut through my tears. “What did you call her?”

“Myshka,” I said, my face still buried in her hair. “It means little mouse in Russia. My father used to call me that—back when he still thought of me at all.”

“My god. Penny… Penny, look at me.”

He was being too loud. He’d wake Zoe. Why didn’t he just let me cry in peace? But he was insistent. “Penny… you have to listen to me.”

Eventually I did, and to my amazement, he was smiling.

“I didn’t know your father. I didn’t know anything about him. When he was laying there on the floor, his head on my arm, I only heard syllables. It sounded like he was saying “me” at first, and then “mish.” Then he said to take care of his daughter. Later, when I met your stepmother, I just assumed he must have meant Michelle. She was the only daughter I knew about. But what if he was saying, “Take care of my daughter Myshka?”

I stared at him in shock. Could he have been? I clung to the hurt and pain, not wanting to get my hopes up.

“You said you weren’t close, but you must have spent some time with him and his new family.”

“Yes… I did.” Where was Blake going with this?”

“Did your father ever refer to Michelle as his daughter?”

I thought about it. He’d been proud of her, proud of her refined, aloof, upper-class manner. But he’d always introduced her as his stepdaughter. Never his daughter. “No,” I whispered, and Blake smiled at me.

Blake shook his head, his eyes full of wonder. “All this time, I should have been taking care of you, instead of her. I broke my promise to your dad, but I didn’t know. I intend to make up for it now.” He held out his arm and I went to him, balancing on his thigh. He cradled me and I cradled Zoe. “Your dad’s last thoughts were about you,” he whispered in my ear, making me cry harder.

But it was a different kind of crying than before. Not exactly happy tears, but there was joy there somewhere. My father hadn’t forgotten about me—at least not at the very end. And Blake had never abandoned me. He’d never been with Michelle. He was the man I always thought he was—the man I wanted by my side.

Blake was still whispering reassuring things in my ear. “I’m going to make good on my promise to him. My promise to take care of you. With Michelle, it was providing financial support. With you… with you and Zoe, I want to be part of your lives. If you’ll have me. I want you by my side, Penny. Every step of the way. And this little girl… she’s the most precious thing in the world. Maybe someday... if we stay together… maybe someday you’d consider letting me formally become a part of her life.”

Stunned, I straightened up, looking at him. After all the revelations the past few minutes, it seemed amazing that he still didn’t know. “Like… adoption?”

“Yes,” he said, looking at me, as if trying to gage my reaction. “Only if you felt comfortable with that.”

“You’d really want to adopt Zoe?”

“Yes.” He looked surprised at my surprise. “More than anything.”

Joy bubbled up inside me. This was just too perfect. “You can’t adopt her. It’s not possible.”

“Why not?” Blake said, looking hurt.

“Because legally, you can’t adopt your own child.”

Blake stilled. “What?” his voice was faint.

“She’s yours, Blake. Your little girl—just as much as she’s mine. That was me at the ball. In the white dress, the mouse costume. That was me.”

“No.” His voice was faint. Stunned. “It couldn’t have been.”

Then his deep brown blinked away moisture. “Could it? Was that really you? I looked for you. For so long. Why—why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know. I looked for you, too, and then I started working here, but I didn’t know. Not until Monday until you sent that text about the Latour. How your grandfather had given you your first bottle. And then I knew, and I raced over here, but then I met her. And she told me…”

Blake’s whole body stiffened. “She knew. All this time. I asked her, over and over, if she knew who the girl in the mouse costume was. She claimed she didn’t, and all this time you were her stepsister.”

“Oh god. I asked her about you, too. She said she didn’t know anyone wearing a costume like that.”

“I should take that diamond necklace and stuff it down her throat.”

“No,” I said, not that I thought he’d really do it. “We can think about her later. For now, don’t you see what this means? Zoe’s your daughter. Your little girl. You’re a father, Blake. And my baby has a daddy.”

“She’s really mine?” He kissed the top of her head.

“She’s really yours. You’re stuck with us—both of us.”

“I’m so glad.” His arms squeezed me tighter, and his lips met mine. This kiss was different. Better than the ones that came before. There were no more secrets. No more longing for missing loved ones. We were together, the three of us. A unit. A family. And if I had anything to do with it, we’d never be apart again.