The CEO's Surprise Family

by Teresa Carpenter

  “I prefer to keep this private for now.” Jethro picked up his abandoned drink and sipped. The burn of whiskey down his throat—just what he needed to loosen his tongue. “It appears I may have a daughter.”

  “As if.” Clay laughed and sipped his drink. “Come on, tell me what this is about.”

  Jethro simply stared at him.

  Finally Clay’s eyes went big and he shook his head. “You’re serious. You have a daughter?”

  “Maybe. Probably.” Jethro glanced at the picture frame on the coffee table.

  “Is this her?” Clay reached for the picture and stared. “Oh, hell.”

  “So you see it, too?”

  “That she has your eyes? It’s hard to miss.”

  “I’m told she has my birthmark, too.”

  Clay returned his attention to the photo and squinted. “Hmm. Could be, I guess. I’d want to see it up close to confirm. And we’ll need a DNA test. Who is the mother?”

  “And that’s why I called you.” He rarely asked for help. But in this case he knew his friend would direct him through the quagmire discreetly and efficiently. Jethro filled Clay in on all the details. “I need to know for certain she’s mine before I make any decisions.”

  “Of course. I already have a sample of your DNA.” The Fabulous Four were all millionaires and after Jackson went AWOL last year Clay had collected DNA samples from each of them as a security measure. “It shouldn’t be a problem getting the baby’s from the county. And I have a lab that will turn the results around in a day.”

  “Good.” Jethro stood to pace. “I want to see her.”

  “Whoa.” Clay held his hands up in a time-out gesture. “If you’re serious about giving her up, that may not be a good idea.”

  “It’s the right thing to do, don’t you think? Giving her up?”

  “Only you can answer that, bro.” Clay’s alert gaze pierced through Jethro’s ambivalence. “You never talk about family, except to say you never planned to have one of your own.”

  “Because I don’t have any. The foster system was never able to locate any next of kin for me.” There was no record of who’d abandoned him. Kind of hard to get info from no one.

  “In that case this little girl may be the only family you’ll ever know. You should think carefully before you sign your rights away.”

  Jethro shot his friend a get-real grimace. “I’m not equipped to raise a kid. I don’t scare easy but the thought of taking on custody of a little girl outright terrifies me. But I’d castrate myself before I left her in foster care.”

  “Ouch,” Clay flinched, “but I hear you. You know it doesn’t have to be all or nothing. You can negotiate the terms.”

  Jethro shook his head. Sharing custody with the red-hot redhead was not going to happen. Between baby and dancer, he’d never know another moment of peace. “Lexi made her terms clear. I won’t jeopardize Jasmine’s future.”

  He hesitated. “Jackson and Grace might raise her.”

  Jethro had considered the option, but he wouldn’t do that to his friend. “They aren’t even married yet. I can’t ask them to do that. And if she were that close, I may not be able to refrain from interfering, which wouldn’t be fair to anyone. No, Lexi Malone is her godmother. She obviously loves the child. It’s the best solution.”

  “Then I recommend you don’t see her.”

  Knowing Clay was right, Jethro struggled with the irrational compulsion. He prided himself on making dispassionate decisions. Not this time. “If she’s mine, I have to see her.”

  Clay sighed. “If she’s yours, I’ll set it up.”

  * * *

  Lexi’s day didn’t get any better as it wore on. Jethro’s assistant called but the appointment had been postponed for a day.

  The delay was torture. Every minute dragged. And what filled her head? The feel and taste of Jethro Calder. When she’d sought him out last night, the last thing she’d contemplated was an attraction to the man.

  Because it complicated much?

  Of course she never could have predicted he’d track her to her apartment and seduce her in her own living room. Thank her lucky stars she came to her senses before he actually got her in bed. But it had been too close, the struggle too hard for her peace of mind.

  She hadn’t lost her head like that in...no, she’d never lost her head like that. Been so swept away by a man’s kiss, by his touch, that she lost all sense of the here and now.

  The fact he was her goddaughter’s father put him off-limits. Those forbidden moments in his arms were hot enough to give her regrets, but Jazi had to come first.

  Desperate and longing to see her little girl, she called Jazi’s foster mother about setting up an appointment to see the baby, but it wasn’t convenient today. Instead they made arrangements for the next day.

  Waiting proved too brutal so Lexi called in to Modern Goddess to see if she could put in extra hours and went into work early.

  Between waiting and fighting off memories of Jethro’s kiss it looked set to be a long day.

  * * *

  Long didn’t describe her day. Try excruciating. Lexi decided she required the distraction of people around her for dinner. She didn’t set out for that place to be The Beacon, but somehow that’s where she ended up.

  And surprise, surprise Calder sat at the bar.

  Lexi hesitated, about to leave. They had an appointment for the next day. She should leave him in peace. Instead she slid onto the stool next to his.

  “A glass of white wine, please,” she said to the bartender. “Mr. Calder.”

  “Ms. Malone.”

  “Was your day a living hell? Because mine was.”

  “This is Las Vegas. It’s not unusual for the weather to be warm this time of year.”

  She laughed. “And here I thought you had no sense of humor.”

  “I’d like a bit of peace with my drink if you don’t mind.”

  “I do mind. I’m no good at waiting. I need someone to talk to and as I’m trying to be discreet about this whole thing, you’re the only one I can talk to.”

  “You’re assuming a lot.”

  “Not so much.” Her wine appeared in front of her. She smiled her thanks at the bartender. “Our appointment tomorrow tells me you acted on the information I gave you.”

  “I may just want more information.”

  “If that were the case, the appointment would have been for today. You don’t appear to be too good at waiting either.”

  He sent her a searing sideways glare. “The test results aren’t back yet.”

  “Bummer.” She sipped her wine. “I guess we’ll have to talk about something else.”

  “Or you could go away.”

  “I just got my wine.”

  He tilted his drink, ice clinking against the glass. “I suppose next you’ll want dinner.”

  “I thought you’d never ask.” She snagged a pretzel from a bowl on the bar. “It’ll be our second nondate.”

  “Is that supposed to be funny?” he demanded, clearly annoyed. “Because it’s not funny.”

  “Ah, the stuffed shirt is back. Now he has no sense of humor.”

  He lifted a finger and the bartender came over. “Sam, a table for two please.”

  “Of course.” Sam went back to serving.

  In less than a minute the maître d’ appeared beside them. “Sir, your table is ready.”

  “Thank you.” Jethro gestured for her to follow the tall man.

  “Do you like salmon?” he asked as they wound through the tables.

  “I do.”

  The maître d’ stopped and waved them into a quiet alcove where a large table was set for two. “Is there anything I can get for you?”

  “Two specials. Would you ca
re for another drink?” Jethro addressed the question to her.

  “No, but I’d like water, please.” She unfolded the linen napkin into her lap.

  Jethro nodded to the maître d’. The man bowed and acknowledged, “Two specials and two waters. Enjoy your meal.”

  “Nice.” The alcove had the feel of an elegant library with a faux fireplace. Above the mantel Lexi admired the Kittrell picture the artist had given Jethro. The cigar-and-decanter piece fit the area perfectly. “I’m impressed.”

  Jethro pointed to the Kittrell. “Ethan said you helped pick out the picture he gave me.”

  “He asked for some advice. I warned him we didn’t know each other well, but he insisted. The piece reminded me of The Beacon so I thought you’d like it.”

  “I do, very much.”

  Did he? His stoic features were so hard to read. “I’m glad. He wanted to please you. He was very grateful for what you’ve done for him.”

  “Good talent deserves to be recognized.” He sat back so the waiter could deliver the water and rolls. “Have you ever eaten here?”

  “No, but I’ve wanted to. I’ve heard lots of good things about The Beacon, even before I came to the Pinnacle.” She grinned at him. “I never would have bet I’d be sitting at the owner’s table when I finally made it here.”

  “The world works in mysterious ways.”

  “So true.” She spread butter on one of the warm yeast rolls. “If I hadn’t gone to one more dance class, I would never have met Alliyah, never moved to Las Vegas, never have met you.”

  He eyed her speculatively. “One wonders if there would still be a Jasmine?”

  “I don’t know. Alliyah’s path might have been different as well. But it didn’t happen differently and here we are.” She bit into the roll and chewed. And then moaned. “OMG, these rolls are delicious. They practically melt in your mouth. Oh, yum.” She pushed the basket toward him. “Keep those over there. Do not let me have another one. Not even if I beg.”

  “Naturally, I’ve looked you up,” he stated. “But why don’t you tell me a bit about yourself?”

  He probably hadn’t gotten the full report on her yet. She had no doubt whatsoever someone was working on one. “I was a music prodigy as a child. I graduated when I was fifteen, played violin with the Michigan Philharmonic at the age of sixteen while pursuing my PhD at the University of Michigan.”

  “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 yo
u 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.