Claimed by the Mountain Man (Montana Mountain Men Book 4)

Pushing through the door into the office that’s now mine, I close it behind me and exhale shakily. Penn Barnett is a force of nature and it took almost everything I had not to melt into his huge, dominating, infuriating arms. I’m still angry about him kissing me, following me and all the “mine” bullshit, but Jesus, he is one seriously sexy man. When he whispered those naughty things in my ear, the urge to allow him to overwhelm me was almost unbearable.

Since I was a teenager and really started noticing boys, I learned I had a type. I wish I could say that I liked the sweet nerdy guys who bring you flowers and carry your books, but the truth is those ones were never the stars of my dirty teenage fantasies. Nope, I crave the assholes. The jocks, the overbearing meatheads who have a tendency to bully their way into getting whatever and whoever they want in life.

Alphaholes are my catnip. Unfortunately, that means that my dating history mainly consists of assholes who cheat on me, or those who want to fuck me in private, loving my curves, but pretend I don’t exist in real life. My last serious boyfriend, Eric, was a total meathead, he was on the college football team, big, built, sexy and totally into me. We dated for most of my junior and senior years at the university of Chicago and I really thought he was the one, until I found him in bed with a stick thin cheerleader named Muffy.

He really enjoyed telling me how my curves and my career aspirations were cute, but that if the NFL was going to come calling, he needed to have the right kind of woman on his arm. At the time, I was more angry than hurt, but it taught me a valuable lesson. Guys like that are assholes. I’ve been single ever since, choosing to focus on law school and passing the bar. Well, at least until my life changed almost eighteen months ago.

Still, I’m not immune to hot guys, and Penn Barnett with his huge body and his gravelly “Mine” is the worst kind of temptation for me.

Inhaling, I force myself to slow my breathing until I’m relatively calm. The office I’m standing in acts as mix of waiting room, storage room, and antechamber. Janet, my new boss’s office is through a door at the far end. Her door is shut and I’m grateful as I take a moment to pull myself together.

Crossing the room, I lower myself into my seat, place my purse beneath my desk at my feet and move the mouse to bring my computer to life. Taylor, the founding partner and senior lawyer here, gave me all the user names and passwords to access the computer system last week, so I confidently log on and open my email. There’re ten unread emails sitting in my inbox, all from Janet.

I had planned to go and make both myself and her a coffee before I got started, but as an eleventh email pings into my inbox, I decide against that plan and get straight to work. Janet made it very clear when I met with her last week that she doesn’t like me, doesn’t want me here and is only entertaining my presence because Taylor, her uncle, employed me as a favor to my godmother Chloe.

Apparently it doesn’t matter that I graduated from Harvard Law, or that I only need to take the bar to become a practicing lawyer, she doesn’t care. To her, I’m nothing but an inconvenient nuisance. I’m determined to change her mind. I might only be a paralegal, but I’ll be the best damn paralegal she’s ever met and when I do take the bar, I’ll be her equal and she can take her distain and shove it up her ass.

I don’t leave my desk for the next two hours, forcing everything but my list of tasks from my mind. It’s obvious that some of the things Janet has requested I do are intended to piss me off, like researching ancient out of date precedent that I very much doubt she would ever need in a small-town lawyer’s office. But I do it all without question, emailing back everything she’s asked for one by one.

By the time my stomach starts to growl, it’s after two and I’ve still yet to even see Janet today. I’m assuming she’s in her office, but there’s been no proof of life, so I tentatively tap on her door.

“Come.”

Pushing it open just wide enough for me to peer around the gap, I smile. “I’m just going to grab some lunch; did you want me to get you anything?” It’s totally not my job to get her food, but I’m nice and it’s my first day. I don’t want to give her any excuse to be any more unpleasant to me.

“No thank you,” she says curtly, not even bothering to lift her gaze from her computer monitor.

“Okay then.” It’s obvious she has no intention of speaking further, so I close the door behind me, grab my purse and head over to Taylor’s office that mirrors mine and Janet’s on the other side of the corridor.

Taylor is a robust, white-haired man that looks far too much like the KFC colonel. Unlike his niece, he is by far one of the nicest men I’ve ever met. He has a sunny, playful disposition and a manner that makes you want to hug him. His paralegal is a man named Dave, who seems to have an equally sunny outlook, and he immediately lifts his head and smiles widely at me the moment I step inside.

“Well good afternoon, Lulu, how’s your first day going? I’ve been listening out for the yelling so I could come on over and rescue you, but it’s been mighty quiet over there.”

“So far, so good,” I say, not wanting to bitch about my new boss’s frosty nature on my first day.

“I’m glad to hear it, you’ve already lasted longer than the last two paralegals, if you make it the full week it’ll be a record,” Dave laughs.

“How many paralegals has she had?” The question slips out before I can stop it.

“You’re number twelve.”

“Twelve! In how long?”

“That’s just in the last three months,” he says with a smirk.

My eyes widen and suddenly I’m wondering if Taylor wasn’t just being nice when he offered me this job. “Err, wow. Okay, I actually came to ask if you wanted me to grab you anything while I’m getting lunch?”

“No thank you, sweetie, I always bring something from home. I’m vegan and, well, Rockhead Point hasn’t caught up with the rest of the modern world about veganism just yet.”

I smile. “Is Taylor in, has he eaten?”

“He is and he has. Mama June always packs him a brown bag. She has him on a low-fat diet and she doesn’t trust him not to gorge himself on fried chicken if he has to go out and buy something.”

Less than five minutes in Dave’s company and I already feel better. There’s something about him that’s infectiously happy, and after everything that’s happened this morning, a little ray of sunshine is exactly what I need. With a smile and a wave, I leave his office and head toward the exit, only to stumble when I spot the local psycho, Penn Barnett sitting on the waiting room couch, his feet propped up on the table, a wide smile on his face.

“Kitten, I was wondering when you’d be coming out for lunch. What do you fancy? Granny Annie’s food is great or there’s Wake Up and Go Go if you need a caffeine fix.”

He’s here, and his body language is screaming comfortable, lusty comradery. What the actual hell? “What are you doing?”

“Taking you for lunch.” He smiles, unfurling himself from his seat on the couch and revealing his intimidating height as he towers over me.

“No thanks. But I meant what are you doing here?” I do a weird, spinney finger gesture.

“I told you I wasn’t going anywhere until you gave me your number and agreed to go out with me.”

“You’ve been here the whole time?” I furrow my brow, turning to Annette who is sitting behind her desk. She nods, smiling sheepishly before looking away, pointedly focusing her attention on her computer screen. “Why?” I ask, turning back to eye him suspiciously.

“Because you’re mine and I’m not just going to walk away.”

Something about the tone of his voice and the way his whole body is tense makes me want to throw myself at him, almost as much as it makes me want to turn tail and run in the opposite direction. Penn Barnett is kind of annoyingly perfect, he’s a hot, dominant asshole. If my life was different, I’d be on him like white on rice. But my life isn’t different, and right now I’m not in the position to indulge some alphahole who thinks I’m his property within minutes of meeting me.

“Yeah, no. That’s not going to work for me,” I say, wrinkling my nose dismissively and striding past him. “Annette, you need anything for lunch?” I call over my shoulder.

“No thanks, sweetie,” she calls back. I don’t acknowledge her, I can’t look behind me because if he’s looking at me with all that intense want and need, I’ll falter. So instead I throw open the door and leave.

He’s beside me a moment later, his arm dropping around my shoulders. “Get your arm off me. I don’t know you and I don’t want you touching me.”

“I think we both know that’s a lie, you like it when I touch you.”

“Err nope, strange men don’t do it for me,” I quip, still striding on. I’m not exactly sure where I’m going, I vaguely remember there being a café or coffee shop in this direction when Chloe showed me around town, but really, I could be headed in the totally wrong direction. Either way, I can’t stop now, not with my stalker in tow.

“I’m not a strange man, I’m your man, so you can admit you like me touching you. If anyone else touches you we’re going have a problem though,” he growls.

“Wow.” I stop walking and turn to look at him, dislodging his arm from around me as I do. “Do you actually hear the shit coming out of your mouth right now? I have a boyfriend, and he’s going to have a problem with you kissing and manhandling me, so hands off,” I cry.

“No you don’t.”

“Excuse me?”

“You don’t have a boyfriend.”

“What? Yes I do.”

“What’s his name.”

Fuck. “Tony,” I say quickly.

“Tony,” Penn repeats back to me, a smirk etched across his plump full lips. “And where is Tony?”

“At work.”

“What does he do?”

“Lawyer.”

“Where does he live?”

Oh crap, he’s got me here. Obviously, fictional Tony doesn’t live here in this tiny town where everyone knows everyone. “Chicago.”

“So he’s not your boyfriend. If he was any kind of a man he wouldn’t let his woman live on the other side of the country from him.”

“Oh my god, do you hear yourself? He’s not a caveman and I can live wherever I choose.”

“No, Kitten, he’s not a man. You obviously made him up, has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar?”

He’s smirking again. God, he’s good looking, why is he so good looking? And yes, many people have told me I’m a terrible liar, but I’ve been working on it and I really thought I was getting better. After all, you can’t be a good lawyer unless you have a great poker face.

“Whatever, I’m still not yours to touch, so keep your hands to yourself.” I try for an imperious tone as I turn and start marching down the street again, but I think I probably sound more peevish, not a great look on a grown ass woman.

His quiet chuckle follows me, then the weight of his arm settles over my shoulder again, his fingers drawing circles on my bare skin. “If you don’t like it, then why are your nipples hard?” he drawls smugly.

I try to shrug his arm off but he keeps it fixed in place and after the third failed attempt to remove him, I give up, keeping my body tense to ward myself against the tingles that his fingers are creating. It isn’t until I spot the coffee shop ahead of us that I start to relax, I pretty much know he’s going to insist on joining me, but at least I can put a table between us and maybe convince him I’m not interested in him.

The bell above the door jingles when I push it open and he immediately presses his palm against it above my head, holding it open for me while I step inside. A pretty brunette is serving behind the counter, and the place is reasonably quiet. There’re only a handful of people ahead of me and about half the tables filled. Penn is ominously quiet beside me, but his arm is still hanging possessively over my shoulder, keeping me with him and silently marking me as his.

“Welcome to Wake Up… Oh hey, Penn,” the girl says when she looks up from the counter. Her smile freezes a little when her eyes go from me to the arm that’s around me. Shit, is this girl Penn’s ex? Am I about to be stuck in the middle of some messed up relationship drama because this guy won’t take no for an answer and walk away?

“Hey Bonnie, I’d like you to meet Lulu, she’s mine,” Penn announces loudly.

“Yours,” Bonnie says softly. Her eyes widen as a slightly manic expression appears on her face, right before she bounds around the counter and throws her arms around me, hugging me tightly.

I am not a hugger.

Frozen, I keep my arms by my side, my purse still gripped tightly in one hand while the second stranger of the day invades my personal space.

“Oh my goodness, I’m so happy for you guys,” the girl gushes. She’s young, maybe late teens, or early twenties. Eventually she releases me completely and takes a step back.

“Lulu, this is my sister Bonnie,” Penn explains with a chuckle.

His sister, this is his sister. I’m inadvertently meeting his family and he just told her I’m his. Fuck my life. I’ve entered the twilight zone, that really is the only explanation for this entirely too messed up day.

“I’m not his,” I hiss, then turn to Penn, “I’m not yours.”

“Oh sweetie, resistance is futile, but I’ve been where you are. We should swap numbers, trust me you’re going to need someone to talk you through how to deal with a Barnett man,” Bonnie says sweetly.

“That’s nice of you, but I have no interest in dealing with him, so I’m good. I’d love a large latte and one of those yummy looking bagels though please.”

“Err,” Bonnie looks at me and then to Penn beside me. He must give her some kind of nod or whatever, because she steps back and heads behind the counter.

“I’ll take a large black coffee, a pecan banana muffin and pastrami on rye if you have it please,” Penn says.

“You guys eating in?” Bonnie asks.

“Yes,” Penn says at the same time I say “No.”

Her eyes stay wide as she looks between us again.

“Takeaway please, Bonnie, I have to get back to work,” I tell her, trying to be as polite as possible. Just because I’m pissed at her annoying and boundary ignoring brother, doesn’t mean I need to be rude to her.

“Takeaway then apparently,” Penn says, a slightly huffy tone to his voice.

I consider arguing and telling her he’s eating in and I’ll be leaving, but it’s not worth the argument, so instead I reach into my purse to grab some money. Penn’s handed her some cash before I get a chance, but not to be deterred I still hold money for my own food over the counter.

Her laugh is loud and full of amusement. “Let him pay, a free lunch is a free lunch.” Ringing up the food and drinks she passes him his change, then rolls her eyes as he pushes it all into the tip jar beside the cash register.

Penn plays with the ends of my hair as we wait, I can feel him watching me, but I stare ahead, forcing my attention to stay on Bonnie as she scurries around making drinks and toasting sandwiches.

“You can’t ignore me forever, Kitten,” he whispers against my ear, pushing my hair out of the way so I can feel his hot breath against my skin.

“I can try,” I mutter.

“But why bother? You’re mine and I’m yours, there’s no point fighting the inevitable. Let me take you to dinner, then after I can show you how good it is to be owned by me. I’ll make your little kitty drool for me. I’ll make her sore and swollen with my fat dick, then lick her better with my tongue. I’ll make you drunk on the pleasure I can give you.”

“No thanks,” I force out, my voice shakier than I’d like as I fight the full body shudder that tries to escape in reaction to his lust drenched words.

Pulling me a little closer into him, his fingers slide from my shoulder and along my collarbone until they wrap loosely around my throat. I’ve never experimented with breath play but he’s not trying to restrict my breathing, his touch is purely possessive and I hate how much I like it. How is it possible that this guy, this stranger is hitting all of my buttons, like he’s reading how to turn me on straight out of my own personalized user manual?

“I don’t want you to touch me,” I say, making a half-hearted attempt to remove myself from his control.

“Liar. Your pupils are dilated, your breaths are ragged and your nipples are hard. I’d lay money on the fact that your little kitty is wet and your panties are all sticky and coated in want. You might not like how much you want me right now, but it’s a lie to say that you don’t. I bet you’re standing there wondering how I know exactly what to do to make you all needy and horny. It’s because you’re mine, every cell and molecule in your body and mind was made especially for me. You were made for me and I was made for you. My dick will stretch you out in the perfect way, my fingers will know exactly how to stroke you, how to fuck your kitty to make you squirt your want all over me, and my tongue will know exactly how to lick you to make you all clean again. Fight it all you want, run, scratch, bite, but ultimately you’ll be beneath me, your legs parted and my dick slamming inside of you while you beg me for more.”

Oh my god. Swallowing past the heavy, thick lump of desire that’s lodged in my throat I shake my head, needing to deny his words, even though they’re entirely true.

“That’s okay, Kitten, I know this is a lot to take in. I’ll take it easy on you, let you get used to being mine. But make no mistake, you belong to me, you’re mine and I plan to claim you in every way possible.”

I sink my teeth down into my bottom lip, trying to stem the tide that’s rising inside of me and threatening to burst forth in a moan of want. I’m grateful when Bonnie reappears with our food and drinks. She takes in my appearance and the way Penn’s fingers are still spread around my neck, and smirks.

“Take this and give me a call later,” she says, handing me a slip of paper with her cell number on. Oh, and welcome to the family.” Winking at me, she smiles widely as Penn releases me and picks up our food, holding it in one hand while he guides me out the shop with his free hand planted on the base of my spine.

Neither of us speaks as we make the short walk back to my building, where he opens the door for me and follows me inside. Wordlessly he follows me to my office, then sinks into the chair in front of my desk, pulling our food out of the bag and placing mine in front of me as I sit behind my computer. The wood between us should make me feel better, but somehow his penetrating gaze and knowing eyes seem to be more impactful with the slight distance separating us.

“What’s your surname, Lulu?”

“Sullivan,” I offer, lifting my coffee to my lips and taking a drink.

“How old are you?”

“How old are you?” I throw back at him.

“Thirty-two.”

“I’m twenty-four,” I admit reluctantly.

“Where do you live?”

As if I’m going to tell my stalker where I live. Rolling my eyes, I scoff lightly. “In a house.”

“I can find out on my own, it just makes more sense for you to tell me.” He smiles, taking a bite of his sandwich, his piercing eyes assessing me.

“My mama always told me not to talk to strangers.”

“I’m not a stranger, I’m your man. But if you don’t want to tell me your address that’s fine, you’ll be moving in with me anyway.”

I laugh, I can’t help it. Who the fuck is this guy? I’ve never met anyone so confident and self- assured in my life. “Yeah, no. That’s not going to be happening.”

“It is. I’d like you in my bed tonight, but I can see that’s probably not going to happen. That’s okay, we can stay at your place for a couple of days.”

“I like you better when you’re not talking, the shit that comes out of your mouth pisses me off but when you’re silent I can just look at the pretty. Go back to silent.”

A laugh bursts from his lips as he throws his head back, the sound warm and full of joy. I can feel my resolve softening toward him, even though I shouldn’t even be contemplating this ridiculousness with him.

The door to Janet’s office bursts open and she storms into the room in a cloud of Chanel perfume and expensive clothes. Her eyes quickly assess the room, taking in me behind my desk and a laughing Penn in the chair in front of it.

“Mr. Barnett,” she says, her lips tightly pressed together in an angry, flat line.

“Miss Janet, how are you today?” Penn asks, managing to sound cordial, despite Janet’s icy demeanor.

“Good thank you. You’ve met my new paralegal, Lucile.”

I explained to Janet when I briefly met her that I go by Lulu, so the fact that she’s using my real name speaks volumes about how much she dislikes me already.

“I have, Lulu’s my girlfriend. I hope you don’t mind that I decided to join her for lunch.”

Penn’s being painfully polite, I don’t know what’s between them, but there’s obviously history of some kind.

“Of course, enjoy your lunch. Lucile, I’ve emailed you with more tasks that I need completing before the end of the day.” Janet turns on her heel and storms back into her office, closing the door with an ominous thud.

“An ex?” I ask curiously. Although I don’t think she is, because the tension between them doesn’t feel sexual, more distasteful.

“Hell no. She was pretty hung up on my eldest brother a while back, she made a pass and he turned her down. Since then, she decided to hate on our entire family. She doesn’t seem like your greatest fan either.”

“I only met her once briefly before today, but apparently I’m her twelfth paralegal in the last three months, so I don’t think it’s personal.”

“I should probably let you get back to work, you ready to give me your number yet?”

“No,” I say with an exasperated smile.

“Okay, I’ll be waiting.”

With that, he grabs the rest of his food and leaves my office without a backward glance. Who the hell is this guy? He’s sweet one minute, an asshole the next, and seems to genuinely believe that I’m his now and that all this love at first sight crap is true.

I’ll never say it out loud, but I don’t hate the way it feels when he puts his arm around my shoulder. I can still feel phantom tingles from his palm on the base of my spine and wrapped possessively around my throat. I’d totally fuck him and I’d enjoy it. But sex with random strangers isn’t a part of my life, at least not for a while.

I’ve never been exactly promiscuous, but girls have needs too. After I swore off relationships in college, I’ve been known to indulge in a little late-night bootie with guys in bars and clubs, but it’s always been careful fun with no one getting any expectations or their feelings hurt.

In a town this small, with a guy like Penn, a no strings hook-up is a seriously bad idea. I don’t have the time or the capacity to deal with him, especially when my life has to be all about the most important thing, the only thing that matters.

Swiping my mouse across the desk, I bring my computer back to life, click into my email and peruse the huge to do list Janet has sent me. Sighing, I roll my eyes. Most of the stuff she’s asked me to do are menial tasks like copying and filing, apart from the last ten items, all of which have been emailed across since she stomped back into her office. It’s clear that she’s trying to either get me to quit, punish me for having a Barnett in my office, or testing my mettle. Either way I need this job, so I take a bite of my bagel, a sip of my coffee, and get to work.

By the time Dave pokes his head through the office door, my eyes are swimming from exhaustion, but I’ve finished all of Janet’s tasks and emailed her the research she requested and will never, ever use.

“Hey sweetie, it’s five thirty, you ‘bout finished?”

“Yep, all done, I’m just closing down my computer.”

“I didn’t hear any shouting, does that mean you’re coming back tomorrow?” he asks hopefully.

I laugh. “I’m coming back, although based on the stuff she had me do today, I have a feeling it might be an interesting first week.”

“Let me guess, she had you doing virtually impossible research and tasks that aren’t your responsibility and you’re far too over qualified to do?”

I smile and nod, then shrug. “It’s fine, I need this job.”

“I heard Taylor say you went to Harvard Law, what the hell are you doing here as a paralegal?”

“I was studying for the bar exam when something unexpected happened. I’ll take the bar eventually, but for now I got my paralegal certificate and here I am.”

“Well, I for one am glad to have you. Let’s go before she tries to get you to stay late waxing her legs or something.” Dave shudders, then chuckles.

Grabbing my purse, I cross the room to the door and follow Dave out, stumbling to a stop when I see Penn waiting by the door, a broad smile on his face, his arms crossed across his huge chest.

“You done for the day, Kitten?”

“How are you still here, don’t you have a job?”

“Course I have a job; I co-own the best garage in town with my brother.”

“And he doesn’t care that you wasted the day being my stalker?” I quip.

“Nope, he offered to come keep me company,” he winks.

Blinking, I stare at his smug, amused expression. “Wow. Okay, er, whatever, I need to get going. It’s been… well it’s been weird being stalked by you today, have a nice life.”

Dave snickers as I march toward the door, ducking underneath Penn’s arm as he holds it open for me. Not looking back, I walk around the building and out to the parking lot at the rear, stalling when I reach my car to root through my purse for the keys. Normally I have them ready to go, but Penn’s presence has thrown me for a loop.

I’m half expecting him to turn up at the passenger door, or to be standing behind me when I turn around. Only he’s not, and a part of me is a little disappointed. How messed up is that? I’m disappointed that the guy who’s been stalking me all day has stopped. Shaking my head at myself I climb into my car, start the engine, and reverse out of the space and off the lot.

Chloe’s house is in a pretty suburb about ten minutes out of town, I could probably walk, but I’m lazy and I hate walking in heels, so commuting it is. Unlike this morning I don’t hit any traffic, the small town is quiet, with a handful of people milling around the streets. It’s March and the tourists who were in the mountains for the snow have all left, and the ones who come for the pretty mountain lakes and views are yet to arrive.

After the constant bustle of Chicago, I quite like the slower pace of life that exists here, I’m not sure I’ll want to stay forever, but for now this is the right place for me to be. Chloe’s cute craftsman style house sits on a small plot, with neighbors on either side. Her gardens are her pride and joy and mature trees and bushes cover the small front yard. She’s the envy of her not quite so green fingered neighbors and even though I’ve only been living here for a week, this house is already starting to feel like home.

Chloe is my mom’s best friend, they met in college and lived together for three years in New York once they graduated. From the stories I’ve heard, they were quite the cosmopolitan girls about town.

They stayed close after Mom met my dad, and they remained that way when my parents got married and years later had me. Chloe is my godmother but she’s as close as an auntie would be if I had any. She moved out of the city when she met her husband Wade, they have two kids Roxanne and James. They moved to Rockhead Point when I was a child after Chloe’s mom died and left her the house in her will. She’s lived here ever since, although her and Wade divorced and he now lives with his twenty-two-year-old secretary in Wyoming.

Roxanne is a couple of years older than me and despite how close I am with her mom, me and her have never really gotten on. She’s one of those pretty girls, who thinks all other women are a threat. From what I understand, her entire focus in life is finding a rich husband and being taken care of. We don’t exactly have a lot in common.

James, on the other hand, is an absolute sweetheart. He’s six months older than me and even though we haven’t seen that much of each other in the last few years, we speak on the phone at least once a week. He’s living in England, doing his doctorate at Oxford University, he’s a total geek, but I still love him.

Pulling my car onto the driveway behind Chloe’s, I exhale and try to leave all the stress of my weird day behind me. Since my life changed, I’ve had to shake off the shackles of living to work and try to refocus on the important things. It’s been an adjustment I wasn’t expecting, but I wouldn’t change the outcome.

I don’t notice the car on the other side of the street until I’m closing my door behind me and locking my car.

“You’re living with Chloe?”

I spin around and see Penn crossing the street, mounting the sidewalk as he closes the distance between us in long, confident strides.

“Did you follow me home?” I shriek.

“You didn’t really think I was just going to walk away, did you?” His expression is amused, like him not stalking me is a ridiculous notion.

“You need to go, this is really getting to be a bit much now,” I exhale, a tendril of fear curving up from my toes and working its way upwards.

“I wasn’t stalking per-se, I wanted to make sure you got home okay, with you being new to town and all. But you haven’t answered my question, you’re living with Chloe Mason?”

“You know her?” I ask, then roll my eyes at myself. “Of course you know her.”

The front door opens and my breath catches in my lungs as I hear the sweet voice of my godmother. She’s cooing and talking in low whispers as she steps out of the front door and toward us.

“Look who’s home,” she sings as she steps beside me.

I reach out without thought and take the squirming baby from her arms. Chubby hands instantly reach for my face, and I giggle and I pretend to nip at the tiny fingers.

“Penn?” Chloe asks confusedly.

“Hey Mrs. Mason, whose is the baby?”

He must have figured it out by now, but I turn anyway, smiling down at the world’s most perfect baby in my arms. “This is my daughter, Poppy.”