bags of peanuts and a protein bar on his flight home. That was thirty-some-long-hours ago.
“Any more of that in the oven?” Emmitt asked.
“Nope.”
“How about an extra fork?”
Gray looked up. Zero amusement on his face. “If you’d called to tell us you were home, I would’ve made more.”
“Would you also have reminded me that the father-daughter dance is this month?” When the other two exchanged guilty looks, Emmitt added, “I got a note about needing a dress.”
“Would it have mattered if I had told you?” Gray asked. “You’re supposed to be on assignment for another few months.”
Jesus, was the guy serious?
“Hell, yeah, it would have mattered,” Emmitt said. “It’s the father-daughter dance. I’m her father. Therefore, I should have been informed about the dance since I’ll be the one taking her.”
Her name was Paisley Rhodes-Bradley, for Christ’s sake. Emmitt had first met Paisley’s mom when he’d moved to Rome in middle school. He was twelve, Michelle sixteen, and she was his best friend’s sister. But it wasn’t until Emmitt had come home from college, when those four years didn’t seem to make such a big difference anymore. Michelle was fresh out of a relationship and looking for a rebound, and Emmitt was looking to live out one of his childhood fantasies.
The timing seemed perfect.
All it took was one kiss and their fates were sealed. That kiss led to a sizzling-summer weekend spent together on a deserted strip of beach, sleeping in a tent and bathing in the Atlantic. They both knew it going in, the weekend was all they had, so they enjoyed every moment.
It wasn’t until six years later, when he was covering a subway bombing in Berlin, that he heard from Michelle again. She’d had a baby. And she was pretty confident Paisley was his.
When Paisley had been born, Michelle thought the father was her current boyfriend, leaving no reason to notify Emmitt. But after some lab work had proven that Paisley’s dad wasn’t the guy on the birth certificate, she’d e-mailed Emmitt immediately. He was on the first flight home, ring in his pocket, ready to do the right thing.
Only, Michelle already had a steady man in her life. Dr. Dreamboat had come onto the scene a few years earlier with a heartfelt drop to a single knee.
Not that it mattered. One look at those big brown eyes and adorable dimples and Emmitt didn’t need to wait for the test to come back. Without a doubt, that travel-sized pixie in soccer cleats and a grin that could heal the world was one hundred percent his.
Overnight, Emmitt had become daddy to a five-year-old little girl.
But Paisley was a package deal. She didn’t go anywhere without her mom and the two men in her life—Uncle Levi and Stepdad Grayson, who’d already staked a solid claim in her little world.
Since Emmitt was the last one to the table, he was still fighting for his rightful place in the family, and in Paisley’s life.
“If you’re going by that logic,” Gray explained, “then I’d like to go on record saying that since she introduces me as her father and you as her dad, I’m the most logical choice to take Paisley to the father-daughter dance.”
“Go on record?” Emmitt laughed. “This isn’t an autopsy, Doc. It’s my kid’s dance. And since my name’s on the birth certificate now, it blows your logic right out of the water.”
“So is mine,” Levi interrupted. “She’s a born-and-bred Rhodes. I’d also like to point out that I was around before any of you guys bothered to show up.”
To say his family situation was complicated was an understatement.
“Raise your hand if you changed a single diaper,” Levi went on.
Gray started to raise a hand, and Levi skewered him with a look. “Paisley’s diapers? Your patients don’t count.”
Grayson folded his arms across his chest.
“Ever do a late-night drive through town until she fell asleep?” He looked around. His was the only hand up. “No? How about an early morning feeding where she puked your sister’s breast milk all over your face? Snotted on your workshirt? Kicked you in the junk?”
All three hands went in the air at the last question.
Levi shook his head and gave an unimpressed huff. “She was already mobile by that point. That’s on you guys.” Levi put his hand down. “All I’m saying is that if anyone has a right to take Paisley to that dance, it’s me.”
“Like hell.” Gray stood, getting on his self-righteous soapbox. “It’s quality, not quantity. I’m the homework guy, the hold