4. Jett Lane

Iwatched her walk into the living room, but it was obvious she hadn't noticed me on the couch. She had her earbuds in and was probably listening to something like Lana Del Ray or Taylor Swift, if I knew her the way I did. Her eyes skimmed the room, and when they returned to where I was sitting, she jumped.

"Jesus," she squeaked, pulling her headphones out and gracefully slipping them into her jean pocket. "What is it with you guys today trying to scare me today?"

"I was just sitting here." I lifted my arms up innocently, and she blushed.

"I know." She pressed her lips together. "I guess I'm a little jumpy." She cleared her throat. I could see something working behind her eyes. "I thought everyone had left for work."

"We always say goodbye to you, don't we?" I sat back, trying to give her the illusion that nothing was wrong. Not that it was. Not really. I was just on edge. I was always on edge when I was lucky enough to be left in the house alone with her. It was heaven and hell all wrapped up in a sinfully delicious bow.

Especially since we had stupidly agreed we wouldn't touch her.

But that was coming to an end.

Soon.

"You do, but…" She breathed in and stepped closer. Her hands clasped together, and she sighed. "I'm actually glad you're not gone yet," she said softly, and when our eyes locked, I knew I wasn't going to like whatever she was going to say.

"Mr.—"

"Jett. I'm just Jett. Mr. Lane was my father."

"Jett." My fucking dick started to rise to attention at the sound of my name coming from her lips. "I wanted to apologize."

Yup. I was right. I really wasn't going to like what she was going to say. Fucking, Mal and his stupid mouth!

"I'm sorry if I have ever made you feel uncomfortable." Jesus Christ.

"Rosie—"

"No, please." She raised a gentle hand. It was a fucking struggle not to stand from where I sat. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare, and just so you know, I would never think of accusing you of sexual harassment. This is your home, and how you wish to walk around is your right and?—"

"Okay, Rosie." I groaned and sat straighter, leaning forward to rest my elbows on my knees. "Can you please come over here." I pointed at the chair in front of me.

Fuck, what I wouldn't do to have her sit on that damn chair wearing nothing but a sexy little sundress? Have her lift her legs to settle the soles of her feet at the edge and show me every inch of her. To sit there for me like a good girl, so I could kneel in front of her and play what I knew without having seen it was the prettiest little cunt to ever exist. I'd tease and play with my girl. And she'd call out for daddy.

"Jett?" Her voice cut through my dirty thoughts, and I shook my head.

"I'm sorry. Can you sit, please?" I asked again, and to my surprise, she did. Rosie sat primly on the edge of the chair with her back ram-rod stiff, her hands resting on her lap. "I'm sorry Malcom was in such a shitty mood this morning. It wasn't you, and we all know you would never do that. That being said, if my nudity ever makes you uncomfortable, please let me know, and I will toss on a shirt."

"Okay," she answered softly.

"This is our home, but it is also yours, Rosie," I reminded her. Her brown eyes widened, and before she could start to argue with me about being our employee, I cut her off. "It is." I didn't leave any room for argument. "Honey, you live here almost all week." I ignored the term of endearment that slipped, and I could see her start to overthink.

"Jett—"

"That's my girl." I winked. "Can you do me a favor and relax today?" She looked like a fish out of water.

"I can't do that!"

"Why not?" My lips twitched, and her gaze dropped to my mouth before reconnecting with mine.

"I have work to do, or it will pile up." I loved how she looked at me like she thought I was crazy. Maybe I was, but it was only because she had driven me to madness. I breathed in, and I could make out the slight scent of apples and pears that seemed to dance around her.

"Fine," I sighed. Soon enough, if Casey and I got our way, shit would change. "But I'm having lunch and dinner delivered. You are not cooking today."

"You really don't have to do that."

"I want to." She blinked. "You had to clean up after Coop's stupid shenanigans."

"It wasn't that big of a deal."

"It wasn't your job to have to clean up after him."

"You guys all seem to be really hard on him," she noted softly. Of course, she would. Rosie was sassy but had a soft side. A sweet side that called to me. A sweetness I had never craved.

"You haven't met him," I mumbled. "The kid needs to grow up, and fast."

"I don't know, I mean…" She paused, and I could see her trying to form the right words. I knew her. She didn't want to butt in. She had no idea there was no way she could overstep. She was ours, and we were hers. Even if Mal hadn't agreed yet. "From what you guys have said, he seems pretty grown up," she observed, and I frowned. That wasn't what I had expected her to say. Not even close.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean… he lost his parents and then had to live at boarding schools."

"They were the best schools money could pay." I winced inwardly. I couldn't believe I was defending Malcom's decisions when it came to his nephew, not that we hadn't grown up very much the same way. It was at boarding school where we had met.

"Maybe, but living through a loss like that isn't easy." She shrugged. "When my mom… then my dad…" She cleared her throat. "All I had was my sister. It's kind of jarring, you know?"

"I do." And I did. I was alone in the world without the parents who had made me.

My biological father, Trapper Lane, living rock and roll legend, might have still been breathing, but the man was a stranger to me. One who had hooked up with one too many groupies and didn't feel the need to glove up. My mother had been an old money socialite who had decided to keep me when she'd turned up knocked up, much to my socialite grandparents' dismay.

Unfortunately, a car accident had claimed her life when I'd turned seven. Much like Cooper, I'd been put in a boarding house and had been the dirty little secret my grandparents tried tirelessly to keep under wraps until they passed away.

Thankfully for me, I had met Casey and Mal, and we had become one another's family.

"I don't know. I'm probably speaking out of turn. Not that I don't agree he should have asked for permission first, but maybe he thought he would have been able to clean up before you guys returned?"

"Maybe. Either way, you're too sweet, Rosie."

"Haha," she chuckled. "I don't think my niece and nephew would agree with you after this weekend." She bit back a clear yawn.

"Oh?" It piqued my interest, but then again, what about Rosie didn't?

"Betsy and Mike were sick all weekend. They picked up some kind of bug at the daycare center. Anyhow, my sister had to work, and I watched them, right?" I nodded, completely engrossed and leaning in closer, captivated by her story. "These kids are a handful normally, but sick, they like to push their limits. Get their way with everything."

"What kid doesn't?"

"Right!" Her pretty lips pulled upward, and my eyes dropped to her beauty mark. One I wanted to kiss and lick and bite. "Anyhow, they are obsessed with this new Disney movie, and it was great, don't get me wrong, but about after the four hundredth time, Tia Rosie had to watch something else."

"Uh oh. I bet they didn't like that." My lips twitched. I could see her sitting on a couch with two maybe three kids sprawled out on her with a sleepy, content look on their faces, because no matter what, they'd know they were loved and safe. Rosie would be that kind of mom. But the kids I was imagining looked a lot like the four of us. All of them would have her beautiful brown eyes and some other features of each of us.

We'd give her that. A family. No. She would gift us with that.

"Oh no, they didn't." She chuckled, "You would think I was a real-life ogre," she teased and looked away.

"How are they feeling now?" I didn't know shit about kids, but I'd learn. For her, I would do anything.

"Fever broke," she shared softly. "And my sister has the next three days off, so by the time she has to go back to work, they should be okay and allowed back at the daycare."

"Kids are a handful, aren't they?" I said like I had a clue.

I didn't.

I just knew how I used to be when I was younger. Always getting into trouble and making one mess after another. Probably because I had been starving for any kind of affection. I'd never thought about kids until she walked into our lives. The image of her round and glowing with my child, no, our child, was so clear it felt like a punch to the gut in a really good way.

"They are." She nodded. I couldn't help but study her a little closer. She was tired. I could tell by the circle under her eyes and the way she held her body, like all she really wanted was a nap. And thanks to Mal's nephew, a nap was the last thing she had been able to have. She"d walked into a house that had been hit by some kind of fraternity tornado. I had never been happier about staying up and cleaning the messes I'd found last night.

"Do you want kids?" I found myself stupidly asking. The question slipped past my lips before I could stop it. Her eyes rose, and she bit her bottom lip before smiling tightly.

"I don't know." Why would she? Rosie was still really fucking young. At twenty-eight, she was eleven years younger than the three of us. Probably too young for us, but fuck if we would give her up. Even if Mal didn't agree to our idea, I knew Casey and I couldn't give her up.

No, Rosa Flores was ours.

She just didn't know it yet.

Malcom would get on board. I'd make sure of it.

"I used to think they weren't in the cards for me," she started to share, and I froze, afraid that if I even took a breath, it would frighten her. But she simply kept sharing, and fuck me, I loved it. I love her. I love her with every part of my being. "But then, seeing my sister and the way she is with them, the way they are with her… even when they're terrors and—" She giggled. " I love them, but trust me, they can be. I don't know. I guess I'm not opposed to the idea. What about you?"

"I, umm…" I cleared my throat. "I was the same. I never wanted kids. Once a, umm…" I scratched the back of my neck. I couldn't believe I was about to share this. "A friend I used to have in college?—"

"A friend?" Her lips twitched, and that little birth mark by her lip rose slightly, s if she wanted to laugh or found me amusing.

"A good friend. Close one." She really hadn't been. We'd been fuck buddies. We'd used one another to burn off stress and try to relax during finals week one year, but I couldn't tell Rosie that. "Well, she thought she was…" I shrugged and frowned. "It was a terrifying thought back then. Scariest week of my life."

"I bet." She nodded. I could see her curiosity piquing, and when she asked, I breathed out. "And now?" Without my eyes moving from hers, my hand reached for hers, and the pads of my fingers brushed the tops.

"Now, I think I'd be ready for anything with the right woman," I admitted and waited for something inside of me to tell me I was full of shit.

Kids? Me as a dad?

I'd thought about it for six months. The thought had been visceral. Primal. Breeding Rosie was one of those dirty fantasies I'd replayed in my head, but talking to the one and only woman I had ever thought about carrying my child?

It didn't change my mind.

It only made things feel right.

More than right. It felt meant to be.

"Well." She licked her lips and pulled her hand away from mine. "I'm sure she will be a lucky lady."

"One day." I nodded. "So, we're good?"

"Always, boss." She winked and turned before I scowled. Boss. I didn't like that. I wanted her to call me something else. Something darker and more dominating.

I shook the thought away and wondered for the hundredth time if it was something Casey and Mal thought about, too. We had played with women together in the past. We were members of one of the most exclusive clubs in the city that money could buy. The three of us were as different as morning, noon, and night, but we had something very big in common behind closed doors.

Actually, we had a lot in common behind closed doors.

I just hoped that was something she could get into.

I turned around and glanced at Rosie. She had already gone back to cleaning the room. She must have felt my eyes on her because for a split second, our eyes connected, and I felt it. There was no way I could feel what I felt, what I knew the three of us felt, when she looked at us and not have her feel the same.

"Have a good day." She waved. Her dark eyelashes batted slowly, and I swear time slowed. Oh yeah, I could see her being into the same things we liked.

She would be our good girl.

Our princess.

And we'd be her daddies.

I nodded and walked out because I couldn't trust the words that might slip past my lips. I was growing impatient.

Mal had to agree, because our baby girl needed us.