“This is almost as much fun as having a grandchild of my own living here. This old house needs some life and laughter, and you need something to distract you from those silly old computers.”

“Wait a minute.” He raised his hands as if to ward off her words. “No one said anything about moving in. I’m going to meet Christie-”

“Christie. Is that her name? I couldn’t hear everything you two were saying.”

“Next time we’ll talk louder,” he said dryly.

Kiki ignored him. She released his arms, patted his face, then spun away and began making plans. “I’ll make some fresh cookies,” she said, and held out her left index finger. “Then lemonade.” The second finger went out. “Maybe ice cream. Hmm, I wonder if there’s time. Maybe if I start now, it will be finished by the time they come back. What time was that?”

“Two.”

She paced in front of him, a fuchsia-colored dynamo. “All those sweets might make her sick. Maybe some finger sandwiches.” She glanced up and grinned. The wrinkles around her eyes deepened. Kiki smiled a lot.

“I’ll think of something,” she said. “Trust me.” With that, she hurried toward the kitchen.

Parker watched her go. He glanced down at the picture in his hand. He was going to meet his daughter…the child he never knew he’d had. Stacey hadn’t told anyone he was the father. He couldn’t blame her, not after the way he’d treated her. No doubt she’d assumed he wouldn’t care.

Parker tucked the photo into his shirt pocket, then started for his office. The faint banging of pots and pans drifted through the house. Kiki would be so busy with her preparations, she would probably forget his lunch.

He stepped into his custom-designed workroom. He had three hours until Erin and Christie would arrive. He could work on the program that was giving him so much trouble. Instead he crossed to the wide windows and stared out at the ocean. He had the sensation of free-falling off a cliff. In a matter of moments, his whole life had changed.