“Heath!” Molly’s voice emerged from a pool of gowns, sequins, and little girls. “Keep your eye on Pippi till we get everybody dressed, will you?”

“My pleasure.” He looked down at the kid.

The kid looked up at him.

He studied her gumball eyes and pink tiara.

She scratched her arm.

He searched his brain and finally came up with something. “Anybody ever teach you how to use a calculator?”

The squeals emanating from the direction of the gown box grew louder. Pippi tipped her chin to get a better view of him, and her tiara scooted farther back on her head. “You got some bubbles?”

“What?”

“I like bubbles.”

“Uh-huh.”

Her eyes darted to his pockets. “Where’s your phone?”

“Let’s go see how your mother’s doing.”

“I wanna see your phone.”

“Give me back my old one first, and then we’ll talk.”

She grinned. “I luvvvv phones.”

“Tell me about it.”

Last month when he’d dropped by the Tucker house, he’d been left alone with their little adorable for a few minutes. She’d demanded to see his cell. It was a brand-new state-of the-art five-hundred-dollar Motorola equipped with enough peripherals so he could basically run his business from it, but he hadn’t seen the harm. Just as he’d handed it over, however, Kevin had called from the other room asking Heath to look at a piece of game film, and that was the last he’d seen of it.

He’d managed to get her alone before he’d left and tried to cross-examine her, but all of a sudden the kid no hablo-ed the inglés. As a result, he’d lost a couple of dozen important e-mails and the final notes on a new contract. Later, Bodie had said Heath should have just told Kevin what had happened, but Kevin and Molly were starry-eyed when it came to their kids, and Heath couldn’t imagine saying anything they could interpret as criticism of their little darling.

She stomped a foot in the grass. “Wanna see phone now.”

“Forget it.”

She screwed up her face. Oh, shit, she was going to cry. He knew from past experience that the tiniest sound of dismay coming from her moppet’s mouth sent Molly’s head spinning. Where the hell was Annabelle? He whipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out his newest cell. “I’ll hold it while you look.” He knelt at her side.

She made a grab. “I wanna hold it.”

Heath would never for a moment have let it go—he wasn’t that stupid—but Annabelle chose that particular instant to make her appearance, and he was so surprised by what he saw that he lost track.

A queen of England–size crown nestled in her wild tumble of curls, and she wore a long silvery gown. Shimmering rhinestones sprinkled the fluffy skirt, and a wisp of silver netting framed her bare shoulders. As she walked onto the grass, the sun struck her from every direction, setting her hair on fire and striking sparks in the rhinestones. No wonder the shrieking little girls fell silent. He was fairly awestruck himself.