I followed her out, noting that just looking at Ryan, standing there in a plain gray tee untucked from his jeans, was enough to make my heart skip a beat. “Marie, what say we make a bet?”

She turned, confused at first, before she caught on. “What kind of bet, Taryn?”

“First woman to fold.”

Mike barked out a hearty laugh.

I put on my most confident smirk, even though I was actually quite tired. “I’ve got two hundred in cash. Men can keep the time.”

Ryan drummed his hands on the raised bar. “Yes! Now we’re talking. I like where your head’s at, hon.”

Marie whipped her head around, looking for some support from Mike. I knew she didn’t have two hundred dollars on her but Mike’s reassuring nod said that he did.

Her long chestnut hair flew back around.

“You’re on.”

I slapped two hundred on the polished six-person dark mahogany dining table right next to Marie’s plate and kept walking. I knew I had lost so there was no point contesting it.

Mike started laughing to himself.

Ryan came out of our room, finger-combing his hair back. “Keep your comments to yourself, Murphy. She didn’t sleep at all the night before.”

I poured two cups of coffee, wishing I could mainline one right into my vein. Right after my second wonderful orgasm last night, I must have passed out. Let’s just say after coming, the last thing I remember was going.

Mike slipped the bills off the table, folded them nicely, and tucked them right into Marie’s cleavage. She smirked, wearing my money like a booby badge of honor.

The momentary laugh was not enough to keep me calm. My nerves were on edge from the moment I woke up. What will he look like? Will I see any of me when I look at him? Will he turn out to be a ginormous ass, making me regret my decision to meet him?

So many unanswered questions drew me away from the fun of losing our little contest.

I nearly sprang out of my skin when our room telephone rang later in the early afternoon. I knew the message even before Mike hung up. “They’re here. They’re being seated at the Chef’s Table down in the restaurant.” Ryan cupped my face in his hands; his thumbs skated over my cheeks while his concern-filled eyes bore into mine. “No matter what, I will not allow this day to end on a sad note. Things go good—we invite them back to the suite here. Things go south—after lunch they go and we put it behind us. Okay?”

I nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay, baby.” He leaned down and took my mouth, dotting his vow with a kiss.

It was hard to breathe; I was filled with so much trepidation, it was stifling. Ryan led the way, holding my hand the entire time, almost pulling me along. He walked with confidence, as always.

Those broad shoulders taking on my worry.

I noticed the two young girls first; their wide-eyed shock and amazement at seeing Ryan Christensen walking their way was almost comical. There was no doubt they recognized him since they were absolutely giddy with delight.

I don’t know why I was surprised when I saw Joe for the first time. Maybe it was because I had only seen him as a lean and lanky teen with hair as black as midnight, but this solid man with the Tim McGraw vibe was not what I had expected.

My eyes traveled from his broad shoulders and tall frame up to his closely shaved goatee and matching short brown hair. His cheeks were glowing with a bit of a summer tan showing everywhere. As I approached, his eyes crinkled when he widened his smile.

All of the air vacated my lungs when I took in his deep blue eyes, which were a spitting image of my own. That moment of finally having some familiar facial recogni-tion hit me hard, as if some force of nature had just slammed into my chest. I felt a sob bubble up and lodge in my throat.

Oddly, I had expected to meet someone older, considering he’d fathered me, but I had to remind myself that there were only sixteen years separating us. Joe was forty-four now but didn’t look old enough to have a daughter my age.

As Joe’s blue eyes scrunched, his hand tightened on his wife’s shoulder, and I noticed his lower lip start to quiver. He stepped around his wife to make his approach. I could see the tremors tweaking his muscles, causing his steps to be somewhat shaky.

Ryan tugged my hand and pulled me in front of his body; his fingertips nudged the small of my back, releasing me make this journey on my own.

“Oh my baby girl,” Joe stuttered out, sucking back his own sobs.

That’s when I lost my tenuous hold.

Hot tears of my own started to fall. I didn’t know this man from Adam, but something about him just felt so right. Next thing I knew, strong arms were surrounding me, his hand gripping the back of my head, burying my face into his chest.

“Twenty-eight years. I have never stopped thinking about you for twenty-eight years.

Thank you for giving me this,” Joe sputtered, keeping his voice low.

I nodded, unable to speak, feeling his pain, feeling his joy. I could only imagine what he must have gone through, having to give up his flesh and blood.

Joe took me by the shoulders, pressing me away from him a few inches. “Let me look at you some more. I can’t believe it. I thought . . .” He choked up. “I never thought this day would come.”

Knowing he was just as affected by this reunion as I was was a relief.

He drew in a short breath. “You look just like your mother, Taryn.”

I found myself nodding and agreeing with him, even though I’d never seen a picture of the woman who gave birth to me.

“I wish she was here to see you all grown but I’m sure she’s smiling down on us from heaven today.”

Joe tried to wipe the tear from my cheek, which made me automatically wipe my own face. “It’s nice to finally know where I got my eyes from.”

He smiled wider, making me wonder what else we had in common.

While I gave his wife, Jill, a hug, Ryan and Joe shook hands and exchanged greetings.

After a nice lunch, Ryan extended an invitation for them to come back to our suite.

Marie was doing a wonderful job keeping the two young girls entertained while Ryan and I sat with Joe and his wife to have a private conversation.

Joe appeared sincere but cautious. “I can only imagine how hard this must be on you, finding out like that. I was under the impression that your dad destroyed all the records.

I never thought he’d keep them.” I took a sip of my coffee, trying to disconnect myself a bit from the emotional overload. “He had it all together in a safe-deposit box.”

Joe nodded. “My letters and everything?” I set my cup down. “There was about two thousand dollars as well.”