Page 56 of Jasper

Rowie’s voice softens. “Do you want to be her forever Daddy?”

My answer is immediate. “Yeah. I do.”

I may have told her we would have a temporary arrangement, but I don’t think I meant it when I offered it. Ariana isn’t temporary. Not for me. And not for my family.

Rowie smiles, but there’s something behind it—something wistful that tugs at me. A flicker of longing in her big eyes, like she’s trying to be happy but feeling something deeper. I make a mental note to talk to Theo later. Just in case. He’s more involved in Rowie’s day-to-day stuff, so he usually knows when something is going on with her.

Before I can ask her more, Ariana walks in, her eyes lighting up when she sees us. She starts to say something, but I open my arms instead.

“Come here, rainbow girl.”

She crosses the room without hesitation and lowers herself to the floor, then climbs right into my lap, nestling into my chest like it’s the most natural thing in the world. My arms come around her automatically.

Rowie grins and holds up the book she was reading. “Now you have to read to us. It’s a rule.”

I arch a brow. “A rule, huh?”

She nods. “Mmhm. If you come into the tree, it’s a requirement.”

I take the book from her, shooting her a playful glare, then open it to the first page.

“All right,” I say, my voice dropping to that story-time cadence I haven’t used in way too long. “Let’s see what kind of trouble this bunny gets into.”

And just like that, the three of us spend the afternoon reading in the tree trunk until eventually, each one of us falls asleep.

* * *

Later that evening, I settle onto the couch and pat the seat next to me. Ariana wanders over from the kitchen, still barefoot and wearing one of my oversized T-shirts and a pair of her new leggings, her hair twisted up in a messy bun. All the new clothes I got her are adorable, but seeing her in my clothes makes my dick harden.

“You’ve got that serious look on your face,” she notices as she flops down beside me. “Are we going to talk about taxes because I can’t help you with that?”

I smirk. “No taxes. Just rules.”

Her eyes widen slightly. “Rules?”

“Yep.”

She tilts her head. “Is this the part where you go full boss Daddy mode and tell me I can’t have sweets after eight or I need permission to pee?”

I chuckle, surprised by how much I like her sass. “Not quite. These aren’t control-you rules. They’re take-care-of-you rules. Though at times, there will be control-you rules.”

Her expression softens, but she still narrows her eyes like she’s waiting for the fine print.

I rest my arm across the back of the couch, angling toward her. “Rule number one—safety. It’s a big rule and it covers a lot of things, but basically, if you know it’s not safe or it doesn’t feel safe, don’t do it. My job is to keep you safe, but I can’t have eyes on you every second of the day, so I need you to make good choices so I can breathe easy. Got it?”

She nods. “Okay. That’s fair.”

“Rule two—sleep. Eight hours. If you’re sick, you’ll need more. If I catch you sneaking around the house at two a.m. doing who-knows-what, you’re getting tucked back in whether you like it or not. Probably after you get a spanking.”

She bites her bottom lip, fighting a grin. “So what I’m hearing is I’m going to be forcibly spanked then snuggled.”

“If necessary,” I deadpan. “Brat.”

She laughs softly, and it hits me how easy she’s making this. How natural.

“Rule three,” I continue, “no leaving the property without telling me or one of my brothers. I need to know you’re safe, always. That includes running errands or going for walks. Anything.”

“Noted. No secret solo missions.”

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