A/N: I was thinking of changing the name of this story to Never Letting it Rain to mirror Spencer Bell's song titled the same. It's a beautiful song that you can find on his website: spencerbellmemorial(dot)com. What do you think? Anyway, happy reading.

Disclaimer: Twilight characters belong to Stephenie Meyer, not me.

There was a downpour when I finally got back to the hotel after work. Vera had driven me home, but I didn't have a ride to his house and knowing Vera knew Rosalie, I assumed she would think something was up when I asked her to drop me at her best friend's brother's house. I had an umbrella, so I could walk, but that wasn't the dilemma. What to wear?

I showered and fixed my hair into its messy natural wave before I chose a white cotton dress that had a low neckline and a pale peach belt. I slipped on a trench coat and ballet flats, not wanting to trip in the rain and break a heel. I took a look at his address. It was only a few blocks from the hotel, it wouldn't be that bad of a walk. Still…

Letting adrenaline take over, I just walked out the door, heading down the elevator and out the door. I popped open my dusty black umbrella and hopped onto the sidewalk. Lucky for me, about halfway there my umbrella broke and I was soaked. Nice, but I did have my trench coat that was soaked all the way through by the time I stepped on his walkway.

I hurried to the wrap-around porch and shivered as I heard a clap of thunder. All the lights were on in the pale yellow house. A few shrubs were spaced around his lawn for privacy, but the front was open to the public with three brilliantly large windows opening up to the street. It was an older, quaint house and the porch creaked with each shift of my weight from foot to foot. I hesitantly raised my fist to knock on the door and it came out as a weak thud.

I tried again and I heard it more clearly echo in the house. I stepped back, hugging my arms around myself as I tried to remind myself that I was angry with him. Hell, a walk in the rain to his house because he didn't call me back was reason enough to be pissed! Not to mention Annabelle. I jumped slightly when the door opened.

Jasper stood grinning in the doorway; flour caked on his auburn sweater, whose sleeves were rolled up to his elbows as if he'd been baking. I confirmed that assumption when I noted his hair was a mess; some kind of batter was on his cheek. His smiled immediately faded when he saw me. He stepped out onto the porch with me and sighed.

"Alice, what're you doing here?" his tone was disappointed, hushed. I shook from a mix of the anger and my clothes cold and soaking wet, clinging to my body.

"Oh, great, Jasper, nice to see you, too," I spat. "So is this what you do? Do you meet women at that bar a lot?"

"Alice, now's not a good time…" he began, his eyes begging for me to stop.

"So when is a good time? Because I've called you, left messages—you could have at least sent a text message back or anything, but you just wanted me to sit around waiting?" I said my voice growing to hysteria as I tried to stop the tears as my throat constricted. Jasper put his finger to his lips trying to get me to calm down as he reached his hands out pleadingly.

"Alice, please, if you could just wait for me to—"

"I've waited long enough for you to talk," I interrupted, stepping away from his hands. "You take all the girls to the beach, right? You take them all to the beach and bring them back to their place, spend the night, and then never talk to them again, am I right? Seriously, are you like every other guy? The gentleman shit was just a cover?"

"Alice, you don't understand. Can you just lower your voice and let me explain. I—" he requested, but I ignored him.

"I do understand, Jasper. It wasn't Rosalie that called when you were at my apartment. It was—"

Suddenly a young toddler with a mane of perfect Shirley Temple strawberry blonde curls latched onto Jasper's leg, sliding down to land on the porch. Jasper looked down and placed his hand on the top of her head and sighed, looking back up at me. "It was my daughter, Annabelle," he explained. Oh.

I opened my mouth to speak, but closed it again as Jasper picked up the young girl and I saw their eyes were perfect mirrors of one another's. "What did I tell you about running out the door, crazy girl?" Jasper asked with a smirk as he tickled her tummy. Annabelle squealed and her matching dimples were revealed. She wore a pale green dress with white Mary Jane's and had the same dirtied look her father wore.

And then her eyes looked at me and she leaned her head on Jasper's shoulder. "I'm Annabelle," she grinned an adorable toothy smile.

"Nice to meet you, Annabelle," I switched roles, trying my sweetest voice possible, though completely astonished. "I'm Alice."

She smiled before cupping her hand over Jasper's ear to whisper rather loudly, "Daddy, she's all wet." Jasper sighed and nodded.

"I noticed. What do you say we let Alice in to dry off, huh?" he whispered back and Annabelle shrugged, hopping down out of Jasper's arms and running into the house. Jasper opened the door wider for me to come inside and I left the mangled umbrella outside before cautiously crossing the threshold, waiting for a wife to pop out of the woodworks.

He shut the door behind me and I looked around. The foyer had an open air to it; pictures that Annabelle had drawn were put all over the wall, toys were strewn across the floor, and still there were the remnants of a bachelor pad underneath the baby blankets and father-items.

"Let me get you a change of clothes," Jasper offered, going into the other room. Annabelle followed him and I followed her into his bedroom, which was the epitome of bachelor pad. Not one stuffed animal had made its mark in his single man glory.

A queen-sized bed wasn't made, clothes scattered across the floor and old pictures of friends were scattered on tabletops. Books were piled in the corner of his room with notebooks and crumpled pieces of paper that missed the trashcan. I could see why Rosalie didn't want to stay here…

He took a sweatshirt from his dresser and took my coat. He left the room to cross the hall and put my coat in the dryer, taking Annabelle with him. I changed in his bedroom like he instructed and left the room in his oversized sweatshirt that came past my knees. I walked back out with my dress to see Annabelle sitting on top of the dryer, squealing in delight as it vibrated and bounced her up and down. Jasper hung my dress on the clothing line; it needed to be dry-cleaned anyway. I wrinkled my nose and looked toward the door on the left.

"Something's burning," I noted and Jasper's eyes shot to the door that I guessed was the kitchen before he groaned.

"Shit," he said, running into the other room, while correcting himself. "I meant 'shoot'!" I picked Annabelle off the dryer and placed her on the floor before she grabbed my hand and I followed her to the other room to find the kitchen filled with smoke, masking the cream-colored cabinets and checkered tiled floor. I took Annabelle's hand and ushered her away from the smoke. She didn't seem to be bothered.

Jasper took what was left of the cake and put it on the stove, opening a window to let the smoke escape. He sighed and tossed the potholders onto the countertop before he looked toward Annabelle and I. Annabelle was staring up at me in childish curiosity and I smiled slightly.

"You're pretty… and you smell like vanilla," she commented with the same goofy grin as her father.

"Well—thanks," I replied with a laugh. Jasper huffed out a laugh as well and crossed the room. He put his hand on the top of Annabelle's head and bent down to her level.

"Sorry, kiddo. I told you I couldn't bake like Aunt Rose," he sighed and Annabelle stuck her tongue out at him. He kissed her forehead and stood up with her in his arms. "But what do you say to some hot cocoa?" Annabelle nodded eagerly and I smiled slightly as he looked toward me. "Alice, you want some hot chocolate?"

"Yes, please," I said with a small smile. I awkwardly sat on the kitchen stool as Jasper put Annabelle on the countertop before grabbing a pan and boiling some hot cocoa on the stove.

Annabelle swung her legs off the counter and bounced up and down before her attention span ended and she looked toward me. "We were just watching cartoons," she said with a nod. "Daddy was trying to make me a cake, but he's not as good as Aunt Rose," she continued with an adorable lisp.

"He's not, huh?" I asked, leaning forward and propping my head up on my elbows. Jasper turned to watch Annabelle turn her body to me, crossing her legs and ignoring her father for a second. I smiled at how comfortable she was around me. It seemed easy for her.

"Nope," she agreed. "He's good at hot cocoa though." Jasper left the stove for a second to attack his daughter in tickles.

"Is that all, munchkin?" he growled with a laugh. She squirmed and fought against him, the small kitchen echoing with her giggles.

Soon enough we had our hot cocoa and went into the living room to finish watching cartoons, but Annabelle fell asleep in Jasper's lap before the hour ended. He went to put her to bed and I glanced around the room. There were pictures of Rosalie and who I guessed to be Emmett next to pictures of Annabelle on top of the television and coating the windowsill. Her toys were all over the floor including a sock monkey and a few dolls, which were ironically kept in perfect condition.

Jasper cleared his throat in the doorway and I looked toward him, standing up from the couch. I bit my lip and shifted nervously. I had come unannounced and accused him of—but then he had a daughter? Obviously he didn't want me to know…

"So you're a single dad?" I asked stupidly.

"Yep."

"Are you—married?" I asked again and he sighed, shaking his head.

"Divorced," he replied. "Maria walked out with another guy three months after she was born. Nice, huh?" he shook his head before continuing with his gaze at his feet. "Technically, she can come back and try to get custody, but I don't think walking out looks good in court, even if you're the mother."

"Why didn't you tell me?" I whispered and Jasper leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms and scoffing.

"Yeah because 'hi, my name's Jasper and I have a daughter' would get me anywhere in a conversation with anyone," he said with a humorless laugh. "You said you were here for a month and I didn't want her to meet someone who wouldn't stick around. She gets attached easily as you could probably tell."

"But—you didn't…" I couldn't think of anything to say. It made sense and I obviously ruined his plan to keep his daughter safe. I sighed, looking down defeated. "What about this weekend; who was with her?"

"My friends Peter and Charlotte stop by. Charlotte wants kids and is trying to win Peter over with the golden child as bait," he said with a roll of his eyes before he leaned off the wall and approached me, sitting on the couch and patted the space next to him. I sat down and he clenched his fists in his lap. "I'm a single dad—I play dress-up, have tea parties, bake cakes, and make forts during the week. When she goes to bed, I read cookbooks and I'm learning how to sew. For God's sake, I'm learning how to sew."

I smirked a bit and he paused. I put my hand over his fist to relax his hold. "Sometimes I take off the apron and glitter stickers to go out and my friends usually help. I need time to—stay sane. I juggle work with nail polish and arts and crafts while trying to do school work and keep her occupied—I don't want to be playing the single dad role anywhere, but at home. I don't want to earn your sympathy for this, I just—didn't want you to," he trailed off and shrugged. "I don't know why I didn't call you. You can add asshole to my list of things I am, I just didn't know how to—"

I covered his mouth with my hand and he met my gaze, "You done?" I asked with a smile and he nodded, his eyes relaxing and ridding themselves of their frantic craze. I lifted my hand and rested my forehead against his. For a second, I asked myself what was I getting into? I was here for a month; I could apologize and walk out. Then I remembered the piles of ice cream cartons and the empty feeling I felt when I hadn't seen him. I knew I was getting into something a lot bigger than what I had expected would be in Portland: love.

"You make awesome hot chocolate," I replied. Jasper rolled his eyes and laughed before pressing a kiss to my lips, cupping my cheek in his hand. We pulled back and I bit my lip, keeping close to him. "She's adorable, I don't know why you would hide her from anyone."

"That's what Rosalie said," he mused before his face scrunched up and he pulled back slightly. "She said she met an Alice last night, did you—"

"You missed a lot this week," I replied with a devilish smirk. He raised an eyebrow.

"Really? Tell me about it."

Congrats to Skylar87 and deltagirl74 who guessed correctly: Annabelle is Jasper's daughter! Cause who doesn't love a single daddy? What do you win? Um, a couple more chapters and a virtual cookie? Yeah... :-) Review?