Chapter Nineteen
London
I sit on the edge of the armchair and watch the flames dance in the fireplace. I stand up and pace, pausing every so often. Each time I don’t hear Mason’s familiar footsteps, another flash of disappointment courses through me. With a sigh, I rake my hand through my hair and begin to pace again.
But no amount of movement can help me outrun my thoughts or the panic growing steadily inside of me.
It’s been two days since I told Mason.
Two days of tossing and turning and reaching for him across the bed to find it empty.
Two days of feeling like I’m banging against a brick wall, begging for him to let me in.
I have no idea what’s going to happen next, and I am terrified.
I lie awake at night imagining going back to my old life, to hours spent on my feet in the diner and trudging home to an empty bed, and a Mason-sized hole in my heart. I try to picture myself bringing a crib into my childhood room and spending my days soothing and shushing, and I can’t do it.
I don’t want to do any of it without Mason.
So how are you going to make him be there, huh? He’s made his feelings clear, so unless you plan on forcing him to be present, there’s not a damn thing you can do.
All I can do is yearn and hope, even though I have no idea what I’m praying for.
Do I want Mason to turn his back on everything he’s known?
Do I want to stay and build some semblance of a life with him?
Do I want to raise my baby in the eye of the storm, knowing they’ll never be safe?
I don’t realize I’m crying until I touch a hand to my face, and it comes back wet.
With a frown, I lower my hand and stare out the window.
My throat is tight with emotion as I make myself turn away.
When I stop in front of the fireplace, I think I see myself in the flames, clutching a baby in my arms as I run.
I blink and see Mason standing between us and a gun.
His life is already chaotic enough. Imagine adding a baby to all of that. But you know that if he decides to stick by you and the baby, he won’t go back on his word.
I have no idea if it’ll wind up getting him killed.
My breath catches at the thought as I lower myself into the armchair and bury my face in my hands.
For a while, I sit there, replaying my options over and over in my head.
Slowly, I find myself falling asleep. Sometime later, when I hear a low murmur of voices outside the door, I bolt upright in the chair.
Breathe. Just breathe, London. You can do this.
The door clicks open, and I know it’s Mason.
I can smell him from where I’m sitting, and every nerve in my body is aware of him, yearning for his touch.
Ignoring the ache in my chest, I find Mason standing behind his desk, an empty glass clutched in his hand.
His stormy eyes tighten when I look at him.
Then, just as slowly, he reaches for the decanter behind him and pours a generous amount of whiskey.
Mason stares at me, and the rest of the world fades away.
When he looks at me like that, I almost forget how to breathe.
Mason steps out from behind the desk, and everything slows down as he crosses the distance between us. When he stops in front of me and places a hand on the armchair, my body hums with energy at the joy of being so close to him.
“Was there something you wanted to tell me?”
I blink and drag my gaze up to his. “What do you mean?”
Mason folds his arms over his chest and tilts his head to study me. “You’re in my office.”
I swallow and nod. “Yes.”
“Few people are allowed in here,” Mason adds. “I see I’ve underestimated your sway with Katia.”
“It’s not her fault.”
Mason raises an eyebrow. “I’m sure even you know that’s not true.”
He has the same look in his eyes as the day they brought me to him.
The same day my life was turned upside down.
Like nothing else, and no one else matters.
Mason knows how to silence me with one word, one touch, and all I want to do is throw myself into his arms and never let go.
“It’s good to see that you’ve come to your senses.” Mason pulls me against him, and I melt. “We’ll make the arrangements together.”
I tilt my head back to look up at him. “Arrangements?”
“For the baby,” Mason continues, pausing to push my hair back. He presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to my neck, sending shivers racing up and down my spine. “We’ll find them a good home, don’t worry.”
“Mason…” His mouth moves from my neck to my ears, and his hands dig into my waist. “I… oh… mmm, that feels good.”
“I’ll have the doctor set up a birthing room for you here,” Mason continues. “Or maybe you can go somewhere until it’s done.”
His fingers are flicking my nipples now, and I can’t think straight.
All I can think about is how much I want his hands on me, claiming every part of me.
He stops and lifts my shirt over my head.
Then my breasts spill forward, and his mouth is on one nipple and then the other.
A haze settles over me as I throw my head back.
Suddenly, the desk is digging into my back, and I spread my legs for him.
Mason settles between them and rubs himself against me.
Oh, sweet Jesus.
My fingers move to his hair, and I yank.
He peppers my flushed skin with more kisses until he reaches my neck again. Without warning, he grips the back of my neck, so I’m looking at him through hooded eyes. With a growl, his mouth descends on mine.
Suddenly, the past two days of ache and uncertainty don’t matter.
How can it when he’s kissing me like he needs me to breathe?
When he’s touching me like he’s starving?
Mason nips on my lower lip, and his tongue invades me, hot and unyielding.
My grip on the back of his neck tightens, and I whimper.
Waves of pleasure rise within me, erasing everything else until I’m clawing at his back and panting.
He pauses to throw his shirt away, and I make another low noise as I touch his bare skin.
Mason says something under his breath and cups me over the fabric of my sweatpants.
My eyes fly open, and it’s like being drenched in ice-cold water.
I go still as Mason’s hands move up and down my sides, teasing and coaxing. My throat is tight as I lean back to look at him. “Mason, we need to stop.”
“Like fuck we do.” His mouth is against my neck again, his breath doing strange things to my insides. “I know you don’t want me to stop. I can smell it.”
I whimper when he touches me again. “I never said I want you to stop. I said we should.”
Mason growls and digs his nails into my waist. “Why?”
“Because I don’t want to give the baby to someone else to raise,” I say. Mason goes slack, and I wonder if he’s heard me. My heart thunders in my chest as he pulls back to look at me. He moves away until cold air rushes between us.
Fuck.
Mason’s expression is blank. “So you’ve made up your mind?”
“I… I didn’t. Or at least, I didn’t know that I had until just now.”
Mason groans. “So, you were just hoping to screw me until I said yes?”
I push myself off the desk and pick my shirt off the floor. “Almost like you were hoping to screw me into submission?”
Mason’s eyes narrow. “It’s not the same thing, and you know it.”
I pull the shirt over my head, never taking my eyes off him. “That’s why we need to talk about this. I don’t even know how you feel.”
Mason shakes his head and looks away. “There is nothing to talk about.”
I reach for him. “Like hell there isn’t. I’m carrying your baby, Mason. Regardless of how I handled it, you’re allowed to feel something about it.”
I hate how desperate and pathetic I sound, but I need to get through to him.
“No,” he says. “You’ve made sure I can’t.”
I take his hand in mine. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how many times you want me to say it, or how long you’re going to punish me. I can’t change what I did, but I would if I could.”
Mason stiffens but doesn’t withdraw his hand. “I doubt it would’ve done us any good.”
I take his hand and place it over my stomach. “This baby… it’s ours, and I know the idea of everything changing is scary, but we can do this. Together.”
Mason snatches his hand back and steps away. “You really believe that, don’t you? I didn’t think you were that na?ve, London.”
“I’m not na?ve.”
“Then how do you explain this?” Mason’s eyes blaze with fury. “How the hell are you going to raise a baby when you can’t even set foot outside the manor?”
I recoil at his venom. “We’ll raise them here. We’ll take whatever precautions we need.”
“You think it’s that easy?”
“I know it’s not,” I say, “but your mom did it. I’m sure plenty of others have, too. I don’t see why I can’t.”
We need to stay together. It’s the only path for us I can picture.
“I know I’m not going to have the life I wanted,” I continue, “but that doesn’t mean we can’t make a good life.”
Mason stares at me before returning to his desk and picking up his drink. He takes several long sips and avoids my gaze.
“You don’t know what you’re asking for, or the kind of danger they’d be in,” Mason says thickly. “You have no idea what it’s like to grow up in this world.”
“You’re right, I don’t,” I say, “but you do.”
Mason grips the glass tighter, and his expression darkens.
“You’ll be able to help this baby in a way no one else can.” I step behind the desk. “They need you. Just like I do.”
“You make it sound so simple.”
“I know it isn’t.”
Mason sighs in frustration. “You’re not going to like a lot of what needs to be done.”
“I know, and we’ll fight, and we’ll argue, but we’ll have each other. And the baby will have us.”
Mason’s eyes linger on my stomach. “I don’t know how to…”
I take his hands in mine and squeeze. “You are not your father. Not even close.”
Mason lifts his gaze to mine, and his expression softens. “Fuck. You make it sound possible.”
I step into his arms and look up at him. “It is.”
Mason squeezes his eyes shut, and his expression is pained when he lowers his forehead to mine. I wrap my arms around his waist and hold my breath.
“I need you, Mason. I don’t want to do this on my own. I want you there. I’m all in, remember?”
Mason sucks in a harsh breath and goes still.