Texan's Baby (13 page)

“My twee-house,” Mason said with an earnest expression. “Mine.”

Melanie chanced a glance at Dawson, careful not to intrude on what could be a difficult moment.

“It's okay,” Dawson reassured her, and he looked so much better than when they'd first arrived at the lake house hours ago. “I took him there to show it to him while you were sleeping. I think it's safe to say that it belongs to him now.”

Behind his smile a deeper emotion was brewing. Melanie decided not to push her luck.

“Are you hungry?” she asked Mason, turning away from the beautiful little girl's picture. It was hard for Melanie to look, to be reminded of Bethany and the disease that took her life so young.

Melanie hugged Mason a little tighter.

He wiggled out of the hug.

“Mine.”

“I know, sweetheart,” Melanie said with a smile, letting him stare at the picture.

Maybe she should've scheduled an appointment with a genetic specialist. It wouldn't hurt to find out if Mason carried the gene. But then what would happen? She'd had this argument in her head a thousand times and there was never a good answer. None of it would change the way she loved him or the fact that she wanted him to have a normal childhood for as long as possible. Knowing would just color every day with a dark cloud.

“I've got this. Why don't you take a break?” Dawson asked. It was more statement than question. He left to put Mason down to sleep after dinner and their nighttime routine.

Melanie agreed. If he'd taken their son to the places he'd shared with his sister, then he probably needed Mason more than she did. Dawson had slipped into a comfortable routine with their son, looking so much more at ease than he had in those first few days.

Nothing like a crash course in child care to get a person up to speed
, Melanie thought. She'd had the same one when the little guy was born. Or maybe it just came naturally for parents to care for their child. Natural? Melanie choked back a laugh as she put away the last of the dishes. Not exactly the word she would've used to describe those first few weeks at home with Mason after her mother left.

Then again, he was a lot tinier back then. So much more fragile.

She walked past the bottle of wine and made coffee instead. She poured two cups.

Dawson, none the worse for wear, appeared just in time to enjoy a fresh mug.

“Care for one?” she asked.

“Do I?” Dawson picked up his and shot her a sideways glance when he picked up hers, too, and then balanced them while he opened the sliding glass door. “Coming?”

“What about Mason?”

“I'll leave the door open so we can hear him if he wakes. He was pretty tired when I put him to bed, though.” He nodded toward the deck. “C'mon.”

“Okay.” Melanie followed him outside, where he pulled two Adirondack chairs and a side table in front of the door. He closed the screen door behind them to keep out bugs.

“I see you're taking up my bad habit,” he said, and she knew he was referring to coffee instead of Pepsi. She'd already had two of those.

“It's not so bad.”

“How's this?” he asked, hesitating when his gaze landed on a small white rocking chair.

It was the perfect size for a five-year-old. That had to have been hers.

Melanie's heart squeezed. She touched his arm, ignoring the charge of electricity shooting through her hand and spiking her blood pressure.

“You want to go back inside?” she asked.

“No. I don't.” He stared at it for a long moment and then took his seat, focusing on the lake instead. “I want to be right here. With you.”

Those last two words didn't help at all with the blood pulsing through her veins or just how aware her body was of him when he was this close. She needed to redirect her energy. “I'm pretty sure you made Mason's day today. He loves it out here.”

“I see some of Bethany in him,” Dawson said almost so quietly that she didn't hear him.

Melanie took a sip of coffee. She'd seen it, too. She chose to think of it as Dawson.

“Are you against having him tested?” Dawson asked. He took another sip of coffee and stared at the sky.

“I just haven't, I guess.”

“Well, have you spoken to your pediatrician about the possibility?” Dawson pressed.

If there was a right answer to this, Melanie sure didn't know what it was. Just talking about it with Dawson had her hands sweaty and mouth dry. She took another sip of coffee to relieve the itch in her throat.

“Believe it or not, I'm not trying to be a bastard by asking,” he said.

“I didn't say you were,” she snapped back too quickly. Did this topic make her uncomfortable? Yes. It did. Did that make her an awful mother? Dawson could judge her all he wanted to. She hadn't brought it up and hadn't had him tested. There. Sue her.

“You don't have to be defensive. I know we got off on a bad start, but in case you hadn't noticed I've been trying to work with you,” he said, and his tone was indignant. “It's not an unrealistic conversation to have, Melanie. I need to know.”

“Would it matter? Would you love him less?” She hated how shaky her voice had become.

“That's not fair.” No matter how calm his voice was, her pulse was still rising.

“Neither is knowing your son could die.” She pushed off the chair and stalked to the edge of the deck, stopping to grip the rail. She'd known that it would only be a matter of time before they would have this conversation, and yet she hadn't expected it to come this fast or hurt this much. “And it wouldn't change my love for Mason. I want him to have a normal life no matter what.”

Dawson didn't respond, and she half feared the storm that was brewing.

Instead of yelling as she'd half expected, he was suddenly behind her and his arms encircled her waist.

“It's me, Melanie. You don't have to be angry with me.” His deep timbre ran along the base of her neck, down her spine.

“I'm not,” she lied. It was partly true.

“No. You're scared.” His voice wrapped around her.

Despite wanting to fight it, to fight him, to fight the world, her body relaxed against his muscled chest. Because it was Dawson. And she felt safe in his arms.

“And I'm scared, too.” His voice came out as a whisper against her neck. “But we can get through this together.”

Then he kissed her. His lips so soft against the skin of her neck.

Heat swirled through her body.

She unclasped his hands, kissed each of them and then let them go. Instead of falling at his sides, they landed on the guardrail, and on either side of her, pinning her.

She shouldn't allow this to go any further, and she knew that somewhere in the back of her mind. She was reaching the point of no return, and if he didn't stop she wouldn't be able to.

Melanie turned around. Her hip firmly planted against the rail. He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers. And she could tell the instant her body changed from anger to awareness...awareness of Dawson's strength...awareness of his masculinity...awareness of the strong man standing in front of her.

So she didn't fight, couldn't fight when his lips crushed down on her, hungry. He groaned against her mouth. There wasn't much more that she could do except surrender to the heat, to the scorching flames engulfing her. Every part of her body came alive, sensitized, as she parted her lips for him and drove her tongue inside his mouth.

The cool breeze danced across her hot skin.

A thought struck. There were FBI agents watching the lake house.

It must've occurred to Dawson about the same time because he pulled back and then glanced around.

“You want to take this inside?” he asked, his gaze piercing through all her carefully constructed walls, shattering all her intellectual reasons why this shouldn't happen. This all came down to being a man and a woman, basic desire, and there was no man she wanted more than Dawson.

“Yes.”

“Just so there's no misunderstanding. You realize what I'm asking,” he said, and his voice was deep and gravelly.

“I already gave you my answer,” she said. “Unless you think we shouldn't.”

He twined their fingers and walked inside, closing and locking the sliding door behind them.

Flipping off lights as they moved through each room, she figured he was stalling, giving her time to change her mind. Did he want her to be the sensible one?

When they made it to the bottom of the steps, she tugged his hand. He turned around and she let go of his hand, wrapping her arms around his neck instead. She had to push up to her tiptoes to kiss him, but she did, pressing her body flush with his.

There was no mistaking that he wanted this as badly as she did when his erection pressed to her belly. That fired molten lava through her veins, melting any protests she might have had before they could take seed.

Yes, on an intellectual level having sex with Dawson would be a bad idea. It would complicate their situation even more if that was possible.

Physically, though, and from a place buried deep in her heart, those arguments didn't hold water. Being with Dawson made perfect sense and felt so incredibly right.

With his arms around her waist, he claimed her mouth again, deepening the kiss when she moaned against his lips. And Melanie melted against him.

He pulled back a little.

“Upstairs,” he said, his mouth moving against hers.

“Yes. Now.” She stepped around him and headed up first.

After quickly checking on Mason, who was sleeping peacefully in his crib, Melanie followed Dawson to his bedroom.

Her heart pounded, her skin tingled and there was something that felt a lot like ache penetrating her body.

She had never felt so intense, so much chemistry, so much heat—with anyone other than Dawson.

Mostly, because there was so much more between them than physical attraction, even though they had that in spades.

Did he feel the same?

Could she go through with this if he didn't?

“Dawson,” she said.

When he turned to look at her, there was so much hunger in his eyes.

“We need to talk,” she said.

Chapter Fifteen

“We need to talk?” Dawson echoed. Those four words were normally sex-drive killers. In Melanie's case, he'd make an exception and that was mostly because he had no control over his body's reaction to her. If she wanted to put the brakes on, he'd need one damn cold shower at this point. “Now?”

“I want...
this
.” She sat on the edge of the bed. “But I need to know that it won't change things between us.”

“In what way?” he asked. “Because I was hoping it would.”

“We have a lot going on and I don't want to be walking on eggshells with each other,” she said.

“Like we haven't been already?” he asked with a smirk. He had yet to be comfortable around Melanie since seeing her again and finding out they had a child together.

She burst into a smile. And it was about the sexiest thing Dawson had ever seen.

“Yeah, I guess you're right. It has been intense, hasn't it?” she asked.

“I'll understand if you've changed your mind about this.” He glanced toward the bed.

Melanie stood and then pulled her shirt over her head. It didn't make a sound when it hit the floor. She stood there in front of him, wearing a lacy black bra. Her chest moved up and down quickly as he remembered the feel of her firm breasts in his hands.

Dawson closed the distance between them in two steps.

“You're beautiful, Melanie.” That her cheeks flushed with the compliment stirred his heart. “And damn sexy.”

Her gaze locked on to his when she shimmied out of her shorts.

Dawson groaned when he caught a glimpse of her panties. Black. Silky. Lined with lace. Just like her bra.

He ran his finger along the inside edge of her bra in a V. He remembered how sweet she tasted, and the urge to run his tongue along the same spot assaulted him.

“Dawson, I want you.
Now
.” The urgency in her words turned him on. She made a move toward the bed, but he stopped her.

“I've thought about this moment for too long to rush.” She wasn't making it easy. He tugged her toward him and kissed her, hoping to slow things down a notch.

It didn't help.

If anything, that kiss was like pouring gasoline on a fire. The explosion of need rushed through him just as out-of-control as the blaze.

Desire warred with his self-control, and his self-control was losing the battle.

He pulled back, eyes closed, and tried to think of something else...anything else...something mundane...like changing the oil on his SUV.

“You're not getting away with that, Dawson Hill.” Melanie always could tell what he was thinking. “Look at me.”

He opened his eyes at the same time her bra hit the floor, along with Dawson's reserves.

He spread his hand across her full breast, and her nipple beaded against his palm. Damn. Sexy.

Her tongue slicked across her bottom lip, leaving a silky trail, and Dawson was mesmerized—mesmerized by the sweetness of her skin, the hold she had over him and the sense of belonging he felt when he slid inside her. Which, at this rate, wasn't going to be too long.

It only took another two seconds to strip his clothes off. Her panties joined the floor at the same time.

And there she was, his Melanie. Sweetness, intelligence and sex appeal rolled into one helluva blond-haired, brown-eyed package.

Dawson put his arms around her waist and lowered her onto the bed as gently as he could given how much restraint it took not to pick her up and drive himself deep inside her right then and there. Every muscle corded with tension, needing release.

And he'd only just begun.

He pushed himself up on bent knees and slicked his tongue down her chest until her beaded nipple was inside his mouth. Licking and sucking, enjoying every moan he got out of Melanie, Dawson slid his tongue down her belly, pausing long enough to kiss the stretch marks that had been created when she gave him a son.

And then he moved his mouth down, positioning himself in between her thighs.

Melanie tasted sweet, and the fact that she was already wet nearly sent him over the edge. He pushed the thought aside and delved his tongue inside her sweet heat.

“Oh, Dawson.” He liked the sound of his name on her tongue.

Deeper. His tongue surged inside her as he used his thumb to draw circles on her mound.

Faster. He felt her body arch and tense and he knew she was nearing release.

“I want you inside me. Now.” Melanie scooted toward the foot of the bed and then clasped her legs around Dawson's midsection.

He dipped his tip inside her and nearly lost all control. Her fingers dug into his back and he knew that she was teetering on the edge.

He drove inside her and she matched his stride.

As he thrust deeper, his own need was like a bomb about to detonate despite his best efforts to contain it.

When he could feel her muscles clench around his shaft, he allowed himself to release, falling off the edge with her.

Careful not to crush her with his weight, he eased her toward the pillow, not ready to pull out before it was absolutely necessary. And that was when he realized that they hadn't used protection.

“Melanie.” Dawson eased to her side and pulled her against his chest. Their arms were still in a tangle and he could feel her racing heartbeat. “We didn't—”

“I'm on the pill. I won't get pregnant again this time,” she reassured.

“Would it be so bad to give Mason a sibling?”

“Funny joke. I think our hands are full as it is, don't you?”

She thought he was kidding? Maybe she couldn't read him anymore. Because he knew in his heart that he meant it.

“I still love you. What more is there?”

Damn. Did he say that out loud?

And there was no reaction from Melanie.

Didn't he know how to quiet a room?

A quick jab to his arm came a second later. Melanie's laugh filled the awkward silence.

“Quit trying to be funny, Dawson.”

He went along with the misunderstanding, ignoring the pain in his chest that she didn't believe him.

On second thought, maybe it wasn't the worst thing in the world right now. They were already heavily invested in feelings, they'd just had the best sex he could remember and love complicated their situation even more.

There were a lot of details to work out between them now that they shared a son. And maybe it was better that she didn't know he loved her, because Dawson had a feeling they didn't see eye to eye on a few important matters with regard to Mason. Until they sorted things out, it was best to take things one step at a time.

Besides, Dawson might have to play hardball to bring her to the light. And he would if that was the only choice she gave him.

Melanie softened his thoughts when she curled herself around him and fell into a deep sleep on his chest.

“I love you, Melanie,” he whispered as he closed his eyes and then drifted off.

* * *

D
AWSON
MIGHT
HAVE
been joking last night, but Melanie's heart had stopped when he said he still loved her. Normally, she could read the man's mind, but her own confused feelings got in the way when it came to love, and her heart wished he'd said it for real.

Exactly the reason she needed to slow down and keep a level head.

Melanie untangled herself from Dawson's arms, thinking that was the best she'd slept in...she couldn't remember how long. She slipped out of bed and into the shower before Mason opened his eyes.

Once that whirlwind woke, Melanie had precious little time for herself.

She enjoyed the feel of the warm water. Since Dawson had come into their lives, she'd had several quiet showers.

By the time Mason woke and called for her, she'd dressed and had a few sips of coffee while standing at the sliding door, enjoying the view of the sun rising across the lake. This place was perfectly positioned to take advantage of sunsets, and she could easily see why the family had bought it. And she could also see why they wouldn't come back after they'd lost Bethany. This place had to have been special to her.

Melanie took the stairs, stopping at the top. She thought she'd heard Mason calling for her, but he was saying, “Dada.”

And Dawson was a few steps away from his crib.

Her heart melted in her chest at the sight of them. Mason's wide smile. Dawson's outstretched arms.

She didn't want to intrude on the moment, so she tiptoed downstairs and poured a cup of coffee for Dawson.

This was nice. Was it even possible that this could be real? That it could last...no...it was almost too perfect. How long before the tiny cracks would seep through and break the facade?

And how devastating would that be?

With a normal man, Melanie could handle it. Not with Dawson. There was something too special about the bond they'd shared to allow that to happen.

All those negative thoughts shattered when Dawson appeared, shirtless, carrying a smiling Mason against his chest.

“Mama!” Mason exclaimed, happy to see her but not exactly trying to get down so he could run to her.

“Good morning, big boy,” she said with a smile.

Dawson kissed her on the cheek and then Mason followed suit.

How adorable was that?

Melanie held out Dawson's cup of coffee when she heard a rustling noise at the door. Her first thought was one of the FBI agents noticed movement in the house and wanted to use the bathroom. But then, they wouldn't have a key, would they?

The back door swung open and, shock of all shocks, Alice Hill walked in behind Andy who wore an apology on his face. Dawson's father, Jack, trailed closely behind.

“The alarm company notified us of activity here at the house, so we decided to come see for ourselves what was going on. This agent interrogated us before allowing us onto our own property,” Alice said coolly. Her ice-cold gaze stopped on Melanie, and disapproval was stamped all over her tense features.

“Again, my apologies, ma'am” Andy said to Alice. He looked at Dawson. “You have this under control?”

Dawson nodded before Andy excused himself.

“I didn't realize you'd brought a
friend
out here, Dawson.”

Melanie stood there like a concrete statue, frozen in time, and she was sure her jaw had hit the floor. In no way and under no circumstances was she ready to face Dawson's mother.

Unable to breathe with that woman in the room, Melanie grabbed her son and bolted out the slider.

She vaguely heard Dawson calling her name, but she didn't stop until she reached Andy's sedan.

He turned toward her. “Everything okay, Ms. Dixon?”

“Yes. Sure. Will you take me and my son out to get something to eat?” she asked, pleading with her eyes.

Andy opened the back door with a knowing smile.

“You have a car seat already?” she asked.

“Have to be ready to go at a moment's notice,” he said.

Right. Of course.

She buckled Mason in, praying that Dawson wouldn't burst out the nearest door.

He didn't, and she figured he was backed against the wall by his parents and trying to explain why the heck she was at their lake house with federal officers and their grandchild.

Melanie didn't need to see Alice's face again to know how much she disapproved of the pregnancy, of Mason. After all, that shocked image had been burned into Melanie's memory nearly two and a half years ago. Her words wound through Melanie's thoughts like weeds choking a flower. She tried to block them out, focusing instead on the gravel road leading away from the lake house.

“Thank you,” she said to Andy.

“No problem,” he replied before transmitting their change in location. “You looked like you'd seen a ghost.”

“I hope I didn't freak you out or anything. It's just, well, that woman really knows how to get under my skin.” How crazy was Melanie to think a life with Dawson and their child would work out? Alice was probably back there undermining Melanie before she even got out of earshot.

Then again, once she admitted to knowing about their son and pushing Melanie away, Dawson would have to see his mother for the...bully...she was.

Thinking about family was giving Melanie a headache. It was too early in the morning for this drama. Darn it. Family. Melanie hadn't remembered to bring her phone. She hadn't checked it yet this morning and she didn't know if Abby had called.

She would ask to borrow Andy's cell phone if she'd been smart enough to memorize the number. She hadn't. Everyone was a name in her contact list now. She couldn't remember the last time she'd memorized an actual phone number other than hers.

As soon as she returned to the lake house, she needed to find her phone and check to see if Abby had called.

“Has Sprigs been found yet?” she asked, knowing this operation would most likely be over if he had.

“No. We have people covering your place, though. If he so much as sets foot within a mile, we'll get him,” Andy said.

“Is there still a possibility that he might be hurt or hiding?”

“There is.” There was no commitment in his words.

And what that really told her was that Sprigs could be anywhere. She tightened her grip on her seat belt and glanced at Mason.

Andy's cell buzzed causing Melanie to jump at the sudden noise.

“Sorry,” she said. “Guess I'm on edge.”

“It's okay,” he said with a smile. “I have a mother-in-law, too.”

Melanie stopped herself before she said that she wasn't related to that crazy woman back there in any way, shape or form. She needed to watch herself in front of Mason. Like it or not, Alice was most likely going to be in her son's life, and Mason was a sponge. She didn't want him picking up on her dislike for his grandmother.

Besides, it would be Dawson's responsibility to make sure his parents saw their child. Mason could visit on Dawson's time, and Melanie wouldn't have to be anywhere around the woman who'd made it clear she didn't want to have anything to do with her.