A Different Blue(92)

control over it. But I can make sure this baby isn't scattered like I was. I have nothing to

give but myself, and if something were to happen to me, my baby would have no one left. I can't

guarantee this child a happy life, but I can make sure she doesn't love alone. I want to layer

her in love. Mother and father and grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins. I want her to

have family surrounding her so there is no mystery and no fear of being alone or abandoned . . .

or scattered.”

Wilson nodded again, but his face was troubled and his grey eyes morose. He leaned in and kissed

my forehead, and I smelled peppermints and aftershave and had to steel myself against the desire

to breathe deeply, to pull his scent around me like a warm blanket. I sensed his unrest, as if

he disagreed with everything I had said but didn't want to hurt my feelings. I wondered if it

was the fact that he would be an uncle to my child, to Tiffa's child. He would be one of the

layers of love I was so painstakingly constructing.

“So what's next, Blue? Where do we go from here?” I didn't know what he referred to exactly,

so I took him literally.

“Tomorrow I have to tell Mason.”





“Well look who's here. Couldn't stay away, could ya?” Mason crooned, looking down at me from

his open door. He was silhouetted in the light from his little apartment over the garage. I had

called him, telling him I was outside and needed to talk to him. He snapped his phone shut and

began walking down the stairs, his swagger pronounced. He obviously thought I wanted to do

something more than talk. I held my purse in front of me, not wanting him to get an eyefull

until I was ready. I heard a door slam. Wilson rounded the corner. So much for him staying in

the car.

“Where the hell have you been, Blue?” Mason reached the bottom of the stairs at the same time

Wilson reached my side. Mason's eyes strayed to Wilson and a dark look passed over his features.

“Thought you'd trade me in for this uppity pansy?”

“I'm pregnant, Mason. It's yours,” I shot out, not wanting to make small talk. I needed this

over and done as soon as possible. I moved my purse to the side so he could get a good look at

my stomach.

Mason's eyes shot to my belly and back to my face. I wasn't obviously pregnant if I wore the

right clothing. I'd made sure to wear a fitted T-shirt with slim white capris so there was no

doubt.

“Oh, that's rich!” Mason howled, running his hands through his hair, and I immediately felt

bad for him. I didn't blame him for being outraged. It was a major sucker punch, and I knew

exactly how he felt; I'd felt the same way several months ago. He pointed at me, his finger only

inches from my face.

“You show up here after almost six months, and lay this on me? No way. Uh uh! I'm not buying

it.”

“Not buying what, Mason?” I challenged. I tempered my sympathy with the need to accomplish

what I'd come for.

“How do I know the kid is even mine, Blue? I sure as hell wasn't your first, and I definitely

wasn't your last. If I recall, Adam here was in the picture around that time, too.” Mason eyed

Wilson sourly. Wilson just shook his head and crossed his arms. The Adam thing just wouldn't go

away. It did no good to try to deny or explain anything.