would still be in the dark about his son if Melanie hadnât gone to Mason Ridge. Even though she was terrified of the future and of the coming changes, she couldnât regret that decision now.
Dawson knew.
All her cards were on the table for everyone to see, or soon would be. Didnât that leave a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach? Having Dawson around played havoc with her mentally and physically. And she was already exhausted from both. The thought of bringing more people into the equation didnât exactly calm her stress levels.
The rest of the drive was unsettling save for the fact that Mason slept most of the way. Heâd barely coughed and she figured the reason he was sleeping so much was that his body was fighting the virus.
Getting home to her own apartment was the best part of her day.
The strong possibility that Sprigs was still near Mason Ridge made her even happier to be in Houston. In fact, she didnât care what Dawson said, she had no plans to return to her hometown after all that had happened. Not until Sprigs was safely locked behind bars. Maybe not even then.
She didnât care what Dawson thought about her plans, either. He could come to Houston for a visit to his son anytime he wanted to.
Even though it was inevitable, she didnât want to negotiate with Dawson. She still remembered how broken heâd been when he lost his sister, because it was the same look that was on his face when he realized her son was his child, too.
Was his mother right? Would Dawson always hold her in contempt for bringing back those old hurts?
Was it somehow making it all worse that he found out about Mason this way? Heck if Melanie knew what the best path was anymore.
No relationship, no matter how strong or steeped in history, could survive that betrayal. Sheâd known that on some level when she made the deal with the devil in the first place. Sheâd been scared, hormonal and alone, and his mother had pounced on the opportunity to put Melanie in her placeâa place below the Hill family. In Alice Hillâs opinion, Melanie had never been good enough for Dawson.
Seeing the hurt in his eyesâhurt sheâd put thereâMelanie couldnât argue with the womanâs point.
* * *
M ELANIE â S APARTMENT MIGHT lack in square footage but it made up for it in charm. The place was all her, and Dawson didnât want to instantly feel at home there even though he did.
The living area was open to the kitchen with a large pass-through in between. Sheâd placed a couple of beige bar stools there. A couch and a pair of chairs flanked the fireplace. The wood mantel had several candid pictures of her and Mason. Dawson could see the age progression in the photos and part of him wondered whoâd taken the shots. Jealousy roared through him at the thought of another man being around his son. And Melanie. Touching Melanie.
Okay, fine. He didnât like the idea of another manâs hands on Melanie, but she wasnât exactly territory he had the right to claim no matter how possessive he felt. Seeing his son in her arms didnât help with that particular emotion and Dawson figured he needed to get used to all this. She wasnât going away. He wasnât going away. And there could be a man in her life...no... Dawson couldnât even go there in thought.
No other man got to spend more time with his son than him. Or with Melanie , a little voice inside his head said. Dawson would like to quash that cursed little voice, too. He didnât need to have feelings for her, especially since he was already jealous thinking of a make-believe guy spending time with her and Mason.
Dawson needed to sort out his crazy emotions and come up with a plan for making this arrangement work. If not for his logistics job in Dallas, heâd consider relocating to Houston to be closer to his son. Then again, he could always find another job once the dust settled.
How
Dawson knew.
All her cards were on the table for everyone to see, or soon would be. Didnât that leave a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach? Having Dawson around played havoc with her mentally and physically. And she was already exhausted from both. The thought of bringing more people into the equation didnât exactly calm her stress levels.
The rest of the drive was unsettling save for the fact that Mason slept most of the way. Heâd barely coughed and she figured the reason he was sleeping so much was that his body was fighting the virus.
Getting home to her own apartment was the best part of her day.
The strong possibility that Sprigs was still near Mason Ridge made her even happier to be in Houston. In fact, she didnât care what Dawson said, she had no plans to return to her hometown after all that had happened. Not until Sprigs was safely locked behind bars. Maybe not even then.
She didnât care what Dawson thought about her plans, either. He could come to Houston for a visit to his son anytime he wanted to.
Even though it was inevitable, she didnât want to negotiate with Dawson. She still remembered how broken heâd been when he lost his sister, because it was the same look that was on his face when he realized her son was his child, too.
Was his mother right? Would Dawson always hold her in contempt for bringing back those old hurts?
Was it somehow making it all worse that he found out about Mason this way? Heck if Melanie knew what the best path was anymore.
No relationship, no matter how strong or steeped in history, could survive that betrayal. Sheâd known that on some level when she made the deal with the devil in the first place. Sheâd been scared, hormonal and alone, and his mother had pounced on the opportunity to put Melanie in her placeâa place below the Hill family. In Alice Hillâs opinion, Melanie had never been good enough for Dawson.
Seeing the hurt in his eyesâhurt sheâd put thereâMelanie couldnât argue with the womanâs point.
* * *
M ELANIE â S APARTMENT MIGHT lack in square footage but it made up for it in charm. The place was all her, and Dawson didnât want to instantly feel at home there even though he did.
The living area was open to the kitchen with a large pass-through in between. Sheâd placed a couple of beige bar stools there. A couch and a pair of chairs flanked the fireplace. The wood mantel had several candid pictures of her and Mason. Dawson could see the age progression in the photos and part of him wondered whoâd taken the shots. Jealousy roared through him at the thought of another man being around his son. And Melanie. Touching Melanie.
Okay, fine. He didnât like the idea of another manâs hands on Melanie, but she wasnât exactly territory he had the right to claim no matter how possessive he felt. Seeing his son in her arms didnât help with that particular emotion and Dawson figured he needed to get used to all this. She wasnât going away. He wasnât going away. And there could be a man in her life...no... Dawson couldnât even go there in thought.
No other man got to spend more time with his son than him. Or with Melanie , a little voice inside his head said. Dawson would like to quash that cursed little voice, too. He didnât need to have feelings for her, especially since he was already jealous thinking of a make-believe guy spending time with her and Mason.
Dawson needed to sort out his crazy emotions and come up with a plan for making this arrangement work. If not for his logistics job in Dallas, heâd consider relocating to Houston to be closer to his son. Then again, he could always find another job once the dust settled.
How
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