Texan's Baby. Barb Han

Чтение книги онлайн.

СКАЧАТЬ Mason he would want to do the right thing and be involved. Because he was truly a good guy, he would most likely even propose marriage. In her hormonal state, she might’ve agreed. And then what? If Mason did have the gene, God forbid, and ended up with the same fate as Bethany, Dawson would be stuck with Melanie forever. The only tie they’d had, Mason, would be gone. And their lives would be empty. At least her parents had had two daughters as glue for their relationship.

      Considering the other side of the coin, say Mason escaped the worst-case scenario. This was the one she prayed for every night. If she and Dawson had married based on her pregnancy, would all the spark between them slowly die with the realization that the only reason they were together was Mason?

      Most nights, Melanie sat up worrying, churning over her guilt. She stressed about Mason growing up never knowing his father, about Dawson’s reaction if he found out about his son, and about whether or not she was being unfair. And it had just felt like this huge no-win situation. Tell Dawson and commit him to a life of worry. Don’t tell him and cheat him out of his son.

      How many nights had she lain awake staring at the ceiling? That hamster wheel of questions spinning through her mind? Wishing answers would magically appear?

      Working nights mostly after he was asleep, she felt incredibly blessed to have been there for all his important firsts. There would be even more that she had to look forward to, like his first day of kindergarten, his first bike ride and the first book he could read on his own. Based on his taste so far it would be something by Dr. Seuss.

      “That about does it,” Dawson said. She hadn’t noticed the little clanking noises had stopped that he’d made while putting away supplies.

      Another yawn rolled up and out before she could suppress it. When was the last time she’d been this tired? Having her body beyond the brink of exhaustion was one thing. Her mind, overthinking her circumstance, had pushed this into a whole new stratosphere.

      “Think you can get some sleep?” he asked.

      “I doubt it.”

      “I’ve never seen you look so tired.”

      “Comes with the job,” she mused, thankful the mood had lightened at least for now. “Thanks for what you said earlier, by the way.”

      His brow came up as he took a seat on the couch. “And that was?”

      “For saying I was a good mother.”

      “Whatever is going on between us, and believe me, we’re going to talk about this all very soon, doesn’t affect how I think of you as Mason’s mother.” He paused thoughtfully. “I meant every word of what I said. He couldn’t have done better.”

      The deep rumble of his voice, the way it poured over her like Amaretto on vanilla ice cream, would cause her knees to buckle if she’d been standing. He’d always had that ability to make her legs turn into rubber.

      “It means a lot to hear you say that, Dawson.”

      “Come sit over here on the couch,” he said, motioning for her to take a seat next to him.

      She did, feeling the heat swirl as their shoulders touched. He still had that effect on her and she should be concerned about that. As it was, she was just happy that she could feel that way for anyone. To say her love life had been a draught since getting pregnant was the understatement of the year.

      Walking away from Dawson had been one of the most difficult things she’d ever done. Until sitting next to him on the couch right now.

      Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

      Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

      Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

      Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.

/9j/4QAYRXhpZgAASUkqAAgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAP/sABFEdWNreQABAAQAAABQAAD/4QQ9aHR0cDov L25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wLwA8P3hwYWNrZXQgYmVnaW49Iu+7vyIgaWQ9Ilc1TTBNcENl aGlIenJlU3pOVGN6a2M5ZCI/PiA8eDp4bXBtZXRhIHhtbG5zOng9ImFkb2JlOm5zOm1ldGEvIiB4 OnhtcHRrPSJBZG9iZSBYTVAgQ29yZSA1LjAtYzA2MSA2NC4xNDA5NDksIDIwMTAvMTIvMDctMTA6 NTc6MDEgICAgICAgICI+IDxyZGY6UkRGIHhtbG5zOnJkZj0iaHR0cDovL3d3dy53My5vcmcvMTk5 OS8wMi8yMi1yZGYtc3ludGF4LW5zIyI+IDxyZGY6RGVzY3JpcHRpb24gcmRmOmFib3V0PSIiIHht bG5zOnhtcFJpZ2h0cz0iaHR0cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3JpZ2h0cy8iIHhtbG5z OnhtcE1NPSJodHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvbW0vIiB4bWxuczpzdFJlZj0iaHR0 cDovL25zLmFkb2JlLmNvbS94YXAvMS4wL3NUeXBlL1Jlc291cmNlUmVmIyIgeG1sbnM6eG1wPSJo dHRwOi8vbnMuYWRvYmUuY29tL3hhcC8xLjAvIiB4bWxuczpkYz0iaHR0cDovL3B1cmwub3JnL2Rj L2VsZW1lbnRzLzEuMS8iIHhtcFJpZ2h0czpNYXJrZWQ9IkZhbHNlIiB4bXBNTTpPcmlnaW5hbERv Y3VtZW50SUQ9IjQwMDJGNEM4QTQ5MEZBNTlDMTNDRDE0QkRFM0MyQTg5IiB4bXBNTTpEb2N1bWVu dElEPSJ4bXAuZGlkOkQwODI5Njk1RkU5QjExRTVCMjIwRDhCMkJFRTE5QTA1IiB4bXBNTTpJbnN0 YW5jZUlEPSJ4bXAuaWlkOkQwODI5Njk0RkU5QjExRTVCMjIwRDhCMkJFRTE5QTA1IiB4bXA6Q3Jl YXRvclRvb2w9IkFkb2JlIFBob3Rvc2hvcCBDUzUuMSBNYWNpbnRvc2giPiA8eG1wTU06RGVyaXZl ZEZyb20gc3RSZWY6aW5zdGFuY2VJRD0ieG1wLmlpZDpEMzE3RDg3NkUzMjA2ODExQUY4Qzk1QkY0 NTk1NzA3NSIgc3RSZWY6ZG9jdW1lbnRJRD0iNDAwMkY0QzhBNDkwRkE1OUMxM0NEMTRCREUzQzJB ODkiLz4gPGRjOnRpdGxlPiA8cmRmOkFsdD4gPHJkZjpsaSB4bWw6bGFuZz0ieC1kZWZhdWx0Ij5C YWJ5XzA0MTYuaW5kZDwvcmRmOmxpPiA8L3JkZjpBbHQ+IDwvZGM6dGl0bGU+IDwvcmRmOkRlc2Ny aXB0aW9uPiA8L3JkZjpSREY+IDwveDp4bXBtZXRhPiA8P3hwYWNrZXQgZW5kPSJyIj8+/+0ASFBo b3Rvc2hvcCAzLjAAOEJJTQQEAAAAAAAPHAFaAAMbJUccAgAAAgACADhCSU0EJQAAAAAAEPzhH4nI t8l4LzRiNAdYd+v/4gxYSUNDX1BST0ZJTEUAAQEAAAxITGlubwIQAABtbnRyUkdCIFhZWiAHzgAC AAkABgAxAABhY3NwTVNGVAAAAABJRUMgc1JHQgAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA9tYAAQAAAADTLUhQICAA AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAABFjcHJ0AAABUAAA ADNkZXNjAAABhAAAAGx3dHB0AAAB8AAAABRia3B0AAACBAAAABRyWFlaAAACGAAAABRnWFlaAAAC LAAAABRiWFlaAAACQAAAABRkbW5kAAACVAAAAHBkbWRkAAACxAAAAIh2dWVkAAADTAAAAIZ2aWV3 AAAD1AAAACRsdW1pAAAD+AAAABRtZWFzAAAEDAAAACR0ZWNoAAAEMAAAAAxyVFJDAAAEPAAACAxn VFJDAAAEP

СКАЧАТЬ