Andrea Laurence - The Baby Favour

“Motherhood always did look good on you,” he said without thinking.

Scarlet froze for a moment, staring at him before taking a breath and gazing back down at the sleeping baby. “Christian Dior always looks good on me, too, but that doesn’t mean I should wear it all the time.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” he asked, speaking louder than he expected to.

Scarlet raised a finger to her lips, then gingerly stood up. “I’m going to put her back to bed before I answer that question.”

Mason waited as she returned Luna to her crib and shut the nursery door. When she came back, she beckoned for him to follow her out onto the deck. He stood up and traced her steps, noticing for the first time that she was wearing nothing more than a tiny pink cotton chemise with lacy white trim. It fit tightly to her full bust, then flowed freely over her hips to midthigh. It wasn’t exactly lingerie, but it wasn’t your grandmother’s nightgown either.

He found himself instantly responding to the innocent outfit as though it were some racy black teddy. His pulse started racing and his mouth was suddenly bone-dry. He attempted to lick his lips, but it didn’t help. It only made him think about her lips and how long it had been since he’d kissed them. Too long.

After he stepped outside, Scarlet pulled the glass door closed behind them. The sky was an inky black sprinkled with as many stars as the LA lights would allow. The moon was hovering overhead, almost full, casting a silvery glow to Scarlet’s figure.

“What I meant was that just because something looks good on you doesn’t mean you get to wear it. Motherhood might suit me, but it appears that life may have other plans.”

Mason frowned. “I don’t know why you would say that. You’ve got plenty of time to still be a mother, Scarlet. You’re beautiful and talented... Surely you’ll meet a man who will give you the family that you want.”

Scarlet looked at him as though he’d reached out and slapped her. “Stop saying that.”

“Stop saying what? It’s true. That’s why...” He trailed off. That’s why I left you.

Scarlet crossed her arms over her chest, pressing her breasts up against the deep V of her nightgown. “I don’t know why you think that just because you’re divorcing me I’m going to waltz out the door and find another man I’ll love as much as I loved you. Do you think they just have men lined up at the shopping mall and I pick one out and live happily ever after?”

Mason tried not to note her use of the past tense where he was concerned. He was the one who left, but that didn’t mean he had to like the idea of her moving on. “Don’t be silly,” he said. “I’m trying to be serious here. I don’t want you to give up on your dream of having your own family, Scarlet. Not because of me. You can still have it. Sure, it won’t drop in your lap tomorrow, but you can have it.”

“Maybe. Someday. But I sure as hell can’t move on with you here. It’s so hard to have you here and not think about everything else. About us. About Evan. About what a mess our lives have become...”

“Do you think it’s any easier on me? Christ, Scarlet. The last three days have been torture.”

Scarlet flinched. “This is what you wanted. How has it been torture?”

He ran his fingers through his sleep-tousled hair and then rubbed his palm over his face. “Do you know how hard it is for me to be around you and not want you? I am crazy with wanting you. You’re my wife.”

“I was your wife,” she said in a cold, accusatory tone she’d never used during their marriage. “You left me.”

“I left you because I can’t have you, Scarlet. Not and let you have what you need to be happy.”

She narrowed her gaze at him and took a step closer. “How do you know what I need, Mason? You always do this. You’ve always treated me like I’m a part of the company that you have to manage. You’re always making decisions for me, thinking you know what’s best, instead of asking me what I want or listening to me when I tell you things.”

Mason hesitated in his reply. He knew it probably seemed that way. He did listen. He just didn’t believe her. No matter how many times she said she was okay not having children, he knew it was a lie. She was settling. Because of him. And he wasn’t about to let her do that for something so important. Even when he didn’t like what he had to do, he’d do it because it was in her best interests.

“You bought this house without asking me.”

“I bought your dream house on Malibu. You don’t like it?”

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