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  Then he touches a sequence of buttons on a keypad mounted on the casing, and the drone lifts off, more slowly but steadily. He sends it out the door and it climbs in altitude, then turns and heads east.

  Mason goes to a computer monitor and turns it on. A slightly staticky picture of a larger roof, a smaller roof, and rolling lawns and countryside comes into view.

  “You’ve seen drone footage I’m sure. The display’s showing what the camera sees.” He turns to me, smiling. “It’s hovering over us right now. In a minute, I’ll place an order with Ron at Ron’s Ristorante and send the drone over to pick it up.”

  “What? Cool! I’ve been to Ron’s many times. I didn’t even know they do take-out.”

  “Take-out service is for select clients,” he says. “most of whom drive over to pick up their orders. I’m pretty sure I’m the only guy who sends a drone for his take-out.”

  He’s grinning but his tone is full of humor. If he’s impressed with himself, he’s hiding it well.

  He takes out his phone and offering me a small smile, starts tapping it. No, he seems pretty down-to-earth about it.

  Smiling back, I say, “And…the, um, staff at the restaurant obviously know what to do when the drone arrives?”

  “Usually Ron or the chef take care of it. They’re UAV enthusiasts, too.”

  “Mason, this is so cool!” I can’t keep the smile off my face.

  “Heh. Drone deliveries for small items is going to be big one day soon. You may have heard, online retailers are testing it in some areas. I happen to be among the early inventors of UAV and robot tech, so they’re using my later prototypes. You know what else is awesome about it?”

  “What?”

  “It’s great for the environment, keeping cars off the road for short trips. And…the food comes back piping hot.” He grins. “So…what do you feel like eating?”

  * * *

  True to his word, the UAV fetches our food from Ron’s in half an hour, and everything is fresh-from-the-oven hot.

  We put Andrew in his bassinet in Mason’s room and turn on the brand-new baby monitor. We watch him for a moment before we go eat. The baby sleeps peacefully, his rosebud mouth pooching in and out adorably.

  He’s such a beautiful baby. So sweet! I feel so sorry for him, and his mother, and for whatever happened to cause this situation. But at least, his father will give him a good life.

  And just for a moment, I let myself picture me and his father, together…seeing the baby’s first smile…his first steps…taking a photo of his first tooth…celebrating his first word.

  No. I’m too young…I need to play, to party and be silly and irresponsible still…don’t I?

  * * *

  In the kitchen, we sit down to eat, the monitor on the table between us.

  “So…you’re still not curious about who I am, huh?”

  I pause, my fork halfway to my mouth, checking his face carefully for any signs of smugness or self-satisfaction. Nope. Not a trace. He’s looking at me blandly.

  What’s this all about then? If he’s an egomaniac, maybe it’s lurking in the background just waiting to jump out.

  It so, it’s too bad, because I’m liking him, a lot. Maybe I could nip this in the bud then, so I can still like him for the remainder of my stay.

  “No. Look, Mason. I see that you have money. This is a nice place and all. You’re obviously a techie and techies make good money. I’m cool with that.”

  “Sam, that’s not…”

  “Please, just listen. If you’re also famous, I don’t care. You’re not famous to me. My dad has some famous clients, some rich and famous friends. I don’t like any of them, quite honestly. But so far, I like you––quite a lot, actually––and I’d like to keep on liking you, if that’s alright with you.“

  “Samantha…wow! That’s not…I didn’t mean it like that.” He snorts, but once again he’s eyeing me with a new respect. “Maybe that didn’t come out quite the way I intended. I’m trying to…ugh, this is weird. Awkward.”

  “Well I’m sorry but I am not the kind of person who gets star-struck. And I’m not up on cutting edge science and technology. Don’t get me wrong, it’s very interesting. And cool! I’d love to learn more about it and all, but I haven’t paid much attention to STEM stuff up ’til now.”

  He’s watching my mouth again as I’m talking. He’s taking bites of food and chewing but I can tell he’s trying not to laugh.

  “You’re laughing. Why are you laughing?” I’m trying to stay annoyed but he’s making it impossible. That smile…those eyes. “What?”

  “Samantha. It’s important to me that you aren’t here because you know who I am. That’s what I’m getting at. Just as it’s important to me to keep that information from Andrew’s mother, as long as I can.”

  “Oh.” I look at him sheepishly.

  “Yeah.” He nods, chuckling. “I was never famous in my own right. My family was, though. You might know the name. But, my name is no longer the same. I changed it when I came of age.”

  “Really? That sounds kind of…serious. Why would you do that? To avoid publicity?”

  “Yes. The thing I care about now is this: If Andrew’s mother found out, it might change her mind about everything. I mean, I don’t know her. Maybe not! But…it could. It would for most people, I think. No offence to your dad, but a lot of lawyers are sharks. She could get a lawyer who sees nothing but dollar signs, okay? A lawyer who pushes her to use the situation to try getting the sympathy of the courts, maybe even get everything overturned and gain custody and child support for herself.”

  “Bullshit! The courts would see right through that!”

  “Would they? Even if they did, they always err on the side of parental access…or at least, keeping those options open. If she were to try to make a case for it, maybe they’d believe that she relinquished her rights under duress. Maybe they’d think I pressured her. Maybe they’d give her access or even, custody, and force me to pay her child support.”

  “She…wait. You didn’t pressure her, did you?”

  “No! She contacted me out of the blue. I didn’t know she was pregnant. I don’t even know what her problem is, why she can’t be a mother. She wouldn’t talk to me about it and in the end, it doesn’t matter. So? What am I supposed to do? I have to worry about my son now.”

  “Yes, I agree. He’s the priority.”

  “Right. So your dad got her to give us what medical history she knows, give up her rights and that’s it. All I know is…as soon as I found out that Andrew is mine, and that she didn’t want him, I knew I had to do everything I could to bring him home. Where he belongs.”

  “And if she does show up…?”

  “Your father and I discussed this extensively. If she finds out who I am a long time from now, but hasn’t shown any interest in her son in the interim, then she won’t be a threat. She’ll have no chance with the courts and I can grant or deny or control her access, according to my best judgement. But if she shows up now, or even in the near future…? Who knows.”

  Chapter Six

  “My dad thinks this could happen?” My voice is raised a notch. I’m scowling in disbelief.

  “He’s saying to err on the side of caution.” Mason’s expression is hardening. I can see that he wants me on board with this and is prepared to argue the point. “We don’t know this girl, she’s distraught, she could be nuts, who knows what’s going on with her.” He pauses, looking intently into my eyes. “The main thing for me is, she couldn’t sign over her child fast enough,” he says, emphatically. “Does that sound like someone in a good place to you?”

  “No.” I shake my head sadly. “But, how’d she know you’re in a good place? That’s what I wanna know. What guarantee did she have that her child would be safe with you? A DNA test doesn’t make you a good father.”

  “Exactly. She thinks I’m just a programmer. So she knows I have a job, that’s all. The night we met, she came to my place with me. Not this pl
ace, my condo in Columbus. It’s small but decent. I told her I own it. Apart from that, she doesn’t know me either.”

  “Jesus. I wonder what her deal is? Mason, why didn’t you offer to help her?”

  “I did. She refused. She does NOT want to have this child. Period. But if she finds out I have money…? Suddenly that might change. I don’t want the courts to give my son to a woman who only wants him because his father has money. Don’t you get that?”

  “Of course. If my dad thinks it could be a problem, then, I believe him. I still think maybe you’re making too much of it. Not everyone is impressed with money.”

  “Samantha? Trust me. We’re not making too much of it.”

  As he speaks, he sits up straight and leans back. His eyes are fierce, boring into mine. For the first time, his voice is raised. He sounds very stern. Even, grim.

  “Okay Mason. Okay.” I nod. “But I still don’t want to know who you are. Don’t tell me. I don’t give a shit anyway.”

  He glares at me for another moment. Then his posture and his gaze soften. Papa Bear goes away and becomes Mason again. He blinks, regarding me with what looks, for all the world, like tenderness.

  Affection?

  Infatuation?

  All I know is, I’m just as infatuated, if not more. His protective instincts are a good thing, a proper thing.

  A manly, sexy, fuckable thing.

  Now…I want him to feel protective about me, too. I can’t help it.

  I want him to want me too. I want those arms around me, those lips on mine and those hands…

  It’s not like I wanted or planned for this to happen. It just did.

  This man is simply getting to me. Somehow, some way. Maybe it’s something in the stars. Maybe it’s chemistry.

  I don’t know.

  His hand reaches over and covers mine, lingering, his thumb caressing my skin.

  “The fact that you don’t care makes you one of the few people I feel like I can trust.”

  He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it. Heat races from his lips through my flesh. “Sweet, beautiful girl. How the hell am I supposed to resist you? And just how the hell did you get under my skin so fast?”

  “I…I could ask you the same,” I say, face burning…and lady parts getting a little warm, as well.

  Holding my hand, he stares at me, his thumb stroking my skin.

  His touch, his words, and the way he’s looking at me slice through my being like a fiery sword, leaving me hot and wanting more.

  Much more.

  * * *

  Suddenly, I’m nervous. Self-conscious. I mentally flail around for some way to put distance between myself and this overwhelming intensity I feel with Mason.

  “Let’s…clean up,” I say, my voice faint.

  He stares at me, kisses my hand again, and then nods.

  But as we clean up the kitchen together, in silence, the air keeps throbbing between us.

  It’s not working. The intensity is still climbing, not easing off.

  Oh God.

  I can’t look at him, can’t say a word. Every cell in my body yearns towards him.

  How is it possible to be so instantly drawn to someone? This can’t be happening.

  But it is.

  Every time we get within a foot of each other, I feel a pull, like a force field.

  I want his hands on me. I want to drop my clothes and rub my body up against his.

  But I don’t. I don’t touch him.

  Instead, he touches me, every time I’m in range. Light, barely-there touches, that somehow ignite a fire in my flesh at every point of contact.

  A fire that blooms in my belly, too, and pulses and throbs in my center, making me feel loose and soft and wet.

  We move around the kitchen. A soft brush of the back of his hand on mine. A caress on the shoulder. A playful tug on my hair.

  He leans back on the counter and frankly watches me putting the left-overs away.

  I say nothing, just let the silence pulse between us.

  The air in the kitchen seems thick with lust.

  Wetter. Warmer.

  I’m aching to kiss him. Aching to be kissed; by a man I just met…this morning!

  I can totally see how he seduced the mother of his son. And in even less time than he’s had with me. They only sat together in a bar for a few hours.

  I’ve been with him for the last twelve hours, many of those hours filled with unspoken sexual tension.

  He could have whomever he wants. I have no doubt about that.

  I wipe the table and counters down as Mason loads the dishwasher. We meet at the sink, me to wash out the cloth, Mason to rinse his hands.

  Standing next to each other, even for a minute, is like fuel to the fire.

  “I feel like I’m being pulled towards you,” he whispers, looking out the window.

  Shock lances through me. Now he’s reading my thoughts?

  I’m trying to remember what my mother told me only this morning. Watch yourself. There’s a child involved.

  He slides closer, and now the length of his long leg is touching mine. He’s so much taller than me, my hip only reaches about halfway up his ass.

  His tight, round, muscled ass.

  I have to put a stop to this. I’m creaming my panties. I’m dripping.

  “We should…we need to bathe the baby,” I say, a little hoarsely. I clear my throat. “Give him a nice warm bath, and…”

  Standing next to me at the sink, he casually places his hand on the small of my back. Heat radiates from it and sinks into my flesh.

  It feels incredibly good.

  I can’t look at him.

  His palm follows the curve of my ass to that tender spot down low, where my cheeks part on either side of my pussy. His fingers trail over those sensitive areas, his touch so light, so slow, yet its path seems to burn, focused and intense like the sun shining through a magnifying glass.

  I can’t help it. I let out a low moan and my back arches to push my body into his touch, without any thought or volition of my own.

  “Samantha,” he whispers. “C’mere.”

  With his other hand, he grabs my waist and turns me towards him, pressing my body closely against his.

  Electricity.

  Both his hands are on my ass now, both cupping it low down, massaging and kneading it, holding me tightly, pressing his erection into my belly, so hard I can feel it throbbing against me.

  My arms go around his waist and hold on tight. But I still…it’s too intense. I can’t meet his eyes.

  He cuddles me close, one hand going to the back of my head, holding it against his chest. His mouth is on my hair, kissing my head, traveling down to my ear, now my cheek, and my jaw, his lips tracking heat as they seek out my own, his breath rising, coming faster.

  My pussy clenches and throbs, my need making itself felt insistently. My nipples are like points, pressing against Mason’s hard, defined chest. Every movement we make stimulates them, sparkles of pleasure on a direct line to my clit.

  My need is so insistent, it threatens to overwhelm me. I turn my head away, a last-ditch grasp at sanity, a last grab at my life as it was just yesterday… a last attempt to swim away from the heat that threatens to engulf me, that feels like it’ll burn me alive with lust.

  Yet, I never wanted anything more.

  “Ahhh, baby…” his lips on the tender skin under my jaw, making my toes curl and my hips squirm. “You’re so lovely, so lovely…”

  Oh why is he doing this to me why, why? He’s calling me baby…I wanna be his baby..so bad…but we can’t, we shouldn’t…oh God!

  “Mason,” I moan, my voice husky, senseless words spilling out, “please…don’t ‘baby’ me! This is…you have a child, we shouldn’t…” His hands rub my back, his body rocking mine. “You…you’re making me want you…:

  “I want you too,” he whispers…and his mouth is on me, breathing warm puffs on my hair and skin, kissing and nibbling my neck, and his rock-
hard erection is prodding my belly.

  I’m so hot now, so hot, my juices soak right through my panties.

  My need is so profound, so intense, it rises from my spine, from my soul, making my body convulse in his arms.

  My hand finds his cock and grips it. “Mmm,” he moans, swaying against me.

  And his hands find my breasts in return, thumbing my nipples as his cock throbs in my grasp.

  I’m panting…now, his hand goes to my cleft, fingers stroking, teasing, inflaming.

  “Oh shit, Mason, I hope we’re not making a mistake…”

  He hesitates, but, even as I say the words, my hands go under his arms, and my fingers dig into his back, holding him close, pulling his shoulders towards me…like I’ll never let go.

  A growl rumbling deep in his chest, his hands are in my hair now, holding my head, raising my chin, his mouth chasing mine.

  Our lip crash together in a searing first kiss, so deep, so good, tongue seeking tongue, all thoughts disappearing, burning in the raging fire.

  Too late to stop. Too late now.

  * * *

  He takes me by the hand and together, we go to his bedroom.

  We look in on the baby, who’s still sleeping.

  Sweet, dear little lamb!

  I am a complete pile of goo. This smallest of families, a man and his child, have totally captured my heart, in no time flat.

  God bless this child, and his father. Hell, even his mother, whatever her issues are.

  And may God bless me too because Mom was right.

  I am falling in love with this man and his child.

  Mason smiles at me, holds up a finger, then disappears into his bathroom before coming right back out, showing me the condom package he has in his hand.

  I nod. I’m on the pill, but, better safe than sorry.

  He cranes his neck to look into the bassinet once more. Still smiling, he holds his finger to his mouth “Shhh…”

  Then, holding his arms way out from his body, he starts tiptoeing in a greatly exaggerated fashion, his smile turning in to a crooked, goofy grin.

  His erection, still tenting his soft lounge pants, bounces comically.

  I have to cover my giggle with both hands.

  Still tiptoeing like something out of an old Spy Vs Spy comic, he grabs my hand, whispering, “Walk this way, please,”