Page 59 of Twisted Trails
Hedoes. Totally.
“You look good, Pretty Boy.”
He groans and rubs his eyes with his hand. “Can you stop with that bullshit?”
I smirk. “I’ll stop when you stop being pretty.”
My hand is still wrapped around his, and I don’t want to let go, but then a soft rattling cuts through the tension.
Toulouse.
The little traitor is hanging off the side of his open cage like that was his cue for a dramatic entrance.
Mason glances over at him. “Hey, buddy.”
The lightness when Mason looks at Toulouse has me crossing the room, scooping him up, and handing him over.
Mason cradles him like he’s precious and strokes his head as he whispers, “You’re so damn cute.”
That’s when I know.
I’m stupid for Mason Payne.
Just as stupid as I am forPetite.
And that should be a problem, because I’ve never been stupid for anyone before, and now it’s two people. But she said she’s stupid for Greer too. So maybe it’s okay to be stupid for two people?
Maybe love doesn’t have to pick sides.
Maybe she won’t mind if I don’t either.
If Mason wants that.
I watch him loving on Toulouse so closely that I see themoment his chest swells again, too fast. He’s still hurting and trying to hold it all in, and now he’ssniffling, and I’ve had enough.
“Fuck this,” I mutter, taking my son from Mason’s hands and setting him back in his cage.
“Wha—”
I scoop him up before he can finish, one arm under his knees, the other around his back. He startles, but doesn’t pull away, letting me carry him, even though he’s still all tense limbs and that unfairly gorgeous face.
He bounces softly in my arms when I sit on the bed, and I shift until his legs drape over mine, then curl my arms around his calves.
“Why are you about to cry again?” I ask, holding him tight and scanning his face.
“I don’t know. It’s just… it’s too much. I don’t know how to handle everything.”
My stomach sinks at his admission. I want to fix it all and wrap him in bubble wrap.
“Then let’s handle everything together,” I offer, meaning every word. “You don’t have to do this alone.”
He lets out a shaky breath. “That’s one of the things that’s hard to handle.”
“What is?”
His lashes lift just enough to meet my eyes, and I have to stop myself from counting every little beauty mark like I’m trying to memorize a map of him. “You.Youare difficult to handle, Luc.”
“That’s nothing new, but I’m willing to change. I’m willing to try?—”
