Page 124 of Hell Hath No Fury
Mason rolled down the window. “It was designed to attract butterflies. Restore some of the species that have become endangered.”
And then there was the house.
He’d replaced all the chipped siding. It had a new roof. The big front door had been painted a deep, welcoming blue. And the porch…
“Is that a ramp?”
“Yes.” Mason put his SUV in park. “The mansion is fully accessible now.”
He led me inside, and I burst into tears.
It wasn’t an empty shell. Not anymore. He’d taken the house down to its bones and built it up again, painting and finishing and making it new. I walked straight through to the kitchen.
“My mother’s roses?”
He’d left the roses in her conservatory. Someone had cared for them. They’d refreshed the gardens in the backyard, too, and installed a sprawling playground.
“The first family comes this week,” he said, while I sobbed about the playground.
“Family?” I turned around to find Mason watching me, pride in his eyes.
“It’s a temporary home subsidized by Phoenix Industries. The families who come here don’t have to pay a dime. They come for their children to have medical procedures done. This way they don’t have to stay in a motel. This way their child can come home to a comfortable house.”
“This is better”—I really couldn’t stop sobbing—“than tearing it down.”
So, yes. I have an enormous crush on him. I also didn’t tell my mother that he’s the one who sold her the apartment we picked out together. Or that he put the money from the sale in a high-yield account that she can access when she decides to formally retire. For now, she consults with her old garden club.
I feel a little guilty that life is this good.
Mason’s sitting in his office, his legs stretched out underneath his desk. He’s looking at some papers, his expressionveryserious. His pen scratches against those papers.
I lean against the doorframe. My skin tingles at the sight of him. “Phoenix Industries can wait until morning, don’t you think?”
He looks up, and when his green eyes catch mine, his expression softens. His gaze trails up and down my body, lingering on my belly. It’s not round yet. It won’t be for several months. But I can see him anticipating it, even as he looks for signs that I don’t feel well. If I gave him any hint that something was wrong, he’d have a whole team of doctors here within minutes.
Mason holds an arm out to me, gesturing me over. “This isn’t for Phoenix.”
“What?”
I go to him, sinking into his lap. Mason pushes the paper aside. It’s meant to be casual, but it’s too smooth. He’s trying to hide this from me.
So I kiss his cheek and reach for the paper.
He sighs, tugging me closer, but he doesn’t stop me.
Estate Trust and Living Will,it reads.
What?
There are bullet points underneath. Paragraphs. It’s a plan, and an elaborate one. Mason has made notes on things he wants to change or research. There’s a section for a college fund. A trust fund for our unborn child. And a…retirement fund?
I drop it onto the desk and put my arms around his neck. “Mason.” I’m exasperated, but damn it, I love him so much. “Don’t you think you’re worrying a little too far into the future? I thought I was over the top with the birth plan, but remembering to bring my favorite pillow and birthing ball are nothing compared to this.”
He brushes a lock of hair away from my cheek. “It never hurts to be prepared.”
Mason’s tone is light.Solight. Light like tulle, or another gossamer fabric. It’stoolight, actually. I look deeper into his eyes and find shadows there. Stress. I can see it in his body the way I’d see a garment that doesn’t fit quite right.
That’s to be expected, I think. Parenthood is a big deal. Mason raised his siblings after his parents died, but a new baby is a different ballgame. Anyone would be nervous.
