What Makes A Father. Teresa Southwick

might be prejudiced, but these are the most beautiful babies I’ve ever seen. Although I don’t see much of Mason in them.”

      “Gee, thanks, Ma,” he teased.

      “I didn’t mean it like that, son.” She smiled at him. “It’s just that they look a lot like you, Annie.”

      She pressed her cheek to baby Sarah’s. “There was a strong resemblance between my sister and me.”

      “Then she was very beautiful,” his mom said.

      “She was,” Annie agreed.

      The subtext was that Annie was beautiful, too, and Mason couldn’t agree more. Today she was professionally dressed in slacks, a silky white blouse and black sweater. Low-heeled pumps completed the outfit, but he missed her bare feet. Her straight, silky blond hair fell past her shoulders and she was wearing makeup for the first time since he’d met her. And he’d been right. She was a knockout.

      “Well, you two, now that everything is under control, I’ll be going.” Florence grabbed her purse, kissed Mason on the cheek and smiled fondly at her grandbabies. “It was wonderful to meet you, Annie. You don’t need my approval, but it has to be said that you’ve done a remarkable job with your children. And I sincerely meant what I said. Call me if you need anything.”

      “Thank you, Mrs. Blackburne—”

      “It’s Flo.” She patted Annie’s shoulder. “’Bye.”

      And then the two of them were alone, each holding a baby, and Mason wondered what Annie was thinking.

      “So that was my mom.”

      “You have her eyes.”

      He’d heard that before. “It turns out that when one of my children is crying because he or she has needs that I can’t instantly meet, it’s not something I manage very well.”

      “As flaws go, it’s not an exceptionally bad one to have,” she conceded. “So you called your mom.”

      “Yeah.”

      “And if I got home later and your mom was gone, would you have let me believe you sailed through your first time alone with them trouble free?”

      He would have wanted to. There was the whole male pride thing, after all. But… “No. I’d have told you she’d been here.”

      “Why?”

      “Because that’s the truth and it’s the right thing to do.” He shrugged and a dozing Charlie squirmed a little against his shoulder.

      “I’m not sure I believe you.”

      He remembered her saying she was a skeptic and had her reasons. Skepticism was rearing its ugly head now. “In time you’ll be convinced that I embrace the motto that cheaters never prosper.”

      “And in time, if I’m convinced, something tells me your mom is responsible for that honest streak.”

      “Oh?”

      “Yeah. She’s really something.”

      “She’s just excited and happy to finally have even one grandchild. In her world twins is winning the lottery.”

      “I didn’t mean that as a criticism.” There was a baby quilt on the sofa beside him. Annie took it and spread the material on the floor in front of the coffee table. She put Sarah on it then sat next to him. “I meant just the opposite. She’s full of energy in the best possible way. The kind of supportive, protective mother I wish my mom had been. The kind I want to be.”

      That little kernel of information reminded Mason that he didn’t know much about her. The night they’d been getting acquainted he’d given her some facts about himself. She’d only offered up what she did for a living and then he’d held her when she’d cried. He hadn’t been able to focus on much besides the soft curves of her body and hadn’t noticed how little he’d learned. Now he was becoming aware of how guarded she was. And it wasn’t just about protecting Charlie and Sarah. She held parts of herself back and he wondered why.

      He stood with Charlie in his arms, then moved to the blanket on the floor and gently settled the sleeping baby next to his sister. After stretching his cramped muscles, he met Annie’s gaze. “So, what you just said implies that your mother wasn’t supportive.”

      “She had issues.”

      He waited for more but that was it. “Had? Does that mean she passed away?”

      “No. She lives in Florida with her husband.” When Sarah let out a whimper, Annie jumped up as if she’d just been waiting for an excuse to end this conversation. “Did she have a bottle?”

      “No.”

      “Okay.” Annie scooped up the baby and went into the kitchen to get a bottle from the refrigerator.

      Mason didn’t claim to be a specialist in the area of feelings but it didn’t take a genius to see that Annie wasn’t comfortable talking about herself. Either she was hiding something or there was a lot of pain in the memories. So now he knew she was a graphic artist, had adored her sister and missed her terribly. And there was stuff in her past that she didn’t want to talk about.

      That was okay. She was the mother of his children and he wasn’t going anywhere. In his experience as an ER doc, he’d learned that often people held things back but eventually the facts came out. And he wanted all the facts about his children’s legal guardian.

       Chapter Three

      Several weeks after Mason walked into her life Annie got her first really powerful blast of mom guilt. There had been some minor brushes with the feeling, but this one was a doozy.

      Because of him, and by extension his mother, Florence, everything had changed. For the better, she admitted. The woman was fantastic with the twins so when she’d offered to watch them while Annie went to a mandatory meeting in the office, she’d gratefully accepted.

      It had only been a few hours ago that Annie had walked out of her apartment but it felt like days. She checked her phone to make sure there were no messages. The empty screen mocked her and she felt the tiniest bit disposable, followed by easily replaceable. There was a healthy dose of exhilaration for this unexpected independence mixed with missing her babies terribly. The verdict was in. She was officially conflicted and on the cusp of crazy.

      If all that wasn’t guilt-inducing enough, she was going to have a grown-up girlfriend lunch. She should call it off and go be with Charlie and Sarah. Even as that thought popped into her head, she saw Carla Kellerman walking toward her with a food bag. Her friend had stopped to pick up something, as promised. So if Annie bugged out now, Carla would be inconvenienced. She would just have to eat fast.

      “Hi.” Carla came into her cubicle and smiled.

      This woman was completely adorable. Perky and shiny. Straight, thick red hair fell past her shoulders and went perfectly with her warm brown eyes. She had the biggest, friendliest smile ever. And a soft, mushy heart. The occasional loss of her temper was almost always on someone else’s behalf and made her completely human. As flaws went, it was adorable.

      “I forgot how much I love this office,” her friend said, looking around. “If I didn’t already have a job, I would want to work here.”

      C&J Graphic Design occupied the top floor of an office building on the corner of C Street and Jones Boulevard in the center of Huntington Hills. The light wood floor stretched from the boss’s office at one end of the long, narrow room to the employees’ lounge at the other. Overhead track lighting illuminated cubicles separated by glass partitions. The environment had a collaborative vibe and Annie loved seeing her coworkers’ creative ideas and them having easy access to hers.

      “Hi, yourself.” Her stomach growled. Loud.

      “Apparently