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Picking up his toys, she stuffed them in the bag. Babies had a lot of shit.
“Are you all right? You seem to be in a hurry,” her mother said frowning.
“Mom, I’m tired. I just want to go home, give Wyatt his bath, hold him while I feed him, and then put him to bed. We’re both going to be climbing in bed at the same time. I’m exhausted.”
And it wasn’t a lie. The emotional stress of seeing Blake was more than she could take right now. It was hard enough being a single mother and now the baby’s father was sniffing around trying to find out about Wyatt.
Plus, she’d had a really crappy day with the drunk passenger. It was days like this that reminded her why she painted. To escape reality and hopefully someday make a mint. A big enough amount that she could quit being a stewardess.
“I understand, dear,” she said. “I made you a plate for dinner that you can take home and eat.”
Oh, that was a relief. One less thing to worry about.
“Thanks, Mom,” she said wishing that she didn’t feel bad about suspecting her of being the one to send Blake looking for Wyatt.
She handed it to her at the door. “Be careful driving home.”
She kissed Wyatt on the forehead. “Grammy says good night. Love you, sweet child.”
Wyatt kicked his feet.
“Thanks for taking care of him, Mom,” she said.
“Of course, dear,” she said and didn’t mention it was what his father should be doing.
With a sigh, Cristina walked out the door. She put the baby in his carrier and then began the drive home to her apartment.
Sighing, she wondered when Lauren would return her call.
When she pulled up in front of her apartment, she glanced around before she got out of the car. Lifting Wyatt from his carrier, she grabbed the diaper bag and her purse.
“Come on, sweet boy, we’ll give you a bath and then feed you before you go to bed.”
When she turned, Blake stood in the parking lot right in front of her. Crap! What did she do now?
“Is that my son?”
Damn it to hell. She’d been so careful, but she’d not thought he remembered where she lived.
What could she say? There was no denying the child in her arms. What choice did she have but to tell him the truth? Damn it!
“Come inside, Blake,” she said. “And meet your son Wyatt.”
CHAPTER 8
Rage unlike anything Blake had ever felt filled him. The woman had kept her pregnancy from him. She’d even lied to him in the cafe. But then again, she hadn’t lied, she just hadn’t answered his questions which only made him more suspicious.
After they parted ways, he’d found her address and parked his rental car in the back of the apartment complex and waited.
Now he hefted a baby bag while she carried his son into the apartment.
As soon as they entered her home, he saw all the baby paraphernalia scattered about the room. This was what he expected.
“Let me give him his bath, feed him, and put him down, and then we can talk,” she said. “But this is his time of night and nothing interferes with that. If you want, you can leave and we’ll talk some other time.”
That wasn’t going to happen. She had a lot of explaining to do. He wanted to know why she’d kept his son a secret from him.
“No,” he said. “I’ll help you bathe him.”
