Page 9 of Secret Baby: Billionaire Stepbrother

That did get a couple laughs out of me, as I nodded my surrender to his plan. Then we both watched to see what Bart would think about sticking that pickle wedge in his mouth. First Bart hit his cheek, then his nose, and then it sort of slid in his mouth. His gray eyes widened and he had the cutest that-is-kind-of-sour-tasting look.

I don’t think Beck knew that he’d grabbed my hand as we both laughed. Even though it looked as if Bart thought the pickle was pretty sour, he wasn’t giving up his first opportunity to gnaw on something new. It made him bounce up and down in his car seat with excitement.

Then there was a pastrami sandwich under my nose, with Beck ordering, “Eat. And, back to those deep thoughts.”

I tried once again to sidetrack him, by saying, “You remembered I like pastrami. Thanks.”

Beck’s speculating gray eyes, so much like Bart’s, took in my first bite and then he handed over a chocolate milk to me.

“I remembered the horseradish mustard too,” he said. “I also remember the ways you use to avoid subjects.”

That brought an instant hot blush to my cheeks, because one of the ways I used to get Beck off the subject was by attack kissing him, maybe even attack fondling him. We’d gone to second base dozens of times before we were finally so overcome we’d done the illicit deed.

Beck must have remembered too, because his eyes turned up the heat that I remembered so well.

Well, he had caught me; I wasn’t going to sidetrack him from that, so I finally spilled.

“Just thinking for a moment about how peoples’ judgments are so unfair.” I raised my hand and swept it around. “You know that vicious circle we’ve been through.”

Beck leaned back with one knee bent up as he took a bite of his sandwich looking at me thoughtfully.

When he’d finished chewing, he said, “No one here needs to know that. I think you introducing me as Bart’s dad was the first time you and I could ever feel something like that.”

“I know,” I whispered, with my head down.

Beck’s fingers caught my chin and lifted it, until he was searching my gaze. “It felt good,” he said, quietly.

It almost felt like he was accepting ... maybe like he was forgiving me.

“If we just never go back home,” I muttered. “Not as if that would be any huge loss.”

Beck dropped his finger from under my chin and we continued to eat, when he finally muttered, “No grandma or grandpa for Bart.”

“Yeah,” I muttered back, thinking about it.

Beck wasn’t asking for this new life to be him and me together as a couple. He was only saying that he could be out in the open and be Bart’s dad. The only two people we had to keep it from being our parents.

But, I was pretty forlorn with the feelings of separation from Beck. I wasn’t sure I could have him in my life and not desperately want him.

“We can have our own version of a witness protection program, only ours will be identity protection or step relation protection,” he said.

See, funny. Even forlorn, I couldn’t help laughing.

After that we had a great time with Bart, and together. Beck was being charming, and I tried not to read anything into it. But my body was not listening. Still, I think I hid my horny-vibes for him pretty well. I mean I’d had a lot of practice throughout the years.

I just didn’t want my runaway libido to get in the way of enjoying our fragile truce. Plus, I was pretty sure I was going to have to get used to it. Beck and I together were a done deal, and really I shouldn’t ever want him again after the way he had treated me; like I was some kind of slut or something.

It didn’t matter that I had always been a slut for Beck in my mind. He might have forgiven me to get along with me, and make Bart’s life easier and better, but that didn’t mean it had open any more doors for us.

Except for the looming one—

I bit my bottom lip, looking at Beck when he didn’t notice it, and I wondered what he’d do with the news I had about the pregnancy test. But everything was so nice right then, and I didn’t want to tell him yet, especially at work.

He found me looking at him, and he searched my face, then slight speculation came into his eyes. I swear he knew what I was thinking. Quickly I shied away from it, by turning my gaze.

“Okay, guys,” I said. “Bartie’s mom has got to get back to work.”

Beck’s firm lips compressed as if he was getting ready to get stern with me, but Bart saved me by plopping his mushed pickle on Beck’s leg.

Then when we were all cleaned up, packed up, and getting ready to go back inside, I turned to Beck and said, “I’m going to be late. I have to get this done tonight, because they have an open house on it tomorrow.”

Beck looked down at me, as he held Bart by one fist in his car seat. I sure wished I could do that.

“You don’t mind, I will take Bart to your house and stay until you get there,” he said.

“That’s so cool,” I exclaimed, grabbing his free forearm for a squeeze. Because otherwise Bart would have to stay with me and he would likely get cranky. “Thank you, and for this too, it was great.”

Beck still looked at me as if he was trying to figure something out, but then he turned away to lift Bart closer to him.

“Time for race car derby, buddy,” he said to Bart, who looked just like he knew what his dad was saying. “I’m going to beat you this time,” Beck vowed, looking so serious it made me laugh again.

That was how Beck left me ... laughing and feeling good, so when Penny showed back up, I was smiling.

“So, Bart’s dad? I thought it was a one night stand, who you could not remember.”

I looked guiltily at Penny.

“Sorry, I had to say something,” I said, with a flip of my hand. I had planned my new story, once I’d agreed to tell people that Beck was Bart’s dad. And I thought sticking as close to the truth as possible would be smart.

“Sorry about the lie,” I said first. “Beck was my boyfriend—” I started saying, and the most amazing feeling filled me at being able to say that. But I squashed it. “—and I was stupid about some gossip I heard about him, and some other complications, so I ran away from him. Later, I found out that stuff I believed ... it was totally wrong. Well, and it kept me from even thinking he wanted to know that he had a son. Then I just got caught in the fact I had never told him, and how bad that made me, once I found out the gossip was untrue.”

Penny leaned in and nudged my shoulder; she was a great assistant and a really good person. “No one would ever believe that man wasn’t great dad material and that he didn’t love it,” she said, making something blossom inside me ... like hope. “Glad you two got it figured out about Bart.”

And right like that, Beck my stepbrother was accepted into my life, far away from anyone that knew we were even related. It felt awesome.

Well, it felt amazing, until about seven that night. I had just finished up when I got a text from Beck that had me instantly hyperventilating.

It read: “Mom showed up. I fucking lied big time. Don’t show up until we can talk. I’ll call as soon as I can.”

Then I sat outside my staged house, in my SUV, and I fidgeted for twenty minutes, while wondering what in the world Beck could say to cover for this. Next, I got pissed because he and I shouldn’t have to go through these cover up things that made us crazy and stressed us out so much.

Then being braver than I had been just a year ago, I nearly started my car to go home, confront mom, and tell her that Beck and I, although not together at the moment, had had a baby and she could live with it or not. It was not illegal.

And did I freaking care what she thought to begin with? I think I cared more what the people from school, and in the small town we grew up in, thought than I did her or dad.

But I didn’t have to ever see them again, if I chose, or if any of them was my friend and they got weird over knowing about it, well then they weren’t worth being my friend. So I realized as I sat there, not going and doing it, because I couldn’t surprise Beck like that without clearing it with him, that I was finally over my cowardice about the social impact of it all.

I wanted this.

And, I’d be damned if anyone was going to get in my way of having it.

“God, I really want it to be us, though,” I said, cupping my belly, then giving it a gentle rub. “I have to try to convince him,” I muttered, right before my cell rang.

“Boo, I’m in the fucking bathroom. Bart’s in bed and mom is in the living room,” Beck uttered, without saying “hello.” He sounded very irritated and he had a right to be, as I wondered where Murray was. Before I could speak, Beck continued, “She wants fucking money. Pisses me off. She, of course, didn’t know I was here. But she came here to try to convince you to hassle me to give her the million she’s whining for.”

“Million,” I gasped.

“I am a fucking billionaire,” Beck growled.

“I know,” I whispered, but that was still really rude of mom. “I guess I don’t know what it’s like, since I’ve never been one,” I said lamely.

“The minute it happens, every person you even said ‘hi’ to in your life has their hand out,” Beck uttered, and I felt bad for him, and worse that I hadn’t realized. “Dad asked when we were there, right after hello. And mom is so busy working me over, she has forgotten to even work out why I’m here.”

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