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Secret Baby: Billionaire Stepbrother

Page 2

by Dance, Candy


  I stood back and let Beck haul the playpen out, as if he was using only one finger, and I didn’t watch his upper arm muscle bulge when he did it. Just then Bart pulled my hair so hard I winced, because his little fist got tangled, and I started hopping around.

  “Ouch, ouch, Bartie!” I exclaimed.

  I couldn’t turn my head to look because of the way Bart was hooked into my hair as I tried to feel with my other hand to get him loose, while he unknowingly pulled so hard it brought tears to my eyes.

  Then Beck’s big hand was there. “Hold still, you two,” he ordered.

  Like an expert or something, he slowly freed Bart’s hand from being tangled in my hair. Once Bart’s hand was free, Beck’s knuckles rubbed my skull on the most painful spot, as he asked, “You okay?”

  I dared looking up into his gray eyes and became lost for several seconds, as I murmured, “Yes, thanks. Usually it takes months to get good enough to figure out how to fix something like that with babies. You seem to have a knack.”

  Why had I said that? Was I insane?

  I had to keep Beck, Bart, and any closeness between them so far apart, it never happened. But damn it that was hard to do with him standing right next to me, and looking at my lips as if—

  “I’ll bring all your stuff in, you take Bart inside, it’s getting too cold out here for him,” Beck said, with his features closing off and the desirous look leaving him.

  I knew Beck’s hot looks from experiencing months of them, and he had nearly had one, which he’d then stopped. I really needed to learn from Beck, I thought, retreating to cart Bart back into the house.

  I went back to my room, which looked like I was still in high school, and put Bart on the bed, where he promptly tried to roll off. It was a good thing I had brought his playpen, because it was going to work as his bed for the trip.

  Beck hauled everything from my car up into my childhood room, until the last thing, my suitcase, would not fit. He stood with it by his feet, right outside the door.

  “You need all this for just one baby?” he asked, with his dark hair tousled and his handsome face not revealing much, like what he thought about me suddenly having a baby.

  I nodded solemnly. “And it still might not be enough. I’m sure I’ll have to make a couple trips to the store.”

  For the first time since I’d arrived, Beck’s features relaxed slightly, and I knew I’d managed to nearly make him smile.

  “Well, some of it’s going to have to come into my room or you two won’t fit in there.”

  I nearly giggled. “Okay, I have to have the playpen and I’ll need room to open it, and then I need that bag so I can express.”

  I realized what I’d said too late—and who I had said it too. As I caught Beck’s lifted eyebrow and intense interest, which made me blush, damn it.

  “It’s a natural thing,” I said, defensively.

  “You don’t breast-feed?” His voice was deeper than before.

  I couldn’t believe I was having this conversation with my stepbrother, and I didn’t know how to get out of it. But pictures of him watching me do it flashed in my mind, and somehow my body thought that was erotic. Then my body flushed and my already damp panties from being around Beck got damper.

  “No, I had to work,” I said, and I felt myself release a little bit of milk, my eyes widened and I slapped my hands to my breasts. I wanted to moan.

  “You okay?” Beck asked, and I could hear he was shoving things out of the way to move into the room.

  No, I just want you to suck on my milky nipples, I thought insanely.

  But I held my hand up to stop him, and out loud I gasped, “No, I’m okay, really. It’s just, um, time to, ah, express. So ah—”

  I looked up and saw Beck had backtracked to the doorway. I could tell by the look on his face that he knew exactly what was happening to me, and it had affected him like it had affected me.

  Then he asked harshly, “Where’s the damn father?”

  It was a demand, and it stunned me, because I’d never considered anyone would ask for some stupid reason. I’d been so focused on making sure no one guessed the truth.

  So I stuttered like I was in high school. “I-I ... just some guy from a bar.”

  Then I grabbed Bart and held him to my chest, hugging him. I knew my gaze was pleading with Beck to just accept my explanation, and leave it alone.

  I muttered more, “I was a mess. You know why. I made a stupid mistake.” Then I looked away from him. “I’m not going to regret it though, because Bart means everything to me.”

  When I looked back, Beck was gone.

  ***

  Then things just got worse, because after Bart’s bottle and nap, mom and dad insisted on dragging all of us to AJ’s Pub. I’d gotten so caught in my own drama that I hadn’t known Beck had such good news.

  Apparently he’d sold his company that had taken all his time for several years. That had been good for us, until that fateful night, because it had kept us apart much of the time. I had hated his company and work, and resented it back then.

  Still, I didn’t think taking Bart to AJ’s was such a hot idea, but they all vetoed me, and I knew kids did go there a lot with their parents. It really was an old fashioned neighborhood bar.

  “Beck, I don’t know,” I said, still unsure, while Beck lifted Bart in his car seat up over the heads of some patrons leaving AJ’s. They must have known mom and dad, because they all stopped to gab behind us.

  Beck kept us going, and I couldn’t help but have feelings as if the three of us were a family unit, and it made me secretly yearn.

  Beck headed to a booth and he set Bart down, who was sucking on a bottle looking at everything, then I scooted in next to Bart and Beck sat across from us. The bar was kind of busy, but most of the people were standing up by the bar in groups of three people deep.

  Bart was fascinated by the new place and he struggled to sit up so I put a hand behind his effort.

  “Hey, buddy, cool stuff, huh,” Beck said to Bart.

  I had noticed whenever Beck’s deep voice sounded, it got Bart’s attention.

  Then Beck looked at me. “We’ll give the folks their fifteen minutes, and then we’ll find an excuse to get out of here.”

  I looked at him gratefully. “Thanks, Beck.”

  Beck looked out into the bar as I studied his profile. He’d obviously taken up not shaving his heavier whiskers twice a day like he used to, so now he had the shadow a lot of guys sported. I liked it, damn him. It made him look even hotter.

  Bart swayed and I looked at him a second, steadying him, before I turned my gaze back.

  “So really congratulations,” I said to Beck. “Murray said you sold your company.”

  Beck turned to look at me. “That’s all he said?” he asked.

  “Yeah,” I said, wondering what else there was to say. But Beck just looked at me with his edged features.

  “So I hope you’re happy about it,” I prompted; I knew he’d worked so hard.

  “It’s not as simple as just selling the company, Millie,” Beck said.

  He made me instantly curious, but then we were interrupted, and he didn’t get to finish, as the cocktail waitress swooped in on us.

  “Beck! Oh my God, I can’t believe it’s you! It’s been so long,” Roxanne Zimmer exclaimed, at least she used to be Zimmer in high school, and she used to be the head cheerleader, and she used to date Beck.

  Then in a voice she’d always used with me and bordered on snotty, she added, “Here with your little sister.”

  I opened my mouth at the same time Beck did, to say what we always said, that we were steps and not related. But we looked at each other and we seemed to come to some silent agreement that we were older, we were adults, and we didn’t have to freaking remind everybody about that all the time.

  It was their issue, not ours. We had enough issues. Trust me.

  “You work here?” Beck asked, and I wanted to hug him at the tone he’d used, whic
h said he couldn’t believe how the mighty had fallen.

  Instantly Roxanne got it, and her back straightened, and then her cheeks got red.

  “It’s temporary,” she snapped. Then she added, “I’m just helping them out. But you’re too big now for this small town and its drama.” Then she looked over at the baby, and in an ugly voice said, “It’s indecent, if that is yours and your sister’s.”

  She’d said the last of it loud enough for the whole bar to hear, and there were some heads turning toward us, as my chest got tight.

  Beck’s lips got hard and his eyes started blazing. “Not fucking going to even respond to that shit, but you can bring us two long necks, like a good waitress.”

  Beck’s angry eyes turned to me, shutting Roxanne out, as he tightly said, “Fucking place has turned into a dive, and I’m not sure Bart should be in here.”

  Roxanne gasped with an offended sound, and then she swished away. I couldn’t help the giggle that spurted past my lips. I grabbed Beck’s hand on the table across from me.

  I half-whispered and half-exclaimed, “I’ve wanted to get her for so long. That was epic.”

  The anger in Beck’s eyes cooled and his firm lips quirked upward. “Did feel kind of good, boo. I feel like I should apologize for ever dating her, but I was a teenager and the offer to see boobs was just too much to overcome.”

  I bit my lip to keep from outright laughing, while a warm shock spread through me, and I saw Beck’s eyes widened when he realized what he had just called me. It was his main pet name for me. I jerked my hand away from his as if he’d burn me, then I tried to ignore that he’d called me by that intimate name.

  Instead, I turned to Bart and started fussing over him. Then mom and dad came by long enough to dump some cheap champagne on us for a toast to Beck. They remembered to add a toast to my new baby, then they were dragged off by local friends. Beck and I had been through this growing up, because our parents were kind of neighborhood barflies, and it seemed time hadn’t changed that.

  I finally figured out mom hadn’t been coming to the bar since her and dad split, and apparently dad hadn’t come at all, so it looked like they were making up for lost time. They were both laughing too loud and acting too much like they were newly in love.

  Beck threw some money on the table, and then he looked me directly in the eye. “Let’s get the fuc—” He stopped and started again. “Let’s damn well get the hell out of here, boo.”

  This time he’d said my pet name deliberately, no mistakes, and it made places soften inside me that I shouldn’t allow getting soft towards him. But with him trying not to cuss in front of Bart, it just made it worse.

  God, I wish I could tell him.

  “Okay, handsome.”

  I couldn’t believe I had used one of my pet names for him, and it made me gulp, but Beck was already reaching to get Bart. A smoldering slide glance of his eyes told me that he’d heard the slip. I knew I should not leave with him. Not alone. I should stay and brave the bar, but I’d never had a lot of willpower where Beck was concerned.

  But right before we made it out of the bar’s front door, a hammer came crashing down, when Roxanne got her final dig in, which she tossed at us before we were through the doorway.

  “Well, that baby looks just like Beck, anyone can see that.”

  I nearly screamed and grabbed Bart from Beck so I could run. My entire body jumped to do it. It was so hard to look up at Beck to judge his reaction once we were outside on the sidewalk. I never should have looked, and I never ever should have come back home.

  Chapter Three

  Beck was quiet the entire time he drove Millie and Bart back to their parent’s house, while his mind turned in hard circles. Once he got them back inside the house, he sat back and watched Millie taking care of Bart, which he hadn’t had a chance to do yet. Her old bedroom was too small to take care of a baby in so she did half of it in the den. Changing Bart’s diaper, putting him in a onesie, and then came the bottle.

  The more Beck looked Bart over, the more suspicious he became. And the more he watched them, the more nervous Millie was. Suddenly, Beck stood and he prowled over to Millie.

  “Let me give him his bottle,” he said, looking down into her bottomless black eyes, and the fear he’d seen on occasion from her was making more and more sense. “Get to know my nephew,” he said, with an edge in his deep voice.

  Millie looked as if she was going to clutch Bart and run. That nearly made Beck positive, and his anger started to boil, but he held it in check and reached down for the baby that could possibly be his damn son.

  He’d babysat when he was a kid—always looking to make money and build something was in his blood. So he knew how to give baby bottles. The look Millie gave him showed her fear and uncertainty as he held Bart in the crook of his arm. Bart was sleepy and willing to lay back.

  The minute the boy got the nipple his eyelids drew half-mast, and Beck felt it hard in his chest. He half stumbled to sit down, before he fell. Then he didn’t look at Millie again, afraid she’d read his face.

  He wondered how he didn’t see it right away. He wasn’t a damn idiot, how come he hadn’t noticed? It had taken a vindictive woman, which he’d barely dated, to make him see ... and he was disgusted by that. A man should just know his own son deep down. Maybe it was because it was so unbelievable; a brother and sister having a baby.

  No, he snapped silently in his mind: a stepbrother and stepsister. If everybody in the whole world besides him and her would remember that.

  Bart’s little fingers curled around his hand holding the bottle up for him, and Bart languidly explored his hand. Beck looked at his son’s amazing face and felt his little body warm against his chest. He was awed. Bart cooed and nudged his head closer to his chest with a heavy sigh.

  Damn, Beck had never thought about having a family. Not since he and Millie had exploded apart. He was too stupid back then to think about it, but if they hadn’t busted up, he was sure he would have soon.

  He’d certainly thought about getting her soft belly round with child, but that had been in a I-want-to-fill-you-with-my-come way. He’d never gotten to the family part, because their relationship was already so forbidden.

  Bart sucked the bottle dry with his eyes closed, and Beck lifted it from his mouth. He was content only to sit there and hold him. He’d always been a deep thinker and he needed to work through his anger ... something he wasn’t sure he could do.

  “I’ll put him to bed.” Millie’s soft voice filled with uncertainty floated above him.

  Immediately, Beck felt like not letting go. He resented her trying to take the boy away from him. It was on the tip of his tongue to waylay her, but then his anger decided he wanted to see if he could get her to admit it.

  “When is his birthday?” Beck asked.

  Millie nearly stumbled, while holding the baby, and he had to grasp her from behind to steady her as he followed her into her old bedroom. It pissed him off that he appreciated her lush figure more now that she’d grown out of her youthful slenderness. Back then her hot little body was tight, but he’d been immature, because curves were what a man wanted.

  He didn’t want to want her—she’d taken something so important out of his life, it was cruel.

  “A-ah,” she stuttered. “It’s in April.”

  Beck took his hands away from her, and he tightly accused, “You don’t know the date of your baby’s birth?”

  Beck could see her back stiffen, right before she bent to lay Bart in the playpen amongst some covers she’d spread out there earlier.

  “He’s really tired. We need to be quiet. We are both beat,” she said stiffly.

  She didn’t rise up from fussing with Bart, and it was obviously her way of brushing him off.

  Beck nearly started something, demanding to know the truth. But he hadn’t become a fucking billionaire for no reason. He always plotted his moves and he never went with superficial feelings. No, he had to think this through; it was
too massive to just jump into.

  He didn’t want Millie to know he knew, in case he decided to do something about it that she would not agree with like demanding time with his son, joint custody, or even full custody. It would be better if he kept his damn mouth shut, and thought things through first.

  “Yeah, okay,” he muttered, and he turned and left the room.

  Once he was in his room, he laid back on his bed with his legs crossed, trying to come to terms with this thing that had gut-punched him. He’d never thought it could be possible to be so mad at Millie, because he loved her, damn it. Even when they’d broken apart because they couldn’t believe what they’d done together, and they couldn’t come to terms with how they could put their life into it ... he still hadn’t hated her.

  She’d been more about appearances and crap. It was a small town and people would vilify them, he knew that. But what he hadn’t been able to get across to her was they hadn’t had to stay there. In fact, neither of them had.

  After they had broken apart and his heart had been sore for so long, he’d thought about it, and he decided he had just been working so much he’d never given their situation enough of his time. If he had only been present more of the time, instead of running off to work, he might have convinced her and they might have worked it out.

  Now he had so much fucking money, he could buy her agreement. His eyes narrowed. Yes, he was that ruthless, if he wanted something. And now that he was ninety-nine percent sure Bart was his, he was not giving Bart up. He just wasn’t sure if he could get past his anger at Millie keeping something this important away from him—for taking all the decisions away from him. That hadn’t been her right.

  Chapter Four

  I knew my stepbrother well enough to know something massively dark was working on him. I was terrified it had something to do with that comment Roxanne had made. I kept going back and forth; one minute thinking he knew, and the next minute convincing myself he couldn’t know. I was driving myself so crazy, I cried myself to sleep.

 

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