Page 6 of Secret Heart
“I swore her to secrecy, so he shouldn’t.”
The girls are good about things like that, no matter the secret—or the time frame. It’s still a bit disconcerting to know that Brielle was the woman my brother spent years getting over before applying to be a pack with Caleb and Brandon. Even more impressive is that Melissa and Olivia hadn’t uttered a freakingwordabout it for an entire decade. A couple weeks while I sort through figuring out the logistics of having a literal child is nothing for her.
Beau nods, a devious smirk lighting his eyes. “Sweet.”
The mischief he’s clearly calculating in regards to his brother is almost enough to have me relaxing. Instead, I say, “Really, Beau, you don’t need to sit here bored with all of this.”
“It’s not boring.” He shrugs and leans back in the chair, letting his legs widen even more. He sets one booted ankle on the opposite knee and adjusts the ball cap, pressing the sides of the bill closer together. “Even if it was, I’d still want to be here for it.”
I can’t help but frown. “Why? It’s not like you have a stake in the game at this point. You don’t have to pretend to be interested.”
He gaze whips to me, all easy relaxation gone from his body. His frown is deeper than before.
“What do you mean I don’t have a stake in this?”
My eyebrows furrow as I mirror his frown with my own.
“You heard the doctor. The paternity is negative.”
He crosses his arms, the ultrasound propped on his open knee.
“So?”
Is he really going to make me say it out loud? It’s not like I have much pride left at this point. I’d like to keep some scrap of it.
One thick eyebrow rises above those dark green eyes, and I suck in a hard breath.
Fine. I guess I don’t need any pride.
“So you’re not baby trapped.” I say the words as neutrally as I can, but a bit of bitterness sneaks in. “You don’t have to sit through this.”
His eyes flash, and the line of his jaw hardens. He uncoils himself from the chair, grabbing the ultrasound a second before it falls to the ground. His attention is unwavering as he closes the menial distance between us. Without a word, he eases the glossy bit of paper into my hand.
“What do you see in this?” he asks gruffly.
“A weird looking jelly bean I’m supposed to already have an emotional attachment to somehow.”
Beau laughs, some of the coiled frustration falling away from his body. His eyes are still bright, though. “Exactly. A jelly bean that’s going to become a baby. A baby with brown hair that’ll probably be curly and freckles that will get darker in the summer because they’ll be spending all their time trying to keep up with their cousins. They’ll love horses or flowers or birds or rocks. They’ll want to stay up all night staring at the stars trying to figure out where the constellations are.”
He eases closer to me, his knees brushing mine.
“Maybe,” I hedge. “But they’ll also cry and throw up and not sleep and need cuddles in the middle of the night. They’re goingto have heartbreaks that can’t be fixed and injuries that will have everyone around them wanting to curse the earth itself for letting them get hurt. You don’t need to subject yourself to that when it’s not even your baby.”
Beau’s eyes narrow. He pushes my knees apart, deftly wedging between them.
“Come on, you know me better than that.” He cups my cheeks, his callouses catching on my skin. “You think Caleb doesn’t think of Cam as his simply because he’s got Brandon’s genes?”
I carefully shake my head. Of course not. All three of them had loved Kayla, the Omega they’d bonded and had Camden with. Her suicide had devastated us all.
“That’s right. Camden’s just as much my brother’s and your brother’s. Doesn’t matter how he happened. That boy is theirs until the day the world stops turning.” He presses a thumb into my lips, and his voice drops an octave, a force to it I’ve rarely heard. “Emily Monroe, this baby’s mine just as much as you are. There’s no trapping happening, and I’m pissed as hell that you think that at all.”
“You’re sure?”
I hate how fragile my voice is, how thin and thready, like one mean comment will break it. Alphas are supposed to be strong and confident, the leader of the pack. Especially me, the girl who spent her childhood growing up surrounded by irritating boys who wouldn’t know subtlety or tact if it hit them across the face. I’m confident. I’m strong. I’m… I’m entirely out of my depth.
I keep my hands tucked in my lap, the ultrasound picture pressed against my thigh where it won’t get bent. I swallow to try and dislodge the lump growing in my throat. Vanilla weaves around us, soured by the fear coursing through me. Beau lets one hand slide into my hair. The empty messages on my phonefrom Triston settle like a ton of bricks on my chest. I gather my courage and give Beau the out again.
“You really don’t have to do this. This—” I gesture broadly to the small white room around us, “is a whole lot more than the summer of fun we’d all agreed to in April.”
