When Soul tired of putting on a show, she raised her arms, and Jewel scooped up her baby. She snuggled into the curve of Jewel’s neck and shoulder, and she knew she was grinning as she turned to Beck. “Thanks for playing cameraman.”
“No problem.” Businesslike, he asked for her number and sent her the video. “All set.”
They both drifted to the front door.
“Well,” he paused there.
“Sorry again about the injury to your hand,” she said. “And…I guess I’ll see you at the wedding.” It was less than a month away.
He grimaced. “I suppose.”
Her brows rose. “I, um, think you’re pretty much expected.”
One of his shoulders lifted. “Right. It’s just…” He ran his fingers through his hair, tousling it. “I have an assignment in Alaska. I could take off early.”
“And disappoint Cilla and Ren and everyone else?” Soul wiggled in Jewel’s hold, and she let the baby down, watching with half an eye as she crawled toward the basket of her toys in the adjacent living room. “You shouldn’t do that.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have come to the Canyon in the first place.”
Her eyes widened.
“Damn it, don’t look like that.” Beck once more pushed his hands through his hair. “You don’t get it. Nothing feels right. I don’t fit in.”
“Beck—”
“They’ve found something I’ll never have. They found family, and I—” He broke off, his gaze shifting to Soul who was stagger-stepping straight toward him, babbling for all she was worth and clutching her favorite soft stuffed lamb.
Clearly, he was her goal.
Beck backed up—and his alarm would have been funny if his earlier words hadn’t carved deep fissures in Jewel’s heart—until his shoulders hit the door with a thud.
They’ve found something I’ll never have.
“Should I…can’t you…” His gaze didn’t leave the child, as if he was watching something dangerous on approach. “Can’t you stop her?”
Before Jewel could do anything at all, Soul found her mark, one little arm wrapping Beck’s calf.
They’ve found something I’ll never have.
Jewel didn’t imagine he’d intended those words to be a window into his soul, but she glimpsed, now, his deep loneliness.
Before, he’d masked his inner self with a cool confidence and by the fiery, explosive sex that had distracted her from rooting deeper into what made him tick.
One lazy afternoon they’d been talking of nothing, cuddled together on her couch. She’d ventured to ask him about growing up with the Lemons. He’d looked over at her, his eyes narrowing, his expression turning hard.
A shiver had tickled down her spine. Anticipation. Desire.
“Strip,” he’d ordered.
And just like that, they were off to the races and away from anything personal.
But she knew him better now…maybe because they were connected by something so important, so precious.
A treasure. Had she seriously considered keeping it from him?
Baby Soul, her face turned up to the much taller man, just then raised her free arm high to offer the favorite toy to him.
As a sign, it didn’t get much clearer. Jewel swallowed, tamping down her anxiety. Telling the truth was the right thing to do. She’d never have managed to conceal it, anyway.
“Beck?”
“Yeah?” He was still as stone and giving Soul a wary eye.
“You have family.”
“Sure, my brothers. But they—”
“More than your brothers.” Jewel swallowed “You have a daughter. You have Soul.”
Beck’s head jerked up. His eyes bored into hers.
“She’s your child.”
Chapter 5
Beck blinked and seemed to go even more solid than before. “What the hell are you talking about?” he asked, his voice low, his tone lethal.
A new burst of anxiety rushed through Jewel. The nape of her neck heated, and she gestured toward the living room. “Why don’t you come in here and sit down?”
Still staring at her, he ignored the invitation. “What game are you playing, lady?” he demanded.
God. Now her whole body went hot. “It’s no game.”
Soul was thrusting her toy upward still, her babble getting louder as Beck continued to ignore her. Jewel came forward to pluck the baby off her feet and bring her close to her chest. Pressing her lips to Soul’s hair, she checked out the time on the grandfather clock in the hallway.
“Bottle?” she asked her daughter. “A bottle before nap?”
“Baba,” Soul agreed. Then she cast a glance over Jewel’s shoulder as her mother began walking toward the kitchen. “Baba!”
At first, Beck didn’t move, but then he slowly followed, anger radiating from him.
Striving for calm, Jewel warmed the bottle of milk. Okay, so she’d surprised him. Stunned him. Was there a better way to have brought up the subject?
“You shouldn’t throw shit like that out at a person,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.
“You shouldn’t swear in front of a baby,” she countered and walked her daughter and the bottle into the small family room. Taking a seat on the couch, she arranged Soul in the crook of her arm and brought the nipple to her rosebud mouth.
The baby latched on eagerly, her own hands cupping the plastic container even as her lashes started the slow drop to her plump cheeks.
Beck stood several feet away, his arms crossed over his chest, his stare flat. “You going to explain that wild accusation now?”
“It’s not an accusation,” Jewel said, her gaze lowered as she brushed Soul’s dark hair off her forehead. This was not going well, obviously. “More like a revelation.”
He let that sit a moment, then said, “How badly do you need money?”
Her chin jerked up. “What? I don’t.”
“Oh, come on,” he scoffed. “You’re a smart woman, I’ll give you that. Run into a man who has lost a chunk of time, and you quickly thought how to turn that to your advantage.”
Dumbfounded, she narrowed her eyes. “What advantage is that?”
He rubbed his thumb and fingers together. “Access to some cold, hard cash. A guy like me, I’ve got plenty, and it makes sense that you’d hope I might part with a share of it before I got around to asking for something simple, say, like proof.”
“I…I…” Indignation robbed her of breath and words. She tried telling herself it was natural that he’d jump to this conclusion. But damn, it hurt that he impugned her honesty so easily. When they’d been together, she’d been nothing but honest. She’d allowed him every intimacy, had let him take exhaustive and detailed explorations of her body and her sexual responses. Not once had she let her natural reserve stand in his way.
Not when she’d known they had a limited time together. Instead, she’d decided to hold nothing back in order to experience every moment, every touch, every pleasure.
“But you didn’t take into consideration where I come from,” Beck was saying now. “Who I come from. It’s a cynical place, that compound. And my father might be an indecent degenerate, but he did make the effort to warn his sons not to be tricked by something as easy to come by as tits, ass, and a beautiful face.”
This hard-eyed, mean-voiced stranger wasn’t the Beck she’d known two years ago. Yes, he’d been controlled then. Self-possessed. But he’d never been cruel.
A new sting of tears burned her eyes. “I think you should go.”
“Giving up that easily?” he taunted.
Ignoring him, she rose from the couch. Soul was half-asleep and didn’t protest the loss of her bottle. Jewel took the baby to her room, changed her, then placed her down in her crib, drawing a soft blanket over the small, drowsy body. Then she wound up the music box, and the soft notes of a lullaby floated through the room.
Jewel caressed Soul’s soft hair as she drifted into sleep.
I promise I wil
l be a good mother.
The little clutch of doubt she always felt at the thought was disregarded.
I will be everything you deserve.
Beck hadn’t followed her into the nursery and Jewel supposed he’d left, taking himself and his nasty suspicions back to the compound. On a sigh, she stroked her daughter’s hair again. Don’t worry, baby. We can let him go. We don’t need anyone else.
She crept out of the nursery, shutting the door softly behind her. Then she turned and rocked back at the sight of the looming man in the hall. Her pulse rocketed. “You scared me.”
“Yeah?” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Then maybe we’re even.”
Jewel tilted her head, considering that. Was that why he’d gone on attack? Was he frightened at the thought of being a father?
“Beck—”
“The Hideaway. You said the other night that when we met at that bar—two strangers shooting the shit—you told me you said to me that you weren’t interested in this thing we have.” Two fingers indicated her, then him. “Were you lying then, or are you lying now?”
“Neither.” Grinding her back teeth, she brushed past him and marched down the hall to front door. “That’s exactly what happened.”
“So you got pregnant by us making goo-goo eyes at each other over a couple of drinks? We better call the FDA.”
His snide tone wasn’t improving her mood. “Ha ha. You’re so funny.”
“Answer the question. You said you weren’t interested, yes or no?”
She whirled to face him. “Yes,” she hissed.
While being with Beck had been her pre-teen fantasy, adult Jewel had known right away he would only cause trouble for her. Starting with the potent sexual vibe that sizzled between them—she’d known she couldn’t handle it.
It turned out she was right. He’d been in charge of that side of things, taking advantage of her weakness when it came to his scent, his skin, his kiss, the stroke of his hands and his cock. Strip. Suck. Show.
His every wish had been her command.
“Well…” Beck said now, his eyes narrowing. “You said you weren’t interested…”
“And you didn’t listen. You wouldn’t take no for an answer.” With a flourish, she yanked open the front door.
He shut it with the flat of his hand, his lips quirking in a small smirk. “Well, that sounds more like me.”
Jewel rolled her eyes.
“It’s the first thing that does,” Beck continued. “Because I don’t have unprotected sex.”
“We didn’t.” She tried not to think of the women he’d had after her as she crossed her arms over her chest. “We used condoms. They have a fail rate, you know.”
“You weren’t on the pill? Patch? Shot? Ring? Implant?”
Her face burned. Leave it to him to be able to catalog birth control methods without a moment’s thought. She shook her head. No way would she go into her few and far between lovers. Before him, she hadn’t been with anyone since her second-to-the-last year of art school.
“Embarrassed, baby?” His cool hand chucked her lifted chin. “It’s a cute blush, but I know me, and that means if you’re actually telling the truth we’ve been very…close.”
Strip. Suck. Show.
“You know, I think we should have this discussion another time,” she said, and opened the door again, hoping to usher him out. “I’m busy.”
Instead of moving, he studied her face. “It’s still not making sense to me. I’m not some dirt-bag who knocks up a woman and then leaves her flat. Why wouldn’t I have at least told my brothers to look out for you while I was gone?”
Jewel held her arms out at her sides. “Isn’t it obvious? Because you didn’t know. I didn’t know. Not when you left.”
“And then…”
“And then I had no way to get in touch with you, remember? You fell off the face of the earth.”
“My brothers—”
“You had mentioned you weren’t particularly close. I wasn’t about to tell strangers our—my—personal business.”
“I left,” he said, as if he was mulling that thought over. “I went to Africa.”
“Right.” Rub it in. Rub it in that I wasn’t enough to keep you. “We had a brief affair, and you were up front from the very beginning that you had the big expedition planned. That there wasn’t going to be an ‘us’ except for the short amount of time until you left.” Despite her knowing it was a mistake, she’d flung herself into the damn thing anyway, welcoming him into her bed—or wherever else he wanted to have her.
Under his hand, she’d flowered. Her sexuality set free by his control.
His gaze narrowed again. “What’s that look on your face mean?”
The memory of his brand of exquisite, excruciating sex must be stamped on it. Trying to blank her expression, she tossed her hair over her shoulders. “Maybe someday you’ll remember.”
His eyebrows rose. “I don’t usually like girls with smart mouths.”
Girls with smart mouths get them filled.
Girls with smart mouths have to wait to come.
Instead of melting to the floor at his feet, she stiffened her knees. “You’re welcome to leave any time. The sooner the better, as a matter of fact.”
Ignoring that, he rubbed at his temples. “Christ. I just can’t fucking remember.”
That he’d forgotten her, though it wasn’t his fault, still smarted. Which it shouldn’t. Because the day she’d dropped him off at the airport she’d assumed he’d forget about her by the time the flight attendant served his first drink.
She’d cried all the way on her return trip home. During the vicious traffic on the 405.
Only one more time had she cried over Beck Hopkins—on the day their daughter was born.
He was still rubbing his head. “I’ve got to figure this out.”
“If you truly want to know—”
“Of course.” He glared at her, clearly annoyed. “For God’s sake.”
“We’ll get that proof you wanted. A paternity test. No problem.”
“That takes time, right? What about now? Can’t you tell me something that might jog my memory or…”
Suddenly, she thought of her phone. Of the photos of the two of them stored on it that she’d been promising herself to delete for months. Beck, who hadn’t carried a cell phone of his own at the time, had been fascinated by what he could capture on hers. Intimate images.
Strip. Suck. Show.
Squirm.
“Jewel?”
Jerked out of her reverie, she slanted him a glance. Damn. Looking at him made her want him, and wanting him only made her angry at this gorgeous wandering man who’d walked away from her without a backward glance.
“Is there something you can say now that proves we were together?”
“Sure,” she said, in a sweet tone when all she wanted to do was skewer him. “You have a very distinct identifying feature.”
His brows came together. “I do?”
“Yes.” She pushed him out the door, shut it, turned the lock, then yelled through the wood panel. “It’s a teeny tiny dick!”
Beck drove once again to Pacific Palisades. His brother Walsh would be at work and Reed was likely holed up in his home office, writing, but he knew Ren was taking some time off while he and Cilla settled into their new house.
An available sounding board was a good sounding board.
But it was more than that. He liked Ren, and still felt echoes of that old bond with him, though Beck had been the one to pull away all those years ago. You can never speak of this. You can never speak to each other about this.
Fear of the consequences if word spread about that night had forced him to separate himself from Ren and the other kids. The accident had become his personal and private guilt, never to be brought into the light. Or into other company.
Over time, it had become a habit, keeping himself aloof from others, Beck decided. He’d had acquaintances and coll
eagues, buddies and lovers, but never any close friends.
Maybe it might be nice if that was different.
But it was probably too late.
Ren answered the door, his expression one of mild surprise. “Hey.”
“Am I interrupting anything?”
The other man shook his head. “Towel racks. I’m installing towel racks. Can you believe it?”
Beck grinned. “My God, she’s tamed the beast. Is our Cilla around?”
“My Cilla,” Ren countered in a growl. Then his expression lightened. “She’s out buying towels, of course. Come on in.”
Glancing around as he entered the spacious living area, Beck noticed the homey touches that had been added in the couple of days since his last visit. Vases filled with fresh flowers. Paintings on the walls. A photo propped on a credenza—
“Whoa.” He stopped short to study the image. “It’s us.”
“Circa about fifteen years ago. Have you seen the life-size version in Gwen’s storeroom?”
“No. I haven’t been in there.” This was of more manageable dimensions, and showed the groupie, wearing a long dress, surrounded by the nine Lemon kids. “I must have been around eighteen then.”
The image captured a sunny day on the grass near the compound’s tennis court. Brody and Bing were wrestling in the shot, the little girls were leaning on Gwen, Walsh and Reed making faces on either side of the gathered group. Payne stood in all his beach-boy splendor, his good looks only marred by what had to be motor grease on his face. Beck was staring into the distance like his mind was a thousand miles away. Ren posed, cool in his usual leather jacket and with a cigarette dangling from the corner of his mouth.
“You look like a sulking juvenile delinquent.”
“Shoe fits,” the other man said now, shrugging. “I was pretty pissed that day because you’d just told me you were leaving the compound.”
“I don’t know why you’d be mad, when that finally gave you a slim shot at some of the naked tits.”
Ren snorted. “Fuck you. I always got my share and more. But don’t let Cilla hear you talk like that and, by the way, I’ll deny ever having this conversation if you bring it up.”
“It was a dirty world we grew up in,” Beck said.
Love Me Two Times (Rock Royalty Book 8) Page 7
