His Son. Her Secret.

Chapter 8

“Why do supermarkets have to be so bright?” Beth grumbled under her breath.

Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, harsh and unforgiving, washing everything in a pale glow that made Beth feel like she was standing on display like a fish in a bowl. It made her skin crawl, and she was eager to get out of there as soon as possible.

That wasn’t her usual feeling when out in public, especially at the mall. No. Beth, like most people, didn't mind stretching her legs within the aisles of the supermarket as long as they walked away with something nice or tasty for themselves, but perhaps that was the problem. She wasn’t shopping for herself.

Muscles stiff, she pushed her cart down the aisle. It squeaked, and Beth gritted her teeth. She was almost done, she reminded herself. The damn cart was already full. Who knew a child needed so much? But maybe she had overdone it just a little bit. Pausing, she frowned at her load.

Two packs of diapers were stacked awkwardly on one side. A tin of formula wedged between packs of wipes. There were a number of jars of purée because she hadn’t known what the baby liked, so she’d selected apple, carrot, banana, and something green she wasn’t entirely convinced any human should eat, but the label said it was healthy and tasted yummy. On top of it all sat a small pile of baby clothes she’d grabbed in a rush, soft cotton in bright colors that looked nothing like anything she owned; she was more of a gray and dark blue kind of girl.

Huffing, Beth moved on. Clearly, she hadn’t overdone anything. The idea stuck around until she stopped in front of a shelf lined with boxes of baby porridge. There were too many options. How the hell was she supposed to know what the kid ate? What if he were allergic to something? Oh God.

Dread pooled in her gut as she read through her options. Wheat. Rice. Fortified. Organic. With vitamins. Without additives. Some with smiling cartoon babies on the front like they knew something she didn’t. Her eyes moved from one box to another, her leg bouncing.

Cursing, she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “How is this even a choice?” she muttered under her breath. “Shouldn’t there be like just baby porridge? It’s all just mushy goo for heaven’s sake. Andddd… I am talking to a bunch of boxes.” Beth snapped her mouth shut. Quickly, she scanned the aisle, making sure someone hadn't noticed her mini breakdown over baby food.

Then her gaze dropped to the cart again. To be honest, the problem wasn’t the unlimited choices. The problem was money. Every item sitting there was taking money out of her pocket. So she couldn’t afford to pick the wrong item or select a variety as she’d done with the jars of purée. Goddamnit! She was already next to broke. At this rate, she wouldn’t have enough left to take care of her own bills.

And whose fault was that? Her brain quickly reminded her. The eight million payout was gone because she decided to play the hero. Right now, there are no jobs lined up, illegal or otherwise. Beth wasn’t picky. When she wasn’t working at the cafe, she walked dogs, washed dishes at a restaurant, and delivered fast food. Anything to get a little extra cash in her pocket. But she had no jobs coming up for the foreseeable future. And she was standing in a supermarket about to spend money she didn’t exactly have on a child that wasn’t hers, but a child she couldn’t just not take care of.

Beth dragged a hand over her face. “Just pick one,” she whispered to herself. Besides, she had another problem on her hands; she was running out of time.

Belle had said one hour. And knowing Belle, that probably meant forty-five minutes before she started threatening to feed the kid energy drinks out of frustration. Beth still couldn’t believe her friends were throwing all this on her.

“Fine.” Beth reached out and grabbed the nearest box without even reading it, tossing it into the cart like the decision offended her. “Good enough.” If the kid didn’t like it, she would eat it. It wasn’t like she could afford to throw it away.

Shuddering at the idea of eating baby food, she turned sharply, more ready to head for the checkout, and froze like a deer caught in headlights.

Shit! She must have pissed off some deity, or she just had s**t luck, Beth thought as she wished the ground beneath her feet would somehow open and just swallow her whole. Of all the people. Of all the times. Why now?

Philip stood at the end of the aisle, like he had been waiting for her. Beth’s gaze roamed over him, taking in the usual tailored shirt and expensive watch the man wore to complement his arrogance.

Funny how she’d once thought of him as distinguished but now…

For his part, the man radiated waves of irritation etched into his face. Great. Beth’s grip tightened on the cart handle. Nope. She wasn’t doing this. Especially not in a public supermarket.

Without saying a word, she pushed her cart, eyes forward, already picking up speed. Of course, it would have been too much to hope he’d just let her go.

“Beth.”

She ignored him.

“Beth, wait.”

Her jaw clenched. She grabbed the cart harder and moved faster. Then a hand shot out and caught the side of it. The cart jerked to a stop, the clank of puree jars as they bumped against each other ratcheting up her anger.

Beth exhaled sharply, nostrils flared. She turned her head, her expression flat. “Let. Go.”

Philip didn’t. Instead, he stepped closer, right into her personal space, like this was some private moment they were sharing. His cologne immediately invaded her nose, reminding her she’d never truly liked his potent scent of wood and earth.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls,” he said, his voice deep and full of disapproval.

Beth arched a brow. “Wow. And here I thought I’d been subtle.”

His jaw tightened. “I’m serious.”

“So am I,” she shot back without missing a beat, jaw clenched. “Look, Philip, you’re old enough to understand what that means. I don’t have to spell it out for you.” He had almost twenty years on her, for God’s sake. And that was something else she didn’t want to think about. Why had she gone for a man almost as old as her father? Yeah. She wasn’t touching that one with a ten-foot pole.

Something flickered in his eyes, annoyance, maybe even a hint of guilt, but it didn’t last long. “I’ve been trying to talk to you,” he said. “To explain.”

Beth scoffed. “Explain what? That you forgot to mention you had a wife? Or that you thought it just wasn’t important?”

“It’s not like that.”

“It’s exactly like that,” she gritted out, her jaw so tight her molars ached.

Right then, a couple rounded the corner of the aisle, pushing a trolley. For a moment, everyone froze, tension literally vibrating the air. Then the couple decided it wasn’t their business and hurried away, leaving Beth and Philip alone again. Unfortunately.

Philip didn’t waste a second. He leaned in a fraction. Any closer and there wouldn't be room for Jesus, but he didn’t seem to care. “I made a mistake.”

Beth blinked at him. A mistake. Right. It was more than a mistake, but she wasn’t about to spend another breath explaining that to him. “Whatever helps you sleep at night,” she clipped.

The vein at his temple twitched. “I can fix this.”

Beth rolled her eyes. Why couldn’t the man just read the room? “No, you can’t. So just leave me alone.”

But he wasn't listening. If anything, determination pasted itself on every line of his face. “I can make it up to you.”

Beth shook her head, already done. “I’m not interested.” She tugged the cart. He didn’t let go. Her patience, what little of it she had left, snapped a little. “Let go of the cart, Philip.”

He didn’t. Instead, his grip tightened. “You’re being childish about this.”

That did it. Beth stared at him for a second, incredulous. Anger boiled in her veins. “Childish?” she repeated slowly. “You lied to me. For months. And I’m childish?”

“It has nothing to do with us,” he said quickly. “My marriage is separate from what we have.”

Beth actually laughed then. Not because it was funny, but because it was so ridiculous, she didn’t know what else to do. Was this how all men thought?

“Separate?” she echoed. “You’re married, Philip. That’s not a side hobby. It’s holy matrimony and legally binding.”

“It doesn’t change how I feel about you,” the stubborn goat insisted.

“Oh, wow,” she said dryly. “That makes it so much better.”

Philip let out a heavy sigh like she was the difficult one. “You’re overreacting.”

“I’m underreacting,” she shot back. “Now let go of the damn cart before I scream and complete this nightmare with public humiliation.” Not that Beth wasn’t already humiliated, even though no one knew about this cluster f**k, not even her friends.

Seconds ticked by. Her threat hung in the air like heavy smoke. Neither of them moved. Then Philip’s gaze dropped to the cart. She saw the moment his eyes took in the items. His expression shifted. Brows pulled together, mouth tightening.

“A-Ar… Are you pregnant?”

Beth’s stomach dropped. What? Oh, s**t. The baby stuff. Her mind blanked completely. Say something. Anything. Philip couldn’t start asking about a child when she was keeping a stolen baby.

But before she could even open her mouth, his face changed again. It morphed from shock to anger.

“Oh,” he said, stepping back slightly like he suddenly didn’t want to be anywhere near her. “No. No, Beth, that’s…I can’t have a baby with you.”

Her heart stopped. Just stopped. Beth blinked at him. Once. Twice. Her brain struggled to catch up. White noise filled her ears.

“I can’t,” he went on, voice lower now, urgent. “This… This complicates everything. You need to… Deal with it.”

For a long beat, Beth just continued to stare at him. At this man, she had once thought was… What? Charming? Interesting? Worth her time? Respect? God. What had she been thinking?

Something cold settled in her chest. It didn’t matter that there was no baby to deal with. She felt dirty. Used. Rejected. And it was all because of the cheating, lying bastard in front of her. Beth tightened her grip on the cart and yanked.

This time, he let go. Good. Beth wasn’t sure she wouldn’t have cracked his skull with one of the jars if he continued to block her escape. She didn’t say anything. Didn’t trust herself to. She just turned and walked away as fast as her legs could carry her, her heart, which had started beating again, threatening to beat right out of her chest.

“Beth!”

She didn’t look back.