Forbidden: A Stepbrother Secret Baby Romance by Vesper Vaughn Page A
Authors: Vesper Vaughn
Tags: new adult, bad boy, Stepbrother Romance, stepbrother secret baby pregnant fucking romance sexy steamy hot knocked up bad boy's baby billionaire tension tattoos muscled ripped strong hot
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smile on his face that makes me want to punch him and jump his bones at the same time. "Eggs benedict and dry toast please," Jax says to Richard. Newspaper pages crinkle as he lifts up the financial section.
I chew as quietly as I can and stare out the bay corner window that wraps around the dining nook. A man of about twenty is using a net to skim debris out of the swimming pool. My body is aching to get out into the sunshine for a quiet, baby-free day. I don't have a swimsuit, but I really just want to lay down at the pool.
I steal a glance at Jax, who is buried in the article he’s reading. I open my mouth to say something but my phone buzzes in my sweatpants pocket. I put down my fork, swallowing the bite of eggs quickly. I glance at my phone. It's Paul. I told him not to call me until he was standing on California tarmac. He never listens. "What?" I hear myself snap. It isn't like me to do this. I blame the food again for making me stand up for myself.
There is a loud noise in the background as Paul struggles to make his voice heard. I can't make out a word of what he is saying.
"Sorry, honey, I can't hear you!" I yell into the phone. I shove my finger in my ear absurdly as if the gentle sound of turning newsprint pages and the quiet simmer of poaching eggs on my end is the problem. I feel Jax's eyes on me as I stand up and walk to the other side of the kitchen. The noise on the phone dies down as Paul shuts a door.
"Hey, babe," Paul says. "How is...California?"
Alarms go off in my head. Paul has never, ever in our ten-year, on again, off again relationship called me 'babe.' "Um, fine," I reply. "My mother is being my mother, but she's taking Ryan to a luncheon for most of the day, so I'm just here finishing up breakfast."
"Alone?" he asks.
"Um, no, Jax is here. And Richard," I add. I glance behind me and see that Jax has been staring at my back. He doesn’t look away when I catch him doing it.
"Sorry you're trapped in the house with that asshole," Paul says to me. "And who the hell is Richard?"
"The cook," I reply. Paul doesn't respond for so long that I have to ask him if he is still there.
"Yeah, I'm here," he replies. "Um, listen Tessa, I have some bad news. I'm not going to be able to make it out to your parents' place."
At that moment I experience, simultaneously, two incredibly different emotions. One is anger and one is an inexplicable feeling of relief. Both are replaced at once by suspicion and intense confusion. "And why not?"
Paul pauses again. I suddenly realize the noise from earlier is loud music in the background of wherever he is. "Work," he replies simply. "They need some of us to stay over the holiday weekend and work."
I've always said that the best part of being a woman over the age of twenty is that I know when I'm being lied to. Normally I wouldn't confront Paul, but somehow having Jax eavesdropping is emboldening me. "Work, huh?"
I hear the music get louder; the squeak of a door comes over the phone. A woman's voice calls out. "Paul, come on! You're missing it!" Then she laughs. I hear the crinkling noise of soft fabric over the mouthpiece. He does a terrible job covering up the mouthpiece. "I'm on the phone with Tessa!" he hisses.
My heart is pounding and my vision is blurring. "PAUL!" I yell into the phone. "WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"
That gets his attention. "I'm - we're - out with work. It's a work lunch."
I look at the kitchen clock. "Work lunch? It's 10 AM your time. Who the fuck is that you were talking to?" Tears are stinging my eyes and I can feel the hot burn of Jax's gaze through my back. I hate causing a scene, but here I am doing just that in front of two near-strangers. One of whom I have imagined naked more times that I want to admit. One of whom I’ve seen naked, in real life.
"I - Tessa, listen, when you get back, we have some things we need to talk about -"
I interrupt him. "When I get back? When I get back? You mean when I come home with our son?" My body is
I chew as quietly as I can and stare out the bay corner window that wraps around the dining nook. A man of about twenty is using a net to skim debris out of the swimming pool. My body is aching to get out into the sunshine for a quiet, baby-free day. I don't have a swimsuit, but I really just want to lay down at the pool.
I steal a glance at Jax, who is buried in the article he’s reading. I open my mouth to say something but my phone buzzes in my sweatpants pocket. I put down my fork, swallowing the bite of eggs quickly. I glance at my phone. It's Paul. I told him not to call me until he was standing on California tarmac. He never listens. "What?" I hear myself snap. It isn't like me to do this. I blame the food again for making me stand up for myself.
There is a loud noise in the background as Paul struggles to make his voice heard. I can't make out a word of what he is saying.
"Sorry, honey, I can't hear you!" I yell into the phone. I shove my finger in my ear absurdly as if the gentle sound of turning newsprint pages and the quiet simmer of poaching eggs on my end is the problem. I feel Jax's eyes on me as I stand up and walk to the other side of the kitchen. The noise on the phone dies down as Paul shuts a door.
"Hey, babe," Paul says. "How is...California?"
Alarms go off in my head. Paul has never, ever in our ten-year, on again, off again relationship called me 'babe.' "Um, fine," I reply. "My mother is being my mother, but she's taking Ryan to a luncheon for most of the day, so I'm just here finishing up breakfast."
"Alone?" he asks.
"Um, no, Jax is here. And Richard," I add. I glance behind me and see that Jax has been staring at my back. He doesn’t look away when I catch him doing it.
"Sorry you're trapped in the house with that asshole," Paul says to me. "And who the hell is Richard?"
"The cook," I reply. Paul doesn't respond for so long that I have to ask him if he is still there.
"Yeah, I'm here," he replies. "Um, listen Tessa, I have some bad news. I'm not going to be able to make it out to your parents' place."
At that moment I experience, simultaneously, two incredibly different emotions. One is anger and one is an inexplicable feeling of relief. Both are replaced at once by suspicion and intense confusion. "And why not?"
Paul pauses again. I suddenly realize the noise from earlier is loud music in the background of wherever he is. "Work," he replies simply. "They need some of us to stay over the holiday weekend and work."
I've always said that the best part of being a woman over the age of twenty is that I know when I'm being lied to. Normally I wouldn't confront Paul, but somehow having Jax eavesdropping is emboldening me. "Work, huh?"
I hear the music get louder; the squeak of a door comes over the phone. A woman's voice calls out. "Paul, come on! You're missing it!" Then she laughs. I hear the crinkling noise of soft fabric over the mouthpiece. He does a terrible job covering up the mouthpiece. "I'm on the phone with Tessa!" he hisses.
My heart is pounding and my vision is blurring. "PAUL!" I yell into the phone. "WHERE THE HELL ARE YOU?"
That gets his attention. "I'm - we're - out with work. It's a work lunch."
I look at the kitchen clock. "Work lunch? It's 10 AM your time. Who the fuck is that you were talking to?" Tears are stinging my eyes and I can feel the hot burn of Jax's gaze through my back. I hate causing a scene, but here I am doing just that in front of two near-strangers. One of whom I have imagined naked more times that I want to admit. One of whom I’ve seen naked, in real life.
"I - Tessa, listen, when you get back, we have some things we need to talk about -"
I interrupt him. "When I get back? When I get back? You mean when I come home with our son?" My body is
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