The Beaumont Children: His Son, Her Secret

Suddenly, he pulled away from her so fast that she stumbled forward. His hand went around her waist to catch her, but his attention was focused on something behind her.

The car.

“What’s that?” he demanded, taking a step toward the backseat of the car.

“What?” Again, her voice was wobbly. Everything about her was wobbly because this was the official moment of reckoning.

“That’s a baby seat.” He let go of her. “You have a baby seat in the back of your car.” This statement seemed to force him back a couple of steps. He cast a critical eye over Leona.

She wanted to cower but she refused. She was done cowering before any hard gaze, whether it was her father’s or her former lover’s. So she lifted her chin and straightened her back and refused to buckle.

“You—you’ve changed.”

“Yes.”

“You had a baby?”

She had to swallow twice to get her throat to work. “I did.”

Byron’s mouth dropped open. He tried to shut it, but it didn’t work. “Whose?”

Leona couldn’t help it. She wasn’t cowering, by God, but she couldn’t stand here and watch, either. She closed her eyes. “Yours.”

“Mine?”

She opened her eyes to see that Byron was pacing away from her. Then he spun back. “I have a baby? And you didn’t tell me?”

“I was—I was going to.”

“When?” The word was a knife that sliced through the air and embedded itself midchest, right where her heart was. “And what? You had to kiss me? This I have to hear, Leona. I have to know the rationale behind this.” He crossed his arms and glared at her.

No cowering. Not allowed. “I— You— You left me. I can’t lose him.”

It was hard to tell in the dim light from a faraway lamppost, but she swore all the color drained out of Byron’s face. “Him?”

“Percy. I named him Percy.” She bent over and retrieved her tablet from her bag. After a few taps, she had the most recent picture of Percy up on the screen. The little boy was sitting on her lap, trying to eat a board book. May had taken the photo just a couple of weeks ago. “Percy,” she said again, holding the tablet out to Byron.

He stared at the computer, then at her. “I left? I left you pregnant?”

She nodded.

“And you didn’t think it was a good idea to let me know you were pregnant? That you had my son?” His voice was getting louder.

“You left,” she pleaded. Now that he knew, she had to make him see reason. Why hadn’t she assumed he’d be this mad at her? For a ridiculous second, she wanted to beg for forgiveness, say whatever it took to calm him down—whatever it took so that he wouldn’t take her son from her.

But she wouldn’t beg. Not anymore. She’d fight the good fight. “You were gone by the time I got away from my father and I was afraid that your family would take Percy away—”

Byron froze midturn. “Wait—what?”

“I got away from my father. I took my little sister with me. May. She’s watching Percy now.”

Byron moved quickly, grabbing her by both arms. “Your sister? Is watching my son?”

“Our son, yes—”

He half shoved her, half lifted her up and carried her to the car. “Take me to him. Right now.”

“All right,” she said, retreating to grab her bag and fishing her keys out of the pocket.

They drove in painful silence. Her apartment was out in Aurora, which meant a solid thirty minutes of feeling Byron’s rage from the passenger seat.

She was miserable. Just when she had a moment of hope, thinking maybe there was still something between them, something good—and it hadn’t lasted. It would never last with Byron. It would always be like this—the two of them straddling the thin line between love and hate.

If only she wasn’t a Harper. If only he wasn’t a Beaumont. If only they’d been two nameless nobodies who could fall in love and live happily ever after in complete obscurity.

But no. It wasn’t to be. He hated her right now because she’d kept quiet.

They pulled into the apartment complex parking lot. “You live here?” Byron asked. She could hear the confusion in his voice.

“Yes. This was all we could afford.”

“And your parents? Your father?”

She got out of the car. “Please don’t mention my father around May. She’s...still nervous about him.”

“Why?”

“Just...don’t.” Because she didn’t want to go into why her parents were terrible people right after she’d finally told Byron about the baby. She grabbed her bag and locked the car. “This way.”

Byron followed her up the two flights of stairs to the third floor of the apartment complex. “Here we are,” she told him, unlocking the door.

“Oh, thank goodness you’re home,” May said from the couch, where Percy was crying. “I really think he’s got another ear infection and—oh!” She recoiled in horror at the sight of Byron.

“It’s all right,” Leona told her little sister. “I told him.”

May stood, cradling Percy in her arms. “He didn’t come to take Percy, did he?”

“No,” Byron said a little too loudly. “I just came to meet my son.”

May’s gaze darted between Leona and Byron like a rabbit trapped between a fox and a rock. And Byron was definitely the fox. “It’s okay?”

Byron stepped up next to her. “Hello, May. It’s nice to meet you. I’m Byron Beaumont.”

Percy looked at Leona and held out his chubby little arms. May couldn’t seem to do anything except stare in openmouthed horror at Byron.

“Let me have him,” Leona finally said. She laid her bag on the kitchen table and took Percy from her sister and whispered, “It’s going to be okay.”

May attempted a smile and failed. “I’ll just go. To my room.” She all but sprinted down the hall. Seconds later, her door clicked shut.