Page 5 of Dragon's Midlife Secret Baby
Everyone jumped back slightly and stared at her.
“What?” Maeve asked. “What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She’d felt like a fool when she thought Beck had left her, and now she felt like a fool for trying so hard to see him in this stranger. “That’s what you used to do, that gesture you just did. When you were thinking about something.” She was babbling now, and Erin squeezed her hand a little tighter.
Beck considered his hand for a moment and then laid it in his lap. “I didn’t know. To answer your question, I still don’t really know muchabout any of it. You tell a convincing story, Chelsea, but I don’t actually remember any of it. You’d think I’d at least know about being a dragon. That sounds like a big part of who I am.”
Jace was scrolling on his phone. “If you hit your head or got injured in some way, it all might come rushing back to you once you heal. Having shifter blood means that’s going to happen a lot faster for you than it would a regular person, so we might not have to do much beyond wait.”
“Maybe.” Beck ran his finger along his jaw again. “I guess finding out that someone knows me has made me a little impatient, though. What else can you tell me?”
It was solely on her, and she felt so helpless. Beck was dealing with the trauma of losing himself, but she’d already been dealing with that trauma for a long time. She’d spent plenty of nights weeping silently in her bed and days reminding herself that she was strong enough to get through life without him. Like her mother had said, though, these could just be little things. “Your favorite color is red. Summer is your favorite season. You’re the most annoying person to take into an antique store because you know more about what they’re selling than they do.”
There was something else she could tell him about himself, but Chelsea couldn’t bring herself to do it. It wasn’t as though it would help bring anything back, even though it was—or at least should be—a vital part of his identity.
Maeve patted Beck’s knee again. “This is all a lot, and it’s rather stressful. We don’t have to rush anything, though. You can stay right here.”
“I don’t want to be any kind of burden,” he began.
“Nonsense,” Maeve insisted, but she arched a brow at Chelsea.
Beck looked at her with questions in his eyes as well.
If he only knew the questions he should be asking. “That’s fine,” Chelsea said after a moment, realizing she was out of time. “Listen, Beck, if you’re going to be staying here, there’s something else you should know.”
He set aside his empty plate and leaned forward a bit.
“You see…” What the hell had happened to her? Chelsea’s throat chakra had always been wide open. She’d never had a problem speaking the truth. She wasn’t argumentative or aggressive, but neither was it like her to beat around the bush. This had been such a shock, and she wasn’t handling it well. She bent her head forward and propped her forehead on her hand, trying to summon the courage she needed.
“If it’s something that’s too hard to say, then you don’t have to,” he said softly. “I know I said I’m impatient to find out more about myself, but maybe Jace is right and we don’t have to push through any of this.”
She pushed out a breath and looked up. “Not when it comes to what you like to eat or watch on TV, no, but this is much bigger than that, Beck.”
“All right.”
He was so damn patient. She should be happy, because it was another reminder that the real Beck was somewhere in there. Beck had a big personality. He could be impulsive, and he liked to stay busy. He was a dragon, but he’d always been so sweet and gentle with her. That knowledge should’ve made this so much easier to say, yet she’d never envisioned having to tell him like this. “Right after you left?—”
She was interrupted by the squeak of a door. Chelsea turned, instinctively knowing exactly which door had opened because it was her own. The doorway framed the darkness of the bedroom, making Chelsea realize just how much time hadgone by since she’d first turned around and looked into Beck’s eyes. And now, as a sleepy little boy came toddling out into the living room, she once again looked into those eyes. They were far younger, of course, but they still pierced straight into her heart when he looked at her.
“Mommy, who dat?”
3
Beck watchedas the entire room tensed. It was just a little boy who’d woken up from his nap. Why should that be such a problem? Immediately afterward, he realized thathewas the problem. Beck had wondered why Jace would’ve taken the risk of bringing him back to his family, witches or not. They still wouldn’t want to risk having a small child around a complete stranger.
No, wait. Beck wasn’t a stranger. He felt like one. He wasn’t even sure he belonged inside his own body, but Chelsea had known him. The others, even if they hadn’t met him, had at least known who he was. Beck was struggling to keep up with everything happening around him and even within him.
The toddler took a few more steps into the room.His brown eyes were calm and placid as he took in the other adults, though they zeroed in on him. His curly brown hair had been swirled around his head in his sleep. Moving past the couch where Chelsea and Erin were seated, he marched straight up to Beck. Staring at him for a moment, he turned around and looked at Chelsea. “Who dat?” he asked again.
Beck watched the child, and something within him reacted. It was that same sense he’d noticed when he’d spoken to Jace out by the docks, and it’d continued to speak to him here and there. It didn’t communicate with words, exactly. It was more of a feeling, a message he understood even if he didn’t know the language. This inner sense now showed him pure acceptance for this little child, a belonging. It was similar to the awareness he had for Chelsea, as though these people were connected to him.
Chelsea swallowed. “Corbin, this is Beck.”
“Beck,” the boy repeated as he patted Beck’s knee with his warm little hand. “Beck.”
“That’s right.” Beck leaned forward, overwhelmed with the urge to pick him up. As he drew closer, though, he understood what Chelsea had been trying to tell him only a moment before Corbin had emerged from the bedroom. He knew whyeveryone had reacted so strangely, and it was now clear exactly why he felt an immediate pull toward the boy. “Chelsea, is he?”
She nodded, still looking uncomfortable. “Yes, Beck. He’s your son.”
