Whenshe arrived an hour later, Katie’s eyes went wide. “Are you feeling okay?”
“As amatter of fact, I feel like garbage, but thanks for asking.”
Paigeregretted her snarky words as soon as they rolled off her tongue, but Katieleft her alone. Beckett called, and Paige shook her head when Katie tried tohand her the phone. Later the same day, she got a lift when a woman phoned tosay her boss was interested in acquiring an Anderson Home, and could she emailover a clip of his existing place to give Paige an idea what he was lookingfor? Of course she could.
Theemail arrived and Paige clicked on the link, excited to lose herself in adesign for a potential client—one who’d heard of her! When the clip started,Paige studied it several seconds before she registered what was happening onthe dim screen. Aghast, she turned to Katie. “I think this woman sent me thewrong video. It looks like two people having sex.”
Paigeturned up the volume.
“Suresounds like people having sex.” Katie rounded Paige’s desk and peered over hershoulder. “Wow! She’s really going to town on him. Oh! Time to changepositions.”
“Whoa!Is this her boss? And her? How embarrassing if—”
Thewoman heaved out a groan and looked directly into the camera. “That’s it,that’s it, baby. Nobody makes me come like you, Beckett. Nobody. Ohhhh.”Paige’s blood froze as the woman yelped a series of yeses, punctuated by onerising, screaming “Oh, Beckett, my fucking God!” Paige stabbed at the pausebutton, but her hand shook so violently she couldn’t engage it before the man,his face unrecognizable at this angle, grunted and collapsed atop the woman’sback. Ears ringing, bile rushing up her throat, she slammed down her laptoplid. When she looked into Katie’s horrified face, she saw her own shockreflected in her red-rimmed glasses.
An hourafter the video hit her inbox, another one arrived from the same person.“There’s more where that came from.” Katie, an internet whiz, couldn’t identifythe sender through the email or the fake business address, and the call hadcome from a burner phone.
Yamila’ssultry voice replayed in Paige’s head. “My boss wants an Anderson Home … Youinterrupted … I need to get back to my impatient man.” I should haverecognized her voice!
AfterKatie left for the day, Paige pulled the video up once more, closing it downthe moment she recognized the back of Beckett’s head and his broad, bareshoulders—shoulders she’d run her hands over countless times, yet not enough.Her heart shattered, the shrapnel of millions of irreparable pieces flung farand wide.
.~ * * * ~.
The next days spilled into one another like a sputtering downspoutin a torrential rain, and Paige dodged Beckett’s calls and deleted his emailsand texts without reading them. He sent bouquets of cheerful Gerberadaisies—her favorite—with notes telling her how to reach him or that he’dfinally replaced his phone and her number was the first one he loaded in. Onecard even asked what he’d done wrong. Seriously? Ugh.
Inbetween the onslaught of flowers and messages, he overnighted a box filled withFlyers garb, announcing he’d been signed to a short-term contract. A youthjersey—just her size—with the number twenty stitched on it, a Flyers teddybear, and a women’s workout tank. She shoved the box in the deepest corner of acloset.
“So didyou see the highlight reel where Beckett flattened that Minnesota Wild player?”Gwenn asked her one evening.
“I’mstill wondering who he paid off to pass all their drug and whore tests.”
Bigsigh. “Talk to him, Paige. Hear him out. At least read his email.”
“Why?So he can charm his way back into my life?” And what if I’m stupid enough tofall for it? No. Not giving him that opening. “Even if Yamila was lying,she had to be with him that night to film them effing their brains out, not tomention getting her claws on his phone. Tell me how else that works, Gwenn.”
“Shestole his phone?”
“Ha!Again, she had to be with him, and it doesn’t explain away the disgustingvideo. God, I hate this. It’s making me physically sick to my stomach, likestomach flu that doesn’t go away. I wish it would just get it over with andmove on. Like Beckett did.”
“Sweetie,what are your flu symptoms?” Gwenn nudged.
“Nausea,fatigue.”
“Soreboobs?”
“What?They’re a little tender, but that’s normal. My period is a few days late.”
“Yousure it’s just late?” Gwenn’s voice was kind, cautious.
“Oh no!Don’t go there, Gwenn! There’s no way. We used condoms.”
“Thewhole time?”
“No,but there’s my IUD.”
“Buy apregnancy test, sweetie. You’ll know right away.”
Icyneedles shot through Paige, rippling chills up and down her spine. “Gwenn, itcan’t be,” she whispered.
.~ * * * ~.
An hour later, Paige sat on her cold bathroom floor, huggingher knees, staring at three plastic sticks through watery eyes. One stickdisplayed a plus sign and “Yes.” Another had a deep blue stripe. The final onesaid, “Pregnant.”
She wasthree-for-three. A perfect score. Except this was no game.
Herheart sank into a bottomless well. Despite her own warning system, with eyeswide open, she’d fallen in love with an irresistible flirt who’d run straightinto a vamp’s arms at the first opportunity; a manwhore who didn’t waste histime on women with children; a player who’d never committed to anyone, whoselongest relationship could be counted in weeks, not years. A man she shouldn’thave trusted, who’d broken her heart—just like the last one. She hadn’t learneda thing. And now she was bringing a child into the mess.
Paigeswiped at her tears and rocked back and forth. Irony was that in spite of herresolve to never be her mother, she’d followed the same path and becomeeverything that disgusted her: a woman who jumped from one man’s bed toanother’s, who was carrying a child whose father’s identity was a questionmark.
Beckettor Adrian?
CHAPTER 28
It Was Always You
“Great game, Miller. That was a sick pass you made.” Theforward with the game-winning goal began unlacing his skates in the lockerroom.
Beckettlooked up from stripping his blade and gave him a chin jerk. “You’re the onewho buried it and won us the game. That was a thing of beauty.”
“Hey,me and some of the guys are gonna
