Secret Baby: Billionaire Stepbrother

By: Candy Dance

Chapter One

“Well, Baby Bart, do you want to chance going to see your grandmother?” I muttered, looking at my six month old son with gray eyes exactly like his dad’s and mashed carrots painting his cheeks, chin, and lower lip. Bartie did not like his veggies. He cooed at me, waving his hands trying to get to the baby spoon as I expertly scraped carrot off him like a pro, then tried to get it into his mouth.

I did the train sound and he opened up with a grin, and I shoved. His eyes widened almost as if he was accusing me of the sneak attack, but then he started munching.

“See—” I tickled him under his chin. “It is good.”

Just as I said that half of it spurted out of his mouth and dribbled in globs down his chin. I laughed. Oh my gosh, he was the most precious thing. But the instant I thought that, I got sad.

His dad would never know his specialness.

I continued to feed Bart while thinking over my newest dilemma; whether to go home for a visit or not. Back home, no one knew that I’d been pregnant and had a baby. When I’d first found out I was pregnant, and things being what they were, I’d determined I would never see my family again. That I couldn’t, not with the baby ... so I wouldn’t.

I didn’t even mind giving them up. It was only my mom and stepdad, both of which I wasn’t super close too. Of course the one person in my family it tore my heart out never to be able to see again was my stepbrother Beck. But for my baby, I even tore myself away from him.

I looked out the window of my house on the gulf of Texas as I multi-tasked giving Bart his after lunch bottle of juice. I wasn’t going to get anymore veggie’s down him so I would resort to liquid fruit. Bart chewed the nipple on the bottle before he started sucking on it.

His eyes drooped a little ... God, I missed breastfeeding him. I had only managed to do it for six weeks, because I had to go back to work. I still expressed, but it wasn’t the same. Being the single breadwinner for my little family of two meant I had to work full time at my business which staged houses.

I was glad for the business and the fact that it had moved so well, when I’d had to leave my home town, to hide my pregnancy. But that was before my mom broke up with my stepdad, which now opened up a door for me to maybe step through. It’s not like I thought my mom was going to be a great grandmother ... because I could not picture her that way. She’d never been the kind of mom saying “You have to get married. You have to give me grandbabies.”

“But a kid deserves a grandmother,” I muttered, playing with my cell phone on top of the kitchen table in my kitchen nook overlooking the gulf.

Bart would have a great place to play there once he got older, and it’s the reason I’d picked the place. I’d managed to swing a down payment on it from some money my grandmother left me. Now she was someone in my family that would have loved Bart.

Maybe I was just lonely ... being a single mother was tough all alone, or maybe it was my guilt working. If Bart couldn’t have his father, then he deserved some other extended family.

For the thousandth time I looked at my baby wondering if anyone could guess who the father was. I didn’t think so unless they were side by side, or I’d never chance it.


It was a four day holiday weekend and I was driving like I was crawling back into my home town. Bartie was asleep in the backseat after I had exhausted my entire knowledge of upbeat kids' songs during the six hour drive. I think I was a little hoarse, but I proudly thought my son had actually started humming along during small bits of my car recital.

My eyes darted like someone was going to pounce on me and my slow moving car and proclaim my worse secret to the entire town. I unclenched my shoulders and shook my head, trying to loosen up. I was being paranoid. The biggest problem facing me was springing a grandbaby on my mom that she had no clue about.

But my mom was always so busy I would bet she’d spend only a second over it, if that. Still, I really looked over her house as I pulled up to it, checking to make certain it was her car in the driveway.

She’d told me three months ago that she and my stepdad Murray, had split up over his bad finances. She’d said it like that too; as if they had been single and living together, and it wasn’t their married finances.

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