Hot and Bothered (Hot in the Kitchen) (31 page)

It couldn’t be.

Fleeing was a viable option. She had done it once and while her brain acknowledged she wouldn’t get far, her heart was already in the Minivan. But Lili had seen her and it was too late.

She stared, unblinking, at the man who had broken her. Two years and he looked no different except for a slight hardness around the mouth. Tall with a leonine mane, he wore the casual air of arseholes everywhere.

He laughed at something Jack said, but it sounded false. A brittle, rusty sound.

“Hey, Jules, let me take that.” Lili grabbed the bag that had slipped from Jules’s jellied grip.

Simon’s cold blue eyes scanned Jules briefly before shifting to Evan, who was playing squirmy monkey in her flagging arms. The gaze turned hungry, but there was also the hint of performance in it—the man more sinned against than sinning. He dragged his eyes away slowly and sharpened them on her.

“Hullo, Jules. Long time.”

“I’d forgotten you two had met,” Jack said, his tone curious.

“Why are you here?” she asked Simon, ignoring Jack, whose eyes darkened in awareness.

“You know why.”

Moments passed as the emotional landscape was rearranged.

“Jules?” Jack’s voice sounded muffled and distant while Evan’s cries grew louder, echoing Mummy’s distress. Had she fallen over? She felt like she should be on the ground. Just as that thought formed and her knees weakened to make it a reality, a strong arm circled her waist.

“I’ve got you, honey,” he whispered in her ear.

Thank Tad.

She turned into him, drawing strength from the big hand curled possessively around her hip. Evan felt unbearably heavily but luckily, Tad scooped her precious out of her arms with a, “Hey, buddy.” Her son—her beautiful, perfect son—stopped his needy wail and blinked at Tad, who drew a bright giggle from him with a well-placed tickle.

She turned to Simon and girded her loins for battle.

Nobody moved until Simon stepped forward and Jules instinctively filled the gap, her claws sharpening under her skin. She could deny it, pretend he wasn’t the father, but one look at Jack told her it was too late. Her brother’s jaw had tensed to the point that she suspected he might be losing teeth in that grim-set mouth of his.

“Jules,” Jack said. Not a question now. Not even a plea for confirmation, just an acknowledgment that she had been found out.

For once in his life, Simon didn’t look all-knowing or smug. Evan had that effect on people. His rambunctious sunniness turned everyone into a melty goo of obeisance and adoration.

“He’s healthy?” he asked, no longer with the sharpness of before.

“He’s healthy,” she confirmed, parsing the words out like precious commodities. She knew what he was asking. Was he a dummy like her or had he inherited his father’s smarts? It was much too early to know for sure if her son was dyslexic and it wouldn’t matter if he was. He was perfect. Her heart thundered, her cheeks burned.

Simon turned to Jack. “I know I should have said something when I called but I didn’t want to risk her doing another runner. She never told me she was pregnant.”

“Because you had a wife!” Jules exploded in fury. “A wife you kept mum about the whole time we were together.”

Good thing Lili had moved in close to Jack because her hand on his arm was the only thing stopping her brother from doing some major violence to Simon. Evan made a sound of clear discontent in the wake of Mummy’s raised voice. She turned to take him from Tad’s arms, but he held on.

“How about Jack takes Evan inside with everyone else while we sit down and talk about this?” Tad’s expression was hard and she realized in that moment, her friend saw her differently and everything had changed.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Jack bit out.

“Evan doesn’t need the negative energy and Jules shouldn’t be left alone with…” Tad jerked his chin over Evan’s head at Simon.

Her two favorite men in the world were squaring off over the right to champion her. Sweet, but so not the time, boys.

“Tad, could you take Evan into the house and give him some crackers?” She fished in her bag for a baggie of snacks, thankful for the moment to bury her hand and allay the tremble. “Jack, I’d like to speak with Simon. Alone.”

“Not happening.” The muscle tic that was one of his anger tells jumped like the clappers in his jaw.

“Jack,” she pleaded.

Lili rubbed her husband’s arm and he straightened. “Better make the most of it, St. James, because it’s going to be your last fucking conversation.”

“Jack, please. Not now.”

Tad leaned in and the scent of him almost undid her. “You going to be okay? I could stay.”

She gave a slight nod and steeled her spine to a titanium rod. She needed to ride this wave solo. With one last blade of a look, Jack walked into the house followed by Tad with Evan, leaving her alone with her ex, who wasn’t really her ex. Looking back, she knew she had never been his girlfriend, just a shameful booty call. Maybe she wasn’t the kind of girl who inspired devotion.

He gestured to a seat at the large picnic table, already laden with the brunch fixings of juice and champagne for Mimosas. She hid her grim smile at how easily he slotted into the role of host. Your master of ceremonies for the most awkward chat of the century—Simon St. James, ladies and gentleman!

She took a seat and smoothed her clammy hands on her thighs. The silence circled like a vulture above them.

The last time she’d seen him had been the day she went to tell him about Evan. Well, Evan was no bigger than a fingernail at that point—he wasn’t her Evan just yet—but he was inside her, sucking up nutrients and making her ill and basically ensuring he was the Demon before he had even arrived. She had kept her pregnancy to herself for more than two weeks, mainly because Simon’s attitude to her had changed of late. He had been calling her less, making excuses not to see her, easing her out of his life. She recognized that now. When he had ignored her messages for two days straight, she had bitten the bullet and gone to see him.

Walking through his restaurant, one of those warehouse bistros in Islington, with her hand over her still-flat belly, excitement had trumped her fear. Sure it was too soon and Simon hadn’t promised anything, but he would make it better. Soothe and hold her and cook her something that wouldn’t make her want to barf every ten minutes. He would be the guy to save her.

The woman she encountered in his office was stunning, the kind of beauty that poets write about. Alabaster skin, raven hair, confidence borne of breeding. Before Jules could utter a word, Simon was jumping forward, his hand on her elbow to introduce his wife, Magda.

His very pregnant wife.

Jules is Jack’s sister, Magda,
he had said.
She’s looking for a job.

In ten words, he diminished her to nothing but an unfortunate job-seeker who needed to rely on her brother for employment.

Next thing, he steered her out of the office, explaining as he went. The strain of his hours at the restaurant and her job flying transatlantic twice a week had been unbearable. They had been on a break so he was completely blameless in his actions with Jules, but it was a delicate situation, don’t you see? The slightest hint of impropriety—
impropriety!
—would ruin everything, especially as Magda’s first pregnancy two years ago had been so difficult.

He already had a child and now another one on the way with his beautiful, aristocratic wife.

And Jules loved him enough to give him every opportunity to make his marriage work and hated herself for being so stupid as to think he understood her. He hoped they could be friends—not just yet, but later when things were on a more solid footing with Magda—and she had smiled that distant smile she turned on with previous lovers. The man who had known her so well didn’t know the difference.

Now he was here at her brother’s home, rocking her world all over again.

“How did you find out?”

“A few weeks ago, the
Times
ran an interview with Jack about how he’s adjusted to life after giving up the fame game.” There was a tinge of jealousy in his tone, so nothing new there. “He talked about his family. You, his wife, his nephew. I went to see your old flatmate and she confirmed you were pregnant when you left London a couple of years ago. I Googled you and found a picture of you with the kid at a wedding a few months ago. The resemblance… well, there was no doubt.”

“You should have called to say you were coming.”

He looked at her like she was mad. “I called to give you a chance to come clean, to do the right thing, Jules, but no. And I’ve been leaving messages for the last two weeks.” He moderated his voice but it didn’t moderate the fury etched on his features. “You were always such a brat. Whining because Jack wouldn’t visit more often, because you’d had it so rough. Little girl lost with her rich and famous brother, working that crappy job in that dive bar, trying to prove a point. You were so bloody stubborn, so it doesn’t surprise me that you’d use this. What did you do? Come crying to Jack when it didn’t work out between us?”

His words flattened her. “I came to tell you, you fucking prick, and you were with your wife. Should I have announced it in the middle of your cozy little reunion? Should I have told Magda that the child she was carrying would have a little brother or sister soon?”

Conveniently, he ignored that. “You had no right to keep this from me, Jules. That’s my flesh and blood in there.” His gaze bored through the back door’s wood, seeking out his son.
His son.
The words sickened her. “If you had acted like an adult instead of a spoiled brat, we could have come up with some suitable arrangement.”

“I don’t need your money. Evan doesn’t need a thing from you.”

“A boy needs his father. And I plan to be in his life.”

The space around her heart contracted. Her entire body took that as its cue, pulling her inside herself, making her feel small and insignificant.

Desperately, she clawed for the higher moral ground here. “What about Magda? Your other child?”

“We’re divorced.” For the first time since he had arrived, he looked uncomfortable. She cheered a mental home run that collided with pettiness in her chest. “She has custody of all three kids.”

Three children.
The blessings went on and on. “You don’t see your regular family, so you want a piece of mine.”

“I want a piece of mine, Jules.” He said it with finality, chopping through the air. “We can talk about this till the cows come home but we both know there’s only one end here. You kept this a secret from me, and that kind of behavior doesn’t play well in front of a judge. Fathers’ rights are all the rage now. Your brother can throw his money and weight around all he likes but he can’t deny me access to my son.”

He stood quickly, rocking the table so orange juice splashed over the lip of a jug. “Time to grow up, little girl, and come out from behind Jack’s apron. I’ll be in town until Friday.”

Chapter Seventeen

It is all one whether you die of sickness or love.
—Italian proverb “So what’s the plan?” Shane asked, unease in his voice. “There is a plan, right?”

Everyone had crowded around the island in Jack and Lili’s kitchen as soon as Simon flounced out. Jack crossed his arms, uncrossed them, crossed them again. Jules recognized that look. He was primed to explode.

“We’re going to make sure he never lays a finger on Evan,” Jack said icily.

“Jules, is that what he wants?” Lili asked.

“Why else is he here?” Cara threw out. She sat in an armchair with Evan noodled in the crook of her arm. “I mean, he’s had all this time to make his presence known—”

“He didn’t know about Evan,” Jules said quietly, fire rushing to her cheeks. Not once had she regretted her decision to keep Evan from Simon but she could see how it might look. Jules, the home-wrecker. Jules, the liar. “I had my reasons.”

“You should have told me who it was, Jules,” Jack said so low the whole room felt its chill. “He’s married, with kids and responsibilities.”

“I didn’t know that when we were together,” she said defensively, and then more softly, “It was a bad time for me.”

Cara made a sound of disgust. “What a dick!”

Too late, she realized that Evan could hear that. She made a brief gesture to cover his ears, then waved her hand at the futility of trying to cocoon Evan from the swirl of negativity. The situation sucked. “He’s married and he took advantage of you.”

“He didn’t take advantage of me,” Jules said, thrilled at her sister’s support but needing to make clear the circumstances. “Sure, he deceived me about being married but I was just as responsible for what happened. Two of us made Evan.”

“Well, he’s not going anywhere near him,” Shane said, looking at Jack for confirmation. Her brother nodded curtly, his jaw so tight Jules imagined the softest touch might shatter it.

Tad hadn’t spoken a word or looked at her since he had come to her rescue moments before. From beneath heavy-lidded eyes, he watched not her or Evan, but Jack. Anger rolled off him in waves.

Jack plucked his phone from his jeans pocket and looked at Cara expectantly. “Cara, what’s the name of the lawyer who handled your annulment?”

“What are you doing?” Jules asked.