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His eyes went wide, and the glass of whiskey that was in his hand slipped and fell to the floor.
Turning to face me, he shook his head. “Beck?”
A chill ran over my entire body, and I looked over to Stella and Ty, then to Dirk. His only response was a slight nod in his head.
I went to say something, but stopped when Brock started walking toward me. “How? How is this…wait…you…how?” Brock looked at his parents, then back to me.
“Brock, this is Beck’s son. Beck Dahlstrom,” Ty Senior said.
Brock shook his head, then stepped back to a chair on shaky legs and sat down. I wasn’t sure what to do or say, so I just stood there.
“If you would’ve stopped talking for ten seconds, I could have given you a warning about Beck,” Dirk stated, his arms folded across his chest.
Brock gaped at him. “Don’t you think you should have interrupted me and said, oh, I don’t know, ‘Hey, by the way, your brother has a kid and he’s here’?”
“I mean, that would have been rather harsh.”
Brock’s mouth fell open wider. “Harsh? Dude! For a hot second, I thought my baby brother was standing there.” He looked back at me. “You are the spitting image of my brother…who’s your father?” He shook his head. “Beck had a son? How? Why are we just now meeting you? Where have you been?”
Feeling panicked, I forced myself not to run from the room. Avery must have sensed what I was feeling, because she walked up next to me and simply stood by my side. The feel of her so close instantly helped to calm me down. Fucking hell, I was becoming emotionally dependent on her, and that wasn’t good.
Stella walked to the middle of the room. “Okay. Let’s take a breath, Brock.”
“But—”
She held up her hand. “I think it’s time we called Junior and Tanner and have them come over.”
Brock stood. “Wait a minute, are you going to make me wait for them to get here before you tell me anything?”
I nearly laughed. For a second, I thought he was going to stomp his foot.
Dirk did laugh. “My God, you sound like a child.”
Brock spun and pointed at him. “You shut up. You knew Beck had a son and you never told me.”
“What?” Dirk responded. “You really think I would keep that from you?”
Stella tried to interject as Ty walked over to the bar with a shake of his head and poured a drink. His gaze met mine, and he pointed to his glass. All I could do was nod. He poured another drink and walked over to me. I took it gratefully and downed it in one gulp.
“Yep, you’re a Shaw,” he mumbled, as Avery walked to the middle of the room and let out an ear-splitting whistle. The entire room fell silent.
About that time, Bradly walked in and looked around the room, Mackenzie right behind him.
Looking around at everyone not speaking, Bradly asked, “What’s going on?”
“That’s enough! Dad, Uncle Brock—you’re making Beck take shots with Grandpa!”
“Hey, you make that sound like a bad thing,” Ty groused.
That time, I did laugh. Avery tossed me a look that quickly had me shutting my mouth.
Ty took the glass and whispered, “I’ll get us another.”
Avery continued as Ty made his way back to the bar.
“We all need to just take a couple of breaths. Now, Grams, I think you and Grandpa need to call Uncle Ty and Tanner, and tell them over the phone before they get here. I think we’ve done enough surprising of everyone.”
“Oh sure, now you make that rule,” Brock said with an eye roll.
Avery ignored him and went on. “I also think it’s easier for Beck if he only has to tell his story once more. He’s already been through enough.”
Stella nodded. “I agree.” Turning to me, she said, “Sweetheart, head on into the kitchen with Avery. I’ve got fresh fruit cut up in the fridge, along with some fruit dip.”
Brock sucked in a breath. “Fruit dip?”
Stella pointed to him. “No. It’s for Beck.”
“What?” Brock argued. “How is that fair? He’s already getting preferential treatment?”
I looked at Avery, who simply shrugged. Bradly walked up next to me and whispered, “I tried to warn you. They’re a different breed, these Shaws.”
Mackenzie added, “Just wait until family game night.”
Chapter Nine
BECK
Stella and Ty kicked everyone out of his office so that they could call their other sons. The rest of us headed to the large family room, where Brock suggested a friendly game of Pictionary, which everyone in the room voted against, including me. I sucked at drawing.
He came and sat down next to me, slapping me somewhat gently on my back. “I can’t even begin to tell you how much you look like your father. It’s strange to catch a glimpse of you when I look around the room.”
