by Beau Brown
“They want you to give up the baby?” Ross asked slowly.
“That’s right. That’s the condition for their continued help.”
“But why?” Giving up an illegitimate baby for adoption wasn’t unheard of—but pretty close. Occasionally a family tried it in hope of passing off a ruined omega as still virginal, but it was rare—not least because there was almost no chance in hell of successfully fooling anyone but a seriously “defective prospective”.
“For a lot of reasons which make sense to them, but not me. Mainly because she’s not tribe.”
“She’s not…” Ross didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t realized such a thing was even possible. “You’re carrying a baby that isn’t…”
“Correct. She’s just…regular folks.”
“She’s not tribe?”
“She’s not tribe.”
“Then her father wasn’t—isn’t—tribe either?”
“Correct. Again.”
“I see.” But Ross didn’t. Not at all. And he could see how shaken and upset Alex’s fathers must be. Putting aside the offspring of that unnatural union for a moment, this meant Alex had had sex, unprotected sex, with—presumably fallen in love with—a man who was not tribe.
That explained why he had not been claimed. That was all it explained though.
And the fact that a pregnancy had resulted. Wasn’t that biologically impossible? Ross had always thought so. Maybe Alex had thought so too. Even so.
Even so, Ross couldn’t think of anything to say. He’d thought he’d seen it all, but this was a new one on him. He liked to think he was a man of the world, fair minded and reasonably informed, but this shocked him. He did not want to believe he was judgmental, but was there a way to view this and not condemn Alex Orlov’s behavior?
The oven’s preheat buzzer went off. Ross barely registered it.
Watching him, maybe reading his expression, Alex said quietly, “Now you understand. Thanks again for letting me stay here tonight. Good night.”
He turned and disappeared down the hall.
Chapter Two
Alex sat up, thumped the pile of feather pillows—which immediately flattened out again—and turned painfully back onto his left side, which was supposed to be better for the baby. He hadn’t had a decent night’s sleep in nearly six months, and for the last few weeks he might just as well have been stretched out on a bed of nails. His back ached. His hips ached. His heart ached.
He could still smell Ross’s familiar woodsy masculine scent: honey, musk, cedar, leather and, heart-warmingly, vanilla. It still got to him. Still made him want to throw himself in Ross’s arms and be held close forever. That was almost funny, because no way in hell was that ever going to happen. Every time he closed his eyes he saw Ross McClintock’s face. The disapproving line of his steely jaw. The disappointment in his gray eyes.
Yes, maybe now Alex did have something to be ashamed of—although his predicament was not his little girl’s fault, and he would never, never let her feel that she had been unwanted or unwelcome—but he had been made to feel ashamed of his dreams and aspirations long before this unplanned and out-of-wedlock pregnancy.
Fair enough. His ambitions had always been small and personal: he wanted to marry and raise a family. He had eagerly looked forward to pregnancy, loved the idea of being pregnant. His fathers had been confused and then condemning. They had not raised him for that. Alex was too gifted to “throw it all away”. By “gifted,” they meant smart, able, handsome and personable. Alex had no particular gifts. No special talents or aptitudes. It didn’t matter. According to his parents, no son of theirs was going to spend his life barefoot and pregnant like some white trash omega high school dropout.
Listening to his father and his dad, you’d think the only omegas who willingly got pregnant lived in trailer parks and spent their days watching reality TV and eating pork rinds by the bagful.
Alex’s stomach growled. He sighed. Which, by the way, he now craved. Pork rinds, not the reality TV and trailer park lifestyle.
He groaned softly, and adjusted the pillow between his knees for the umpteenth time, trying to find a position that gave some relief. The baby was hiccupping. He absorbed that tiny sensation, smiling faintly.
There were plenty of things he regretted, but he refused to regret the fact of her existence. And anyone who couldn’t deal with that…to hell with them.
But it still hurt.
The things his parents had said. The look in Ross McClintock’s eyes. His eyes stung with sudden tears. He dabbed at them with the edge of the sheet. Goddamned hormones.
Mostly.
Alex had been raised to believe he could be anything he wanted to be. Anything. The choice was his.
And he had learned that lesson well. Believed it with all his heart. But wasn’t the point of having a choice being allowed to actually choose?
He did understand. His parents had devoted their lives to the fight to ensure omegas had the same rights and privileges and opportunities as everyone else. And there was still plenty of fighting left. He understood. He understood that it must be kind of a letdown, more than a little disappointing, that the product of two leaders in the omega civil rights movement, their own child would turn out to be a complete traditionalist, heck, even a throwback. They wanted college and an illustrious, high-powered career for him. He wanted…love, marriage, and babies. Lots of babies. For as long as he could remember. From the time he’d practically been a baby himself. Even as a little kid he’d stuffed pillows under his shirt and “played” pregnant. To both his parents’ dismay.
Oh, not complete dismay. They had mostly been tolerant, even a little amused, by his childhood fascination with babies and pregnancy, but by the time he’d hit his teens, they’d stopped seeing the humor in the situation. The discussion of pups and marriage was strongly discouraged. And eventually taboo. They’d been dead serious about planning out his future, and they’d demanded that Alex be dead serious too. And he’d tried to get with the program. He loved them. He didn’t want to disappoint them. So, he’d worked to find compromises. He had understood the importance of college, but he had not wanted to go into medicine or the law. He had respectfully declined to attend their old alma mater at the University of Texas in Austin—where his dad still guest lectured on a regular basis—and chose Southwestern University in not- too-distant—but hopefully distant enough—Georgetown. He had settled on earning his degree in early childhood education.
They weren’t happy with that either though.
His father had said, “You’re too smart to spend your life handing out boxes of crayons and folding blankets for naptime. You should at least aim to teach college.”
His dad had agreed. “Educational Administration. That’s the place for you. You could make a real difference there. Plus, excellent pay and a lot of opportunity for advancement.”
Alex did not say what he thought. That hopefully he would be spending his life handing crayons to, and folding blankets for, his own kids. He planned on getting a job after college, but he was not looking for a career. He still wanted to marry and raise a family. A big family for his big, strong, ruggedly handsome—and equally adoring—alpha.
He did not have any particular alpha in mind yet. That was part of why he was enthusiastic about the idea of college. He wanted to meet boys with more on their minds than girls and football and the next corn crop. Alex was looking for the right man, and he’d turned out to be harder to find than expected. Or Alex was a lot more choosy than his parents gave him credit for. He had met some cute boys at Southwestern, even dated several, but they all seemed kind of…young. In fact, the alphas he met seemed even more immature than the omegas.
Anyway, that was all in the past. No alpha would want him now. No alpha would take on a ruined omega. (And no one knew how ruined he really was.) Especially when that omega had a kid. Especially-especially when the kid wasn’t even tribe.
No, Alex’s romantic day dreams of a happy mar
riage and a big family were over, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still make a good life for himself and his little daughter. He had hoped his parents would back him in his decision to leave school and get a job—and they had, hurt and disappointed by his apparent promiscuity as they were, they had been there with the plans and proposals—until he had informed them he was going to keep the baby.
Reid.
Her name was Reid.
Once he had named her, well, no way in hell was he giving her away. Anyway, she was likely the only child he’d bear now, so no. He was not letting her go. Ever. He’d heard all the reasons—very good reasons—about why it would be better, better for both of them, if he gave her up to some nice non-tribe family, but no. His little girl was not going to grow up believing she had not been wanted. She was his daughter and, by God, he was keeping her.
And that had been one bridge too far for his parents. This was the line they could not, would not, cross. Not even for him. His decision to keep the baby had offended and appalled them on so many levels, there was no coming back from it. Tonight, they had ordered him to leave.
He had seen that they were as shocked to say the words as he was to hear them, but they had meant it. He was no longer welcome in their home. Not until he had done the right and responsible thing for himself and the child he carried. They told him it was time he grew up and faced facts, and that they could not in conscience continue to abet and aid him while he continued on this reckless and self-destructive path.
Numbly, Alex had heard them out, and then he had gone up to his room and gathered a few things. He didn’t even know what to bring. He had no idea where he was going.
When he walked downstairs, he could hear his dad crying and his father trying to comfort him, but they had not called out to him, not tried to stop him, not relented.
So that was that.
You couldn’t live your life for your parents.
Or anyone else.
Including former boyhood crushes.
He sighed and shifted position again.
Of all the people in all the world, did it really have to be Ross McClintock who came to his rescue tonight?
Maybe someday he’d remember this and find it funny.
Tonight…
He closed his eyes and ran a comforting hand down his dick, absently stroking it into semi life. It felt nice, but he didn’t have much of a sex drive now. That was probably just as well. In fact, the best thing would be if his sex drive didn’t come back. The head of his cock halfheartedly brushed the bottom of his belly. Ugh. A very weird feeling. God, he was big.
And ugly. He knew that. He had a butt now and his breasts felt huge. Matronly. Bearing a non-tribe baby was harder on the male body, which was why it rarely happened. He had put on a lot of weight. Thirty-three pounds at last weigh in. Too much for a normal pregnancy, but apparently normal for a male omega trying to carry a non-tribe baby to full term. The good news was the baby was completely healthy. He could pretty much put up with the swollen ankles, swollen feet, swollen hands and a face like a pumpkin, so long as Reid was okay.
Still. It was kind of hard on the ego. He’d seen the shock in Ross McClintock’s eyes. In those long ago fantasies he’d woven around Ross, he’d always pictured himself eventually pregnant, yes, but it was a cute, baby bump kind of pregnancy. He’d still been as slim and graceful as ever, he just had this little bowling ball of a tummy. Stretch marks had not factored in. Nor had giant, leaky nipples. Or having trouble walking.
He hadn’t expected to veer between wanting to cry all the time and wanting to punch someone. But hormones in a non-tribe pregnancy were much harder on everyone.
Frankly, pregnancy was hell.
Occasionally he was even a little glad, this would be his only one. But only occasionally.
He sighed and rolled onto his back. He listened to the silence of the old farmhouse for a while. The ghostly creaks. The phantom squeaks.
Was Ross sleeping?
Why not? What did Ross have to keep him awake? He’d probably never given Alex a second thought in all these years. Not like Alex had been the only omega with a crush on the single and very eligible bachelor sheriff of Sweet Water.
Except. Every once in a while, when Alex had been being more of a pest than usual, he’d see a little gleam of amusement mixed with something else in Ross’s light eyes that had made him blush, made him feel warm and tingly all over.
Even now, he felt hot and uncomfortable remembering some of his boyhood fantasies. Ross saving him from speeding cars and marauding gunmen and a lot of other dire dangers that had ended up posing virtually no threat to his adult life. He groaned softly. Those daydreams had ended with sweet kisses and promises of things to come. How totally naïve he’d been. You did not get claimed through kissing. Any more than you got pregnant from sitting on someone’s lap.
His smile faded, remembering how you did get pregnant.
What the hell was he going to do?
This was the thing he kept coming back to.
Would his parents take him off their health insurance? Would they close his bank accounts? For years, he had contributed to his savings, but they had originally set the accounts up for him. Could they cancel his accounts? His credit cards were probably already gone, and he wouldn’t use them anyway. Wasn’t going to take another penny from his parents. Except…what would he do for money?
If it was just him, it wouldn’t matter. He could manage somehow. But there was the baby to think of. Reid had to be his first priority.
There were relief programs he could and would apply for, but his work experience was pretty sketchy. He’d scooped ice cream, walked dogs, babysat, and worked as a file clerk in his father’s law office. He wasn’t going to be hired as a teacher. He wasn’t going to be hired as anything that paid more than minimum wage. How the hell would he support himself and the baby?
The rain had stopped when Alex opened his eyes.
Ross was right.
In the morning, everything did look…well, maybe not brighter, given that he was awake before the sun was up. But he felt calmer. After all, what didn’t kill you—or your baby—made you stronger. As this rate, by the time Reid was born, he was going to be made of titanium.
After shaving, showering, and dressing in clean clothes, he tiptoed into the kitchen and found it silent and still dark. That suited him perfectly. He didn’t want to find out whether Hungry-Man did a line of frozen breakfasts. Seriously.
There was a can of frozen orange juice concentrate in the freezer. It was a couple of years out of date, but probably still safe enough. He made orange juice, fixed coffee, rummaged through the fridge and found eggs, bacon, and a slightly stale loaf of bread, and set about cooking breakfast. He took after his father that way. His father was a very good cook. His dad…was very good at remembering the phone numbers of his favorite restaurants.
It made his eyes prickle thinking of his parents. He still loved them. It was very hard to think he might never see them again.
But it had been their decision, not his. They had forced him to choose, and that was not a fair or right thing to ask of him.
Before long the kitchen smelled pleasantly of frying bacon and hot coffee. Alex was just adding the eggs to the spitting, sizzling butter in the frying pan when he heard Ross’s boots on the staircase. Annoyingly, his heart immediately started jumping around his chest. Wasn’t he through with all that kind of thing? He was about to be a daddy. The last thing that should be on his mind was, well, anything but the enormous responsibilities ahead.
That’s what he told himself, but his heart was still pounding in that mix of nerves and excitement as Ross said behind him, “What’s all this?”
Alex glanced around. Ross looked freshly showered and shaved—and still grim. As handsome as ever though. His dark hair was going a little silver at his temples, but beyond that and a few laugh lines around his gray eyes, he hadn’t changed much over the years. He’d probably look pretty much the sa
me at sixty. Tall, lean, handsome—and grim.
“Breakfast. It’s nearly ready if you want to pull up a chair.”
“You cooked breakfast for me?”
Alex laughed. “It’s your food! Besides, how much do you think I eat?”
“Er, I don’t know. You’re eating for two.” Ross’s embarrassed glance at Alex’s stomach was funny.
“And I look like I’m eating for three.” Alex grinned at Ross’s surprise. But yes, he still had his sense of humor.
“Well, anyway, this is nice of you,” Ross said, a little awkwardly.
Alex set a full plate at the head of the table. Ross took his seat. “I usually don’t bother with more than a cup of coffee.” He sniffed appreciatively.
Alex set his own plate down and lowered himself to the hardbacked chair. He could have used a cushion, but oh well.
“You sleep okay?” Ross asked after a few bites, in that same reluctant tone.
“Okay enough. Better than I would have in my car.” Alex smiled at Ross, and once again caught that glimmer of…what? Ross did not want to let his guard down. He disapproved of Alex, and he did not want to let go of that, but he was a kind man too. He was sorry for Alex, sorry to see him in this situation.
Alex took a bite of eggs. “What time do you leave for Sweet Water?”
Ross glanced at the clock over the large, farmhouse sink. “Six thirty usually. I like to be in the office by seven.”
“Okay. Well, would you mind dropping me off at Nance’s Garage on your way into town? I’m hoping I can be on my way by lunch time.”
Ross frowned. “Nance’s doesn’t open until seven thirty. I don’t think you hanging around outside the shop is a great idea.”
Alex finished his orange juice. “It’s just for half an hour. If you’re worried I’ll go into labor, I’m not due for two weeks yet.”
If anything, Ross looked more alarmed. “Plus, you’re assuming Nance can fix your car today. You don’t know for sure it’s the alternator. It might be a belt or some other part he doesn’t have in stock. It might be the whole electrical system. Even if he can fix the car, you can’t sit around an auto repair shop all morning. All that noise and fumes can’t be good for you. Or the baby.”