Special Delivery: Autumn: An Mpreg Romance Collection

by Leyla Hunt

  “Not interested.” I couldn’t pinpoint a reason why I hadn’t told him about Steve. When we’d said goodbye at the end of the school year, what we had was so new, I wasn’t ready to give it a name. I would have told Arthur at the lake, but by then, Steve and I were experiencing a wobble, and I dared not say anything for fear of jinxing it.

  But now? What did I have to lose? “Remember that night you knocked on the door and I said I was on a conference call?”

  “Yeah. What about it?”

  “I wasn’t alone.”

  “I knew it.” He jumped up. “I sensed something was wrong.”

  I shook my head. “It was nothing like that. The opposite, in fact.”

  His eyes grew wide and he smirked. “You sly dog. Who is he?” He steepled his fingers and furrowed his brow as he concentrated. “Is it a professor? That cute omega in the social science department who always wears a bow tie?”

  “No, not a member of the faculty.”

  “Who then?” He sat forward on the edge of his seat.

  “Student.” I held up my hand. “No. Not one of mine.” It had been necessary to add that as I didn’t want to hear him shriek about professors and students fraternizing.

  “So what’s the problem? How did you meet him?”

  Leaving out the intimate details, I explained about the mishap at the escape room and what had occurred during the summer.

  He sighed and leaned over and patted my hand. “I hate to tell you this but you’ve been ghosted.”

  “Ouch!” I hated that expression though had encountered it often enough listening to students in the hallways and while walking around campus. “No. Ghosting is when the person stops contacting you completely.” I shoved Steve’s last message in his face.

  He shrugged and came to my side of the desk and gave me a big hug.

  ”I thought we had something good,” I explained

  Arthur commiserated with me and changed the subject to discuss his classes. I zoned out while my friend talked and gave a feeble wave when he finally left.

  While heading to my car, a movement in the corner of my eye had me glance up. Steve! He had a deer in the headlights expression clamped on his face but he was leaning on my car so he had to have been waiting for me. And weirdly, his messenger bag was clamped over his stomach as though he were afraid someone might steal it. This was hardly a high crime area.

  “Hi.”

  He shuffled his feet and didn’t look at me, which was a knife to my heart. The hurt was real, and I whimpered. Seeing him in person made our loss of contact more painful. “Hi.” He returned my greeting but his voice had an air of resignation.

  “It’s good to see you. How are you?”

  “Fine.” He studied his sneakers. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you, but it never seemed like the right time.”

  My heart constricted, understanding what he was trying to say, but I needed to hear the words. “Now’s good.”

  “Nah. I can’t. Later at your place. Are you free?”

  “Sure.”

  “See you around six thirty?”

  I nodded and waited for him to leave, but he shuffled away from the car, never turning his back on me, his fingers clutching that damned bag. And after I drove away, I checked the rear view mirror and he was staring after me.

  Ten

  Steve

  I caught a rideshare to Marc’s. It was the perfect fall evening. Cool, but not yet uncomfortably cold. The leaves turning shades of orange and yellow and fluttering onto the road where he lived had me thinking this street was a great place to bring up kids. Whoa! Don’t think that way.

  I had the driver pull up at the end of the street. I didn't want Marc bounding out to greet me when the car pulled up. After glancing at my watch, I sauntered along the sidewalk. I had five minutes, and as I headed toward his house, I took in the kids playing in their front yard, parents arriving home from work, one neighbor cutting his grass, greeting their neighbors who were walking the dog.

  Part of me yearned for the stability a family offered, but the cynical side of me was thinking no one knew what went on behind closed doors.

  My trusty messenger bag which was my constant companion was slung over one shoulder, one hand gripping the leather afraid to let go. When I reached Marc’s house, I hesitated and took a step back, knowing once I knocked on his door, I couldn’t undo my decision to speak to him.

  It’s now or never! I strode up the path and rang the bell. He opened it straight away. Had he been hovering near the door? Probably. I would have done the same. Poor guy. I was certain he suspected I was coming here to end things. A blind man would have sensed how strained things were between us.

  Instead, I was about to deliver a bombshell.

  “Hi,” he said tentatively as he flung open the door.

  “Hey. Thanks for letting me come over.”

  “Of course.” He peered over my shoulder. “You didn’t cycle?”

  “Nope. Not tonight.”

  He indicated for me to sit. I’d been in his home countless times and yet tonight I was a stranger. “Have you eaten? I can put an order in for whatever you want? Chinese? Italian? Vietnamese?” He listed food we’d eaten and enjoyed.

  “I’m fine.”

  His face fell. “Glass of wine?” This was the puppy dog eager-to-please version of Marc that I adored, but what I was delivering was… what? Disappointment? Shock? He was such a sweetheart. He had a bottle of my favorite Chardonnay chilling in an ice bucket.

  “Marc, I’ve come to tell you something.” One look at his face and I had to put him out of his agony. “It’s not what you think. I’m not here to break up with you. Well, that sort of depends on you but no pressure. I understand if that’s not what you want.”

  He sat on the couch beside me and took my hand, different emotions criss-crossing his face. “Steve, I love you.”

  Much as I wanted to repeat those words, I wasn’t here to discuss our emotions or what we were to one another. And I couldn’t put it off any longer. Best to show, not tell. I stood up and removed my bag. The love in his eyes was replaced by shock or perhaps the latter just shoved the affection aside.

  His slack-jawed appearance had me worried he was going to faint. Run out screaming, perhaps. “Marc? Marc?” I waved a hand in front of his face and fanned him. But I’d misjudged this man, this gentle alpha who’d shown me nothing but kindness and affection—except when it came to sex. Only then did his alpha tendencies rear their head.

  “Oh, my God!”

  “It was that first night on the carpet,” I explained though I wasn’t sure he heard me.

  He got to his knees so his eyes were level with my belly. The belly that had expanded since we’d said goodbye at the beginning of summer. The same belly that held his child. I had begun to show in the last couple of weeks, and I’d deliberately avoided Marc on campus.

  And now shame overwhelmed me and I buried my face in my hands. Not having faith in this man to accept the news and for us to sit down as adults and decide how we were going to move forward was a huge mistake.

  “You’re having a baby. My baby. Our baby.”

  “Yes.” I took his hand and placed it on my belly.

  His eyes welled with tears as he stroked my stomach. And then he snapped back. “What am I thinking letting you stand? Sit, sit. You need to eat.”

  “I had a sandwich at the cafeteria.” Thankfully I was over my morning sickness.

  “That’s not good enough. I made chicken soup yesterday.”

  I wasn’t hungry, but the mention of his famous soup had my eyes lighting up. “Maybe a small bowl?”

  “And can I tempt you with sourdough toast?” he asked.

  “You made it?”

  “I did.”

  “Yes, please.” He was an excellent baker, and the aroma that filled the kitchen was the smell of home. And love.

  How easily we slipped into the comfort zone we’d occupied before the summer. Sitting at his kitchen table w
hile he heated the soup and fussed over the thickness of the toast struck me as something I wanted in my life. This man by my side, looking after me when needed, me doing the same when he needed it.

  He sat by my side as I scarfed dinner. Food made with love. The best kind. But we were avoiding the big talk. “Marc, we don’t need to discuss this tonight, but we have to decide how we’re going to move forward.”

  Surprise registered on his face. “You’ll move in here, of course.” Though he’d never been to my place, I’d explained the living situation where I shared a small apartment with three grad students. It was far from ideal but it was cheap. I hadn’t gotten so far as to think how I’d manage when the baby came. Drop out of college yet again and live with my dad perhaps.

  “No,” I stated while putting a hand on his leg

  “What?” The excitement that had taken hold of him melted away. “Is there…?”

  “No. Just you. And this one.” I pointed to my tiny bump. “But we were in the beginning stages of getting to know one another when I left for the summer.” I took his hand. “Let me ask you this. If I weren’t pregnant, would you be asking me to move in with you?”

  He sat back and sighed. “No.”

  “And why not?”

  “It’s too soon,” he answered.

  Epilogue

  Marc

  “You’ve stayed here every night this month except one.”

  We were in my bed and Steve was cuddled up next to me, though his huge belly was coming between us. Thankful it was Saturday and we didn’t have to get up yet, I nudged him and he opened one eye and asked, “Are you going to charge me rent?”

  “No. Why would you even…?” I paused. “That was a joke, right?”

  “Ummm.”

  “The point I’m trying to make is we said months ago it was too soon for you to move in here.” He flung an arm over my chest. “And it was a sensible decision at the time, but admit it, Steve, we live together.”

  He hauled himself into a sitting position, and I stuffed pillows behind his back. Though the birth was only six weeks away, we hadn’t agreed on our living situation. It was insane! Steve hadn’t wanted to discuss it, saying we were fine for the moment. But we had to make a decision. We either lived together or he moved back to his dad’s. Far from here.

  It wasn’t about the house. It was us and what we were to one another.

  “You’re right.”

  What? “I am?”

  “You sound surprised.” He rubbed his belly and leaned his head on my shoulder.

  “I was prepared for an argument.”

  “Saying those words were a big deal. And I was scared that somehow it’d be taken away from me,” he explained.

  “What would?”

  “Happiness. I’m so used to getting by and making do. But this, you, Marc. You’re my safety net and my love. You’re always there for me.” He gave me a peck on the lips. “And I love you for it.”

  “I love you too. Does this mean we can unpack the baby stuff that’s sitting in boxes in the second bedroom?” I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  “I think you mean the nursery.”

  Our daughter Felicity lay sleeping in her crib, and I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She was my angel.

  “We have a baby monitor, Marc. There’s no need to stand guard at the door,” Steve whispered over my shoulder.

  “But she might open her eyes and I won’t be here.” I eyed the large stuffed bear Arthur and Samuel had sent as it sat in the rocking chair. I tiptoed into the room and turned the bear around.

  Steve side-eyed me. “What are you doing?”

  “I don’t trust that Teddy. I think he’s trying to one up me by telling our daughter he loves her more than I do.”

  Steve rolled his eyes before grabbing my hand and dragging me toward our bedroom. “You need sleep.”

  “I’m fine.”

  “You’re jealous of Teddy, Marc.”

  I flopped onto the mattress beside him. “Well, when you put it like that, maybe you’re right.” I yawned, and he did the same. “What did we do before Felicity arrived?

  “Had a lot of sex,” he said.

  “Good times. Maybe we could go back to the escape room,” I suggested.

  “Nah, I’ve heard they’ve had cameras installed in all the rooms.”

  “Damn! No escape rooms for us.” I kissed him and took him in my arms.

  About Colbie Dunbar

  My characters are sexy, hot, adorable—and frequently filthy—alphas and omegas. Feudal lords with dark secrets, lonely omegas running away from their past, and alphas who refuse to commit.

  Lurking in the background are kings, mafia dons, undercover agents, and highway men with a naughty gleam in their eye.

  As for me? I dictate my steamy stories with a glass of champagne in one hand. Because why not?

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  Also By Colbie Dunbar

  Idriador Chronicles

  Book 1 The Alpha’s Vow

  Book 2 The Alpha’s Word

  Book 3 The Alpha’s Bond

  Idriador Chronicles

  Fragrant Sanctuaries Trilogy

  Book 1 The Alpha’s Game

  Baron Kit Conroy Series

  Book 1 The Alpha Highwayman

  Flickering Shadows Trilogy

  Book 1 The Alpha Vampire’s Proposal

  Steamy Mpreg Holiday Romance

  The Omega’s Sun-Kissed Valentine

  The Alpha’s Devilishly Hot Halloween

  Vale Valley Series

  The Spell Checker

  Witching You A Merry Christmas

  Co-written with Lorelei M. Hart

  Blind Date for Valentines

  Blind Date for St. Patrick’s

  Blind Date for Spring

  Blind Date for Father’s Day

  Matched To His Wolf

  Matched To His Bear

  Co-written With Harper B. Cole

  Missing His Omega

  Accepting His Omega

  Searching For His Omega

  Flipping For His Omega

  Visit my Amazon page or website for more information.

  Finding His Purpose

  Jena Wade

  Eleven

  Sanford

  I drove down the bumpy lane of the Greycoast Pack drive that led to their cluster of pack houses nestled deep within the woods of their territory. It had been years since my last visit, way too long if I was honest, but I had been busy.

  So busy that twenty-five years went by?

  I had been content to wander for all of my adult life. I’d visited various shifter communities around the country, wrote their stories, and worked with the shifter council to keep our histories documented. I'd kept in touch with friends over the years, which is what I was doing now, finally taking the time to visit my old friend from college. He had left his pack lands in pursuit of an education and returned as soon as he had finished his degree. Wolves were pack animals after all.

  I didn’t have a pack. Most porpoises didn’t, unless of course, they found their fated mate. I had long since given up that dream.

  After a few more minutes of driving, I entered the clearing where the Greycoast pack had their homes clustered together. I parked next to the barn, where there were several other vehicles. It wouldn’t be hard to find Zack’s house. He’d sent me a picture. Though the last time I was here, he had lived in an apartment style home with other alphas. Now, he had his own family. Three pups if I remembered correctly.

  The pack had grown considerably since my last visit. Many of the pack members stopped and sniffed the air as I exited my car. I had to be an odd scent for them. A porpoise shifter in the middle of the forest? It was like the start of a b
ad joke.

  I didn't feel as out of place as I should have though, and a feeling of comfort settled over me like I was visiting my home. I stopped for a moment to gain my bearings. I didn’t have a home, so it was odd to think of any place as feeling like home. The trees around the cluster of houses all welcomed in the chilly air. The reds and yellows of the leaves meshed together in a brilliant fall pattern.

  The pack Alpha came out of his house and I recognized my old friend next to him. I recognized the Alpha because it was hard not to. His house was the largest, but not by much. The man simply exuded power. I had enough experience with packs to know who was in charge.

  They both waved hello to me. Zack’s wide smile matched my own.

  “It's so good to see you,” I said. I nodded my head towards the Alpha. I knew their custom was to bear their neck, but I was not a wolf, nor a pack member. He respected it all the same. He held out his hand and I shook it.

  “Byrom Vicardi. Welcome to Greycoast.”

  “Sanford Harbor. It's nice to meet you,” I said. “Thank you for allowing me to visit here.”

  “You're welcome. Please make yourself at home, Zack has been howling all week about having you visit.”

  I grinned. “I’ve also been excited.”

  Zack clapped me on the back. “It's good to see you, old friend. Come and meet my mate.”

  I had a slight pang of jealousy. My friend had found his mate just after college. I had never met her, or any of their pups. But I would today.

  “The kids, too, I assume?”

  “Yes. But don’t let them hear you call them kids. They're all off adventuring right now.”

  “On their own?” My brow knitted in concern.

  Zack laughed. “Well, they're all of age, you know. My oldest is twenty-three. My youngest is twenty already.”

  “Oh damn,” I said with a chuckle. “Thank goodness I didn’t stop and buy them gifts along the way. I would have been way off.”