by Leyla Hunt
“I could—if you want—bring some Chinese and order a movie?” I was already reaching for the menu on my fridge. I was old-school like that.
“You don’t have to go through that trouble. I’m not going to be the best of company.” He yawned.
“If you don’t want me there...that’s fine.” Not fine, but I’d understand. “But if you think I need to be entertained or something...don’t. Just being near you is enough. And my favorite Chinese place is along the way.” Ish. It wasn’t too hard to make it along the way.
“You’re sure?”
“Yes, but I need to know, are you a crab rangoon kinda guy?” He chuckled and we went through the menu together over the phone and ended up with an order a mile long.
The owner of the restaurant asked me if I was having a party as he handed me the box, and I just told him it was movie night and he threw in enough fortune cookies for an entire football team.
I called Ian as I parked, needing him to have the door open with my haul. He thought I was kidding and cracked up as I walked in.
“I’m pretty sure that is more than some crab rangoon and lo mein.”
“I ordered everything...like, all of it. Leftovers for the weekend.” I set it down on the counter and started to unpack as he grabbed the plates, napkins, and utensils.
“At least we won’t get hungry mid-movie.” He reached around me from behind, hugging me close. I turned in his arms. “You forgot this,” he sassed.
“More I wasn’t sure how you were feeling.” I embraced him, inhaling his scent.
“I’m feeling lazy, snuggly, and hungry.” He nuzzled into my chest.
“Sounds like the perfect evening to me.” I kissed the tip of his nose.
And it was a perfect evening. We watched a silly mystery where we both called the bad guy in the first scene, which was ten minutes ahead of the murder. We snuggled on the couch, and we ate so much Chinese food...so much. We laughed, we chatted, and we just were.
But the favorite part of the night was listening to his quiet snores as he slept peacefully against me, his body completely relaxed. It was hard to wake him up, not wanting to disturb him, but also not wanting him to wake up with a sore neck.
“Sweetheart, it’s time to go to bed.” I gave him a slight tap.
“I don’t wanna.” He rolled over a little. “Like it here.”
“And you will like your bed too.” I promised as I inched him up. He begrudgingly agreed, sitting up and rubbing his eyes, then letting out a long sigh.
“Will you stay...to sleep,” he asked tentatively. And I got it. He was taking sex off the table, and given the way we usually couldn’t keep our hands off of each other, I got it. It also made me sad that he thought he needed to precursor things like that.
“I would love to sleep beside you.” I pushed myself up and held out a hand for him. “Let’s get you in bed and then I’ll clean up enough to not have spoiled food in the morning and join you.”
He took my hand and stood, his eyes half-closed. “I’d tell you not to clean, but...it means a lot.”
“You mean a lot.”
He kissed my cheek. “You do too.”
He went off to bed, and I cleaned up the dishes, finding myself being extra diligent knowing it meant something to him. It was silly the way I got myself so puffed out and proud for the way I got his kitchen shiny, but puff out I did. I felt on top of the world as I climbed into bed and he nestled in close, his breathing already evening out as he dozed right off to sleep.
I lay there, holding onto consciousness as long as I could, just savoring the moment. I never had this with anyone...the ability to just be. Ian was the one. I could feel it in my bones.
He was the one. The one I wanted to go to sleep next to each night, the one I wanted to wake up beside each morning, the one I wanted to grow old with. It should scare me—having these thoughts so soon into our relationship, but it didn’t. It made me feel warm and fuzzy and...happy. So completely happy.
He was the one.
And that was the last thing I thought before giving in to sleep and having the best night’s sleep of my life.
Twenty-Four
Ian
“Ian! Time to wake up.”
Julian’s voice was disturbing my dreams. He’d been staying over at my place or me at his since the night he brought over the Chinese and cleaned my kitchen. It was amazing except today. The thought of getting up was just a big old nope.
“Don’t be a meanie. Let me go back to sleep, please.” I rolled over and shoved a pillow over my head hoping he’d take a hint and stop talking.
“It’s eight o’clock,” he said as he shook my shoulder.
I opened one eye. Julian was dressed for work in a suit and tie. “It’s Saturday. Why are you wearing that?” I grabbed his tie. “Come back to bed, babe. I’m exhausted and I need you to cuddle me.”
“Ian, it’s Friday.”
“What?” I shot up and instantly regretted it as the room spun around. Flopping backward onto the mattress, I groaned. I hadn’t drunk any alcohol so I wasn’t hungover But it sure felt like it.
“Maybe you should call in sick.”
“I can’t.” I flung off the bedclothes and sat up, wishing I hadn’t. “Have to go in today. Important meeting.”
“Shame you can’t work remotely. Your boss should get with the times. This is the 21st century.” He kissed my cheek. “I have to run. You sure you’re okay?”
No. I grunted and waved as I stumbled into the shower.
“See you tonight.”
The day dragged with meetings, boring paperwork, and colleagues asking me for favors and copies of documents they’d mislaid.
“Ian,” my friend, Daisy, yelled, “we’re going to the diner for lunch. Join us. There’s corn beef hash with your name on it.”
My stomach revolted at the thought of food. “I’ll take a raincheck. Need to finish up a report.”
But when everyone left, I put my head on the desk and slept until a smell so strong and so stomach-churning had my eyes snap open. A takeout container of food sat inches from my face, and Daisy was peeking over the partition that separated our desks.
Barely making it to the bathroom, I heaved the contents of my stomach into the toilet. As I was washing my hands, Daisy strode in with a washcloth and dabbed at my brow. But instead of frowning and tut-tutting, she was grinning.
“Am I missing something?” I asked as I studied my pale face in the mirror and noted the dark shadows under my eyes. Where did they come from?
She kissed my cheek. “I’m so happy for you, Ian.”
Turning and facing her, I said, “I’m lost. Fill me in. How does my being sick fill you with such glee? And let’s get out of this bathroom. It’s depressing.”
Daisy danced around me as we made our day back to my desk. “You told me you couldn’t conceive. That you were infertile.”
Her references to my inability to have kids had me thinking of Julian and how he’d be a great dad. That was something I couldn’t give him. I hated being reminded of my ‘condition’ as some people referred to it. My tired brain couldn’t make the leap to whatever Daisy was talking about so I plonked myself in the chair and pushed the food away.
“But you aren’t. Well, you are.”
Maybe she’s the one who needs to sit down. She wasn’t making any sense. I thought that was my job today. “Huh?”
“It’s so great that the doctor who told you that was wrong.”
Now I was annoyed. I’d told her about my infertility and she was what? Making fun of it? She had her kids. Tears pricked my eyes as I said, “Whatever you’re doing, stop.”
She paused. “Aren’t you happy?
“About what?” I practically screamed.
“Being pregnant!”
I slammed a fist on the desk which silenced the office background chatter. “I thought you were my friend, Daisy. What’s gotten into you?” I swung the chair around so she couldn’t see the tears stre
aming down my face.
She twisted the chair to face her and took both my hands. “Ian. I’ve got three kids. I recognize the signs a mile away. You’re having a baby.”
I struggled out of her grip. “No. I can’t be.”
“Trust me. Buy a test after work and message me when you get the results.”
If I’d had a hard time concentrating on work before lunch, waiting until I could get out of the office was excruciating. I stared at the clock on my computer and counted every minute. Usually I was the last one to leave, but today I was out the door just after five.
There was a pharmacy in the mall a block away, but I avoided it as the staff were friends with some of my colleagues. And I didn’t want to visit the one in my neighborhood. The phone beeped as I was driving around in circles coming up with excuses as to why I wasn’t pregnant. Finding out I was infertile had crushed me. But thinking I was pregnant and being wrong would destroy me.
And what about Julian? He’d probably assume I was so desperate to have a child, I’d fibbed and what? Tried to trap him? Fuck!
Julian! We were supposed to meet up later this evening. And the message on my phone was from him. I lied. Sorry. Huge fuck up with a client. Not mine. Working late all weekend. xxx
After crawling into bed, I spent a fitful night dreaming of a drooling baby and Julian saying, “That’s not my child!” I was at the door of a pharmacy across town when they opened.
I’d read articles of alphas and omegas sitting together, holding hands, and staring at the home pregnancy test. And I assumed I’d be denied that experience.
And now I was doing just that, but alone. The alarm on the phone beeped but the test was in the bathroom and I couldn’t move. My legs wouldn’t support me, so I crawled from the couch to the bathroom vanity and grabbed the three tests.
I can’t look. Not sure how long I sat there, my knees trembling along with my hands. The result could change my life. Just do it. Rip the band-aid off. Two pink lines. I checked the pic in the instructions and compared it to mine. Then the second. Same. And the third. Identical result. I’m pregnant!
Twenty-Five
Julian
Something was wrong with Ian...something more than just work. And not being there to help him was killing me. More than once over the weekend I almost did a surprise visit, but something held me back. Like he somehow needed the time or something.
But I couldn’t wait anymore.
I’d spent the morning pacing and getting absolutely zero work done.
And it wasn’t like he didn’t communicate with me or shut me down. He was just very formal and I miss you but I gotta finish this kind of thing. Or my least favorite of all—text back my phone calls.
“I’m taking the rest of the day off,” I told my boss, not bothering to ask. It wasn’t negotiable. I needed to make sure he was okay. The more I thought about it the more I was sure something was terribly wrong with him and I was inadvertently making it worse by not being there.
“Sure. See you tomorrow,” was all my boss said. I had more time built up than half the office anyway, so it wasn’t as though it was a problem.
I bolted out of the office and to my car, only stopping to grab some flowers from the stand outside the building. Not that I needed to drive, but I didn’t want it in the work lot when I was no longer...you know...working.
Flowers were like bringing in a little bit of sunshine, and I had a feeling he needed some. Or maybe he really was buried under work and I was going to be in his way. There was only one way to find out.
The parking fairy was with me and I managed to snag a spot right near the entrance of his office and went on up. I’d been here when picking him up for lunch recently, but usually we met downstairs, so when I walked in the actual office door I was surprised to be tackle-hugged by a woman I’d never met.
“You must be the father,” she squealed.
What the heck?
“Ummm, is Ian here?”
“Yeah, Dad! Come on out,” she called out, her arms still around me. Subtle she was not.
Ian came out, his jaw dropping as he saw us standing there, the flowers in my hands, my arms pinned to my side.
“Ian—who is this?”
“Oh sorry, love.” She stepped back and pinched my cheek. “I just feel like I know you. I’ll go back to my desk now.” And she did, but not until after rubbing Ian’s belly.
“I brought you flowers,” I said lamely. “And then the weird lady squeezed me like a lemon.”
“She can be...exuberant.” His eyes were sunken-in and red. Had he been crying?
“Take the day off,” I pleaded. “Come with me.”
“I have to work.”
“Take the day off, please.”
He gave me a nod and wandered back in the direction he came from, returning only a couple of minutes later.
“I can go.” He needed a nap or a steak or both. He looked so beat. I just wanted to gather him in my arms and take care of him.
“Bye, dads,” the weird lady called as we walked out the door.
“What is that even about?” I asked.
“Want to go to my place or yours?” he answered my question with a question.
“Whichever.”
“I’ll meet you at my place then,” he said.
I kissed his cheek as we reached the parking garage he was in. I wanted him to be able to relax and to take care of him. I still hadn’t figured out what was going on, but he needed me. “These are for you.” They were mushed a bit from when I was manhandled by his coworker, but it was the thought. Right?
“How do I even deserve you?” He held them to his nose.
“I ask myself the same question often.” I tapped his nose playfully. “How do I deserve you.”
The answer was, I didn’t.
I walked back to my car, and I was halfway there when the words of his coworker started to make sense. You must be the father. Dad! Bye, dads.
Ian was pregnant.,
I didn’t know how. I mean I knew how but not how, given he shouldn’t be able to. What I did know was that it was weighing on him.
Did he think he was alone in this?
Did he think I’d be mad?
Did he not want the baby?
My mind wandered with all the questions as I made my way to his place, racing up to the door, getting there just as he did.
“Are you?” I looked to his belly.
He nodded.
“Really?” I’d been afraid to get my hopes up too much on the way over, but standing there in front of him I saw it was already too late. Anything other than him being pregnant was going to crush me so hard.
He nodded again and opened the door, stepping inside. I followed him, clicking the door closed behind me.
“I thought you couldn’t.” I took a step closer and his body froze, stopping me in my spot.
“So did I.” His chin dropped, his eyes to the ground. .
“But you are.” He was pregnant. I was going to be a dad. A dad. With a child. My heart was soaring.
“You don’t have to…”
“Be the happiest alpha alive? I think I kind of do.”
His chin snapped up. “Really?”
“I love you, and when you said you couldn’t have kids, I—well, I accepted it, but in the back of my mind—it saddened me. I always wanted to have a family.” I opened my arms and he stepped inside.
“And you were going to give that up for me?”
“I wasn’t giving things up. I was getting the other half of my heart, and now...I’m also getting the title dad. Thank you.” There was so much to discuss, including why he hadn’t told me right away, but for now all I needed was him in my arms. “I love you, omega mine.”
“As I love you,” he lifted his head enough to capture my lips with his. “As I love you.”
Twenty-Six
Ian
“Pickles.”
Julian stuck his head in the fridge. “I swear there was an open j
ar here last night.” He glanced at me and folded his arms. “Seems we have a thief. Sneaks in here in the middle of the night and steals not a computer, phone, or money, but cucumbers in vinegar and spices.”
I burped. “Sorry. I finished them off before you got up this morning.”
He kissed my forehead and opened a cupboard door to reveal jars of pickles lined up in a row. “Ta da! Snuck them in while you were in the shower last night.”
“Now who’s the sneaky one,” I giggled. There was no way I would have found them as I couldn’t bend down that low, not with my huge belly. Hadn’t seen my toes in weeks. “I love you. And not just for your pickles.”
He grinned and pecked my nose. “You sure about that?”
“Think so.” I cocked my head.
“If it came to me or the pickles, which would you choose?” He grabbed a jar and balanced it on his palm.
“Ohhh!” I tapped my tips. “That’s a tough one. Might have to give it some thought. But when you get home tonight, if your suitcase is outside the front door, you’ll know I’ve made my choice.”
He waggled his brows. “Guess I’d better up my game.”
Grabbing his tie and pulling him close, I rubbed my nose against his. “Can’t you call in sick today?”
“Nope. Especially as I’m taking a month of paternity leave after the baby arrives.”
“Okay, fine.” I heaved myself up.
‘Hey, what are you doing?” Julian grabbed my arm. “When I’m here, ask me to get whatever you want.”
“Sweetheart, I need to pee.”
“Fine. I’ll help you to the bathroom.”
When I emerged, he was leaning against the doorway. “Julian, I love you, but I’m not an invalid. I can walk or should I say waddle.”
“Your waddle is adorable and so are you.” He kissed my bump and helped me onto the sofa before placing a book, phone, water bottle, pickles, and TV remote within reach. “Anything else before I go?”