Special Delivery: Autumn: An Mpreg Romance Collection

by Leyla Hunt

  “Cookies?”

  He smacked his head. “Of course. Cookies and pickles. Perfect combination. Why didn’t I think of that?”

  “Oh and peanut butter, please. And mayo.”

  I mixed the peanut butter and mayo and sucked it off the spoon. “Yum.” Julian made a face and said, “You missed a bit.”

  “Here,” I pointed to my brow.

  “Nope.”

  “Here.” This time it was my ear.

  He leaned over me so his warm, peppermint breath washed over my face and licked the corner of my mouth. “Interesting,” he said as he smacked his lips.

  “Admit it. It was good, right?”

  “It was something,” he said. “Good wasn’t the word I was going for.” He put a pile of paper napkins in my lap and dragged the garbage bin from the kitchen. He hated mess! “Okay, All set. Call me if you need anything.”

  “I will. Bye.”

  Five minutes later the phone rang. Julian! “Forget something?”

  “Yes. Moisturizer.” The pregnancy had made my skin so dry. I glanced up and it was on the kitchen bench. “I see it. No problem.” A horn beeped in the background. “Please tell me you’re not driving and phoning.” He’d been overprotective about me so I hoped he wasn’t doing dumb stuff.

  “I pulled over.”

  “Okay. Love you. Bye.”

  I took a nap as the baby had kept me awake most of the night kicking my ribs, and afterwards took a long soak in the tub. But as I added more hot water to the bath, the front door squeaked. Holy shit, someone broke into the apartment. Glancing around for a weapon, the closest thing I could find was a back scrubber. ‘Omega Fends Off Intruder With A Loofah’ wasn’t the headline I wanted to see in tomorrow’s news.

  Footsteps were getting closer, and I stuck out my hand for the phone. Fuck! It was on the sofa. I sank lower in the tub trying to hide myself, and I draped a protective arm over my belly.

  “Ian! Are you okay?”

  “Julian! You scared me half to death.” I pitched the wet loofah at his head and water splattered his favorite suit.

  “What was that for?” he cried.

  “I thought you were a burglar. Don’t sneak up on me!”

  He kneeled beside the bath. “I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t think.”

  “And why are you here? Did I sleep the day away?”

  “You weren’t picking up the phone and I was worried. All I could think of was you were hurt, and I couldn’t get out of the office fast enough. You are my world, Ian. You and our little one.”

  God how I love this man! I took deep breaths in and out hoping to lower my blood pressure. “Help me up, please, and hand me my robe.”

  We sat together on the couch and I took his hand. “I get that you want to look after me and protect me and the baby. And you do. You are. But if you’re concerned, phone Mr. Stevens next door.”

  Our neighbor was a spritely eighty-year-old who had a better social life than I did. After I started paternity leave, he often popped in with chocolate or gossip about someone at his bridge club.

  “I’m really sorry. Thought you’d fallen or something. And I was terrified.”

  “Shout my name next time, so I know it’s you.” I rested my head on his shoulder. “Are we going to be good parents, Julian?”

  “We’ll be great,” he reassured me. “We’ll fuck up, but we’ll muddle through.”

  “Hope so.” I lifted my head and checked the time. “It’s only three o’clock. Do you have to head back to the office?”

  “No. You’re looking at an alpha who’s begun paternity leave.”

  “Either aliens have erased my memory or you’ve started earlier than you were supposed to.”

  “A week, yeah. Boss said I was no use at work. Told me to take off. Said he understood.”

  “Wow!”

  “So,” he nuzzled my throat. “What are we going to do with this week before the baby comes?”

  I placed a hand on his crotch. “Ummm. Thinking… thinking.”

  “How about we do the thinking in bed?”

  “I like that idea.”

  He picked me up. “Do we need to bring pickles?”

  “Nah. We’re good.”

  Twenty-Seven

  Julian

  “You’re being ridiculous.” Ian closed his eyes and shook his head. “We don’t need to do this now.”

  “But you want to.”

  “I do...but it’s stupid.” He wrinkled up his nose. “It’s not like you will love me more because of the stupid rings or anything.”

  “But it’s tradition.” I kissed the tip of his nose. “And it will make both of us happy which is the best reason I can think of.” He’d mentioned the night before how he never thought of getting married because marriage equated babies in his mind, and now that he was having one, he was thinking more and more about it. That was all it took.

  I made phone calls, had rings purchased, and organized an appointment at city hall all before noon.

  “Are you sure?” he asked for the fifth time. “I don’t want you to feel stuck.”

  “Oh sweet omega mine, don’t you get it? I want to be stuck with you for always. I only didn’t ask you before because you seemed marriage averse, and now that I have an open door, I’m barging in.” I put my arm around his shoulders. “Do me this great honor?”

  “Yes.”

  It was only a short drive to the courthouse where we said our I do’s. We would have a party for our friends and co-workers later. This was for us.

  “There was a lot of paperwork in that.” He cupped my cheek as we reached the car. “Any regrets? I know you hate paperwork.”

  “Regrets that the sexiest omega on this planet agreed to be tied to me for the rest of my life? Heck no.” We kissed sweetly, yet awkwardly, his belly in the way.

  “Let’s get you home and naked,” I spoke against his lips.

  “Yes.” He kissed me again, and this time we were interrupted by the phone ringing.

  “Probably a survey.” He sighed, but reached into his pocket anyway. “Shit. I forgot my doctor’s appointment.”

  I opened the door for him as he answered the call with an apology, and by the time I walked around the other side of the car, he asked if we could go straight to the doctor. They had been kind enough to hold the appointment for us, which I found strange at the time, but as the doctor walked into the exam room, it became clear.

  “So your recent blood work came back and I’m thinking tonight is a good time to have a baby.” Both of our jaws dropped.

  “Is something wrong with our little one?” Ian’s hands clenched his belly.

  “No, but your numbers are going in the wrong direction and this can help avoid any problems.” He went into a lot more detail, half of which I didn't understand, but by the time he was done, a plan was in place. We were having our baby—tonight.

  “I guess we got hitched just in time,” he teased as we walked into the lobby on our way to triage.

  “We’ve got this, love. You’ve got this.” I kissed his cheek as he waddled beside me down the hallway and up two different elevators because for some reason they set it up that way.

  “There is a ton more paperwork here than the wedding,” I sassed as he filled out paper after paper—which then was added into the computer so the paper part perplexed me. “If all paperwork led to good things like a sexy husband and a child...I wouldn’t mind so much.”

  “Sweet talker.” He handed me the pile, which I gave to the nurse, and we were whisked back where they started his induction. They had me in and out of the room as they added epidurals and IVs and asked him questions, and by the time dusk rolled around we were in a labor-and-delivery room, in labor in full force.

  It was the hardest thing I ever did, watching Ian be in so much pain, unable to carry any of it for him. I did all I could; holding his hand, getting him ice chips, telling him how proud I was. It didn’t feel enough.

  At around nine o’clock, the
nurse came in with a doctor and told us it was almost baby time—Ian just needed to give a few little pushes and all would be perfect.

  Those pushes, the expression on his face, the color of his skin, the way his arms formed fists were the opposite of little pushes, but as the sounds of our child’s cry filled the room everything changed. That one little sound changed everything.

  “Congratulations, dads, you have a beautiful baby boy,” the doctor announced and handed him to the nurse who busied away measuring and cleaning him up.

  “We have a son.” Ian looked up at me, his face worn but happy...so very happy. “Thank you, alpha mine.”

  The nurse settled him on Ian’s chest.

  “It is I who should be thanking you.” I kissed his brow. “He’s perfect.”

  “Do you have a name for him?” the nurse asked.

  “Yes. His name is Aaron,” Ian said, his eyes glued to our little bundle.

  Aaron meaning miraculous.

  Aaron, our little miracle.

  About Harper B. Cole and Colbie Dunbar

  About Harper B. Cole

  Harper B. Cole is the pseudonym of three award-winning, bestselling authors (including two USA Today Bestsellers) who love telling stories in the Omegaverse almost as much as they adore reading them.

  Harper’s Amazon page

  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 highwaymen 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?

  Colbie’s Amazon page

  Also by Harper B Cole and Colbie Dunbar

  Missing His Omega

  Accepting His Omega

  Searching For His Omega

  Also by Harper B. Cole

  Café Om Love

  Also by Colbie Dunbar

  The Spell Checker

  Witching You A Merry Christmas

  Bubble of Love

  Leyla Hunt

  (A Unionville Novella)

  Copyright © 2020 Leyla Hunt

  All rights reserved.

  Except for brief quotes for the purpose of inclusion in a book review, no part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author. No part of this publication may be sold or hired without written permission from the author.

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.

  Twenty-Eight

  Jamie

  “Jamie! I never thought you’d be back, but here you are!”

  Kimmy, my oldest friend in the world, nearly smothered me with a hug when I walked into Fuse café, where we’d agreed to meet. I’d just arrived in Unionville, my hometown, and hadn’t even seen my parents and sister yet. Granted, they were still at work, but it was no surprise that I’d made time for Kimmy this soon. Being omegas and having grown up down the street from each other, we were truly best friends.

  He finally released me from the hug and I took a good look at him. The same open smile, the same friendly eyes that I remembered. It was great to be back near family and loved ones. Such a difference from my somewhat lonely existence in New York.

  “Gee, it’s been what—almost a year?” I asked.

  “Yeah!” He pouted. “You don’t make time for us small-town folk anymore, it seems. You’re too important for us, Mr. Fashionista!”

  I laughed, because I knew he was pulling my leg, as usual. I’d finished a diploma program in fashion design in New York City a year ago, and had worked for some up and coming designers over the past year, but trying to get my name out there had been frustrating, so I’d made the decision to come home to Unionville for the fall in order to regroup. Although it was a small town, Unionville had a special energy in the fall, partly because of the sea of students who came back to their studies at Unionville University.

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Kimmy. I’d never forget the little people,” I joked, to his delight. So, tell me what’s new.” I said as I sank into the chair across from him.

  Kimmy looked toward the ceiling with his green eyes. “Um, a bunch of us are going to The Boxer this Saturday. Are you game? Wait—I should ask first—are you still single or have you hooked an alpha since we last spoke two days ago? Don’t say you weren’t warned. It’s expected to be a meat market! So bring you’re a-game. If not for yourself, then at least for me.”

  I sighed. “Yes, I’m still single, but that doesn’t mean I don’t get destroyed on a regular basis, if you know what I mean.” I winked. It was true, and I wasn’t afraid to admit it. I was somewhat of a “promiscuous” omega, if we wanted to be polite about it. I chuckled.

  Kimmy nodded, leaned forward, and rested his chin on his fist. “Tell me about it.”

  “You know.” I shrugged.

  “No, I mean, tell me about it. I want to hear all about the last time an alpha made sweet love to you. Was he gentle at first, or did he go in guns blazing?”

  I nearly snorted out the pumpkin spiced mocha he’d ordered for me.

  “There were no guns involved, but yes, let’s just say I didn’t walk right for a day or two.” I raised my brows suggestively.

  “That's hot…” he said with a faraway look on his face.

  “I take it you’re out there looking?”

  “Am I ever! And I’m going to find him this Saturday night. The place will be packed with hungry alphas, just wait and see. I’m going to go home with the hottest of them all.” He sat back in his seat, very satisfied with his prediction.

  Unless I do, I thought. “Sounds like a plan.”

  “So, are you in?” His eyes were wide as saucers.

  He was so hopeful, and I knew he wouldn’t take no for an answer. It didn’t take me long to decide. After all, there was nothing like hometown loving.

  “Sure! Let’s do it!”

  Kimmy’s eyes crinkled up at the corners.

  This would be fun! I'd see a bunch of old friends, meet some hot alphas, and let loose. Thoughts of Saturday night stayed with me during the drive to my childhood home. I was definitely game for some no-strings-attached fun, but there was always the chance I’d make a deeper connection. You never know, right? I’d never share those hopes with anyone, because…well, I didn’t know why. Maybe it was fear of failure. In any case, it was better to keep my expectations in check. What were the odds of falling in love my first weekend home, anyway?

  My mom’s Volvo was in the driveway when I arrived in front of the two-story stone house in our quiet cul-de-sac. Sweet, someone was home! I hadn’t seen my family in months, and although I wasn’t one for wearing my heart on my sleeve, I missed them a bunch.

  It was already five-thirty, so I was just in time for dinner and I couldn’t help hoping Mom had cooked my favorite potato gratin dish. She was the best cook and it was about time I learned a thing or two from her, so I’d made a promise to myself to take a few lessons.

  I knocked and rang the doorbell. When the door swung open, I was greeted by the brightest smile I’d seen in a while, and it warmed my heart.

  “Mom!”

  “Jamie!” she practically squealed, engulfing me in an enthusiastic hug. I thought she’d never let go. Her familiar scent was a source of comfort that I wished I’d had when things were tough in the city.

  “It’s been so long! Are you eating at all? I see that you're skin and bones, no matter how well you try to hide it from me!” She squeezed my arm for good measure. Of course, she was right—everything I ate seemed to go right through me. It probably hadn't helped that in New York, I hadn’t had a moment’s rest. I’d always been on the move
—from home to work, work to home, then out with friends or some professional obligation...It had been utterly exhausting, and I was glad to finally catch my breath.

  I groaned as I passed her on my way in. “Stop it, Ma. I’ve always been on the thinner side.”

  “I know, honey,” she called from behind as she followed me in, “but I hope you’re not on a ridiculous diet. I know how harsh the fashion industry could be. Some of those models should come over for dinner. I’d get some meat on them bones, that’s for sure.”

  A laugh escaped my lips as I shrugged off my cardigan, which she promptly took and hung up. “You know about it, do you?”

  She nodded. “I do, and I don’t agree with it at all. I mean, fashion is supposed to be for everyone, and most of us aren’t naturally a size zero, right?”

  “Correct, Ma. But don’t worry about me, okay? I’m fine.”

  “Okay, fair enough. I was just saying. In any case, dinner will be ready by the time Dad gets home, and Kylie’s upstairs. She’ll be down any minute.”

  “Jamie?”

  A lovely voice rang through the living room as my little sister, who still lived at home, bounded down the stairs. “Is that really you, or is it my imagination?”

  Before I could respond, she jumped into my arms and I twirled her around, making sure not to drop her on the floor. Physical strength wasn’t my forte.

  “I’m not an impostor, I swear!” I placed her back on her feet gently. She took my face in her hands and stared into my eyes, as if not quite believing it was really me.

  “You haven’t forgotten us, have you? I’ve missed you so much! Come, sit down and tell me about how you’ve been.” She pulled me over to the couch and with a firm push on my shoulders, sat me down. “I want to hear all about the big city. Where’s your stuff, by the way?”