Roseville Romance

by Lorelei M. Hart

  Robbie. The babysitter. That brought on even more images. Damon was already a super dad. I could imagine him with a baby, too… “Can you take long enough for a quick coffee?”

  He tilted his head and shrugged. “Why not. I am just a little tipsy and don’t like to show up at home that way anyway. Amber gossips a little.”

  We drifted toward the exit, hands linked, pausing to pick up our jackets, and stepped out into the chill night air. A big yellow moon sailed overhead, reminding me of the song, of the dream.

  Pausing near the car, Damon tipped his face up to me, the light on his face making him more of a temptation than I could resist, and I cupped his chin and brought my lips to his. A slow, deep kiss, urging his mouth open so I could explore at my leisure. I rested my hands on his hips, he locked his arms around my neck, and we kissed until someone leaving the lounge told us to get a room. Which sounded like the best idea I’d heard all night. If not for the babysitter situation.

  But others were coming out now, flowing past us, and the moment was broken.

  I opened the door for Damon and then went around and climbed in the driver’s side. As we pulled out of the parking lot, my date leaned his head back and drew a deep breath. “Wow. Did I say thank you?”

  I flashed him a grin and made a left at the corner, the late hour making traffic almost nonexistent. “I think you might have. But I have to thank you, as well.”

  “You’re welcome,” he replied. “I only wish I didn’t have to get home before too long, but you know…”

  “I do know.” Driving past the closed businesses of our town, only the neon of the service station and mini-mart adding its light to the moonglow, I mused, “One day I want to visit Africa.” I drove with one hand, reaching to take his with the other.

  “That sounds nice,” he murmured, “Did the song remind you?”

  “Yes. But I think to do it right, I’d want lots of time. To explore it with someone special.”

  “That would be crazy.”

  “Maybe much later, as a reward after years of hard work, raising a family, it would—”

  A sharp intake of breath caught my attention, and I glanced to the side.

  “Something wrong?”

  Damon peeled his fingers from mine and seemed to shrink against the car door. “Take me home.”

  “What?”

  “I just...it’s so late.”

  It was only a few minutes later than when he’d agreed to go with me for a coffee, and I scanned my brain to think what I’d done to upset him. We’d been floating along, having a good time…

  “Okay.” I turned right at the next corner, headed for his place. “Maybe I can come in for a coffee before I go home, after you’ve sent Amber on her way.”

  “I don’t think so,” he said. “The foster program is very particular about who stays overnight.”

  Overnight? I’d only suggested coffee, and he was acting like I’d whipped it out and suggested we get right down to business.

  Chapter Eight

  Damon

  I got inside the door and barely contained my cool while I paid Amber through her babysitting app and made sure Robbie was already in bed. Amber said he had tuckered out halfway through Zombieland, which violated the horror movie rule, but barely. That movie was more comedy than horror anyway.

  I busied myself cleaning the kitchen while the tears flowed freely down my face. I swiped at them when my vision became too blurred, but refused to focus on the issue. My stomach seized and fizzled with nervousness as I placed the dishes a little too orderly in the dishwasher and wiped down the counters at least three times. Finally, with nothing else to distract me, I slid down onto the floor, my back bumping against the lines of the cabinets, into a heap of melancholy.

  Fuck, why couldn’t I just be a normal omega?

  I brought my knees to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, trying to keep myself together before I completely fell apart.

  Patrick had been amazing. The dinner was perfect and I couldn’t stop staring at him. Even the lounge with its cheesiness and gooshy eighties love songs was beyond fun.

  And then I had to ruin it.

  By just being me.

  I sat there for almost an hour before realizing I had to try to get some sleep.

  But Patrick deserved an explanation. It would, of course, end whatever we’d started, but he wanted a family and I couldn’t give him that.

  He would be a wonderful father to someone, someday.

  I fished my phone out of my pocket and texted him. It was the middle of the night, but he would see it in the morning.

  Robbie has a soccer game in the morning. Wanna meet me there so we can talk?

  I dropped the phone on the tiles and intended any minute to get up and drag myself to bed, though I knew sleep would never come.

  The notification tone scared the crap out of me. I picked up the phone to check it.

  Yes. We should talk. Ross Fields?

  Yes. Eight.

  There was no choice. I had to be honest and open with him. He needed to move on sooner than later. I would have to make sure to make him understand what a wonderful man he was and how lucky another omega would be to have him.

  Another omega to kiss him and bring him his favorite coffee and carry his babes.

  I gathered myself and headed down the hallway, checking one more time on Robbie who was halfway on the bed and halfway off. I straightened him out and pulled up the covers and then got into bed.

  ***

  The next morning, I tried like hell to focus on Robbie. He was full of energy and even after eggs, bacon, and toast, claimed to be starving.

  “If you eat too much, you’re gonna blow chunks all over the field. Then the rest of the team is going to slip in it and get it on their uniforms. Then someone else is going to throw up. Next thing you know, I’m getting fourteen phone calls about you throwing up bacon and eggs on the field.”

  “Dramatic much? Do you need more coffee? Patrick a lame date?”

  The kid’s sass knew no bounds.

  “Not a lame date. Yes, I need more coffee. Let’s go.”

  I picked up Robbie’s bag along with the sack of oranges I’d promised I’d bring for halftime. We stopped through the local coffee shop drive-thru where I demanded the biggest cup of anything but pumpkin spice, and Robbie leaned over and ordered two pastries.

  “What did I say about chunks on the field?”

  The kid had the nerve to press his hand against his belly. “Please, sir. I’m withering away.” His drama came complete with a British accent that left much to be desired.

  “I’m finding a new babysitter. Amber is rubbing off on you.”

  I got my obscene cup of coffee and Robbie’s pastries. The woman at the window thought he was so cute that she threw in some kind of sous vide omelet concoction as well.

  “Off to soccer. We can still make it in time.”

  I rushed over and finally was able to sit in the stands after enduring the cheers and the team’s words of encouragement. There was just so much I could take on zero sleep.

  “Am I late?” a voice that I knew well whispered in my ear.

  “No, right on time. They’re about to start.”

  He had his own cup of coffee, pumpkin spice. I smelled the cinnamon and nutmeg right away. I felt like shit for not getting him a cup, but I didn’t want to lead him on. This ended—today.

  There was no easy way to say what I needed to say, so I just blurted it out once the cheers from the stands got loud. “I can’t have children.”

  He didn’t look at me. Instead, took a long pull of his coffee and then tried to take my hand in his. I moved mine away and attempted to quell the tears to no end.

  “Why not?”

  I shrugged. It was a valid question, and he deserved all the answers. “I was in a car accident when I was a teenager. There was some internal bleeding and damage. They said I would never be able to carry a child.”

  He nodded and crossed
his arms, still not looking at me. “So when I said—”

  “You deserve an omega who can give you a family. You’re going to be a fantastic father. One day you’ll find him. And then you two can travel the world. It was just a date.” By the time I finished speaking, I didn’t know if I was trying harder to convince him or myself.

  “So there’s no chance?” he asked then bit down on his bottom lip.

  “No. I’m worthless in that regard.”

  “Just a date,” he murmured and then clapped for some goal.

  For the rest of the game, we sat next to each other in silence. I thought the night had been excruciating, but sitting next to him, knowing that if I was different, this would be my alpha, was torturous at best. My chest was constricted, my breaths shallow.

  Through halftime, I finished my coffee. Patrick never moved. I wished he would just get up and leave. No reason to extend the inevitable.

  Just leave already so I can mourn what could’ve been.

  The game took forever. Robbie’s team and the other tied, zero to zero and Robbie, I could tell by his slumped shoulders, was far from pleased. He tended to come down hard on himself for not winning or not completing a task.

  “I’m not in this for what you can give me, Damon. You’re not some breeder to me. I’m falling in love with you whether we can have children or not. Look at me, omega.” His voice was strong and commanding, but in a gentle way.

  “I can’t.” My damn voice broke, just when I needed to sound as resolute as I was most definitely not.

  “Yes, you can. Look at me.”

  It took a few seconds, but I finally was able to look up into his almost-black irises.

  “I can’t give you what you need.” I choked on my own hurt.

  “You already are. We can talk about family options later. But right now, I just want you. And you can say it over and over again, but we both know last night wasn’t just a date. Last night was the beginning of us.”

  I searched his face for an expression of deceit, but there was none.

  “Even though I can’t…”

  “I can’t let you go. I won’t. Now, go get your son.”

  I panicked, not wanting to leave him like this. His words had pierced a heart that I’d closed up last night, not willing to have it broken. “Come over for dinner tonight. My house.”

  I practically yelled it, and several moms and dads chuckled at me. I didn’t give a damn.

  “Dinner sounds great. And dry those tears, Damon. It breaks my heart to see you cry.” He wiped his thumb along my cheeks and under my eyes. “What’s your favorite flower?”

  “Irises,” I answered without hesitation.

  “Six is fine?” he asked like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t lost and gained love all in twenty-four hours.

  “Yes. Six is fine.”

  “See you then.” He kissed my temple twice and then walked down the stands to high-five Robbie then strolled out to the parking lot, that fine ass with just a little bit of sway that made me way too horny for a kids’ venue. Before getting into his car he winked at me, and I almost began to cry again.

  Then Robbie threw up all over the coach.

  Chapter Nine

  Patrick

  I can’t lie, when I dropped off Damon after what I had told myself was a stellar evening, I thought I’d done something terrible. Offended him in some unforgivable way. I drove home, parked in the driveway, and dragged into the house, running over every minute of the evening, everything I said, he said...hell, the couple of words Hal said to him, trying to find the evilness that ended what I’d already started to think of as our future together.

  Of course, that was dumb, I realized, sloshing bourbon over ice cubes in a short heavy glass and taking it with me into the den. I turned the TV on to catch the late news then turned it off, starting to run the evening again. I thought it went so great! We had a good dinner where we just chatted about our lives in general, and I learned how much he loved kids. He’d have to, to be a foster dad. He’d admitted to me that Robbie had wormed his way deeper into his heart than any kid before, but he had a dad who would be getting out of jail before too long and who had indicated he planned to file to get him back.

  He shared his fears and how much he loved photography. I told what I flattered myself were some funny anecdotes about my practice and the adorable kids I worked on. So dinner can’t have been the problem. He seemed glad to go to the Moonlight afterward.

  Was that where I’d done it? Maybe it was my voice. His was amazing and smooth as heavy silk. But I could carry a tune in a bucket. Nobody had moved away from me, and he’d seemed happy right up until we left.

  I tipped back my drink, at a complete loss.

  Closing my eyes, I could see Damon again, sprawled in casual sexiness over that big piano, singing “Africa.” Reminding me of dreams I’d put aside because traveling the world alone was just too sad to contemplate. And the kiss...sublime.

  I played over the trip home, from when we got in the car, until he suddenly stiffened and demanded to be taken home, shattered the building warmth and connection between us into shards as if he’d smashed it with an ax. Why? We were talking about fun future things. I knew better than to imagine a single date meant a lifetime, but something about him made me so sure he was the one intended for me. The half of my soul I’d been missing my whole life.

  And then I knew. That was the key. I had been alone so long that when a sexy, good-looking guy who was so kind he took in the children who had nobody else was nice to me, I thought he meant more. Humiliation settled over me. Robbie was gonna need a new dentist because I couldn’t face Damon again. He was having a nice time until I acted like we had a lifetime planned together on an evening he considered a casual date with a virtual stranger.

  Face flaming, I set the glass on the table by my chair and stood up, prepared to take a shower and try to wash away the evening. We were only open two Saturdays a month, so I didn’t even have work to distract me tomorrow. I’d just have to sit at home and beat myself up for stupidity, for thinking I saw more in those gorgeous eyes than was truly there. For thinking I’d found the man I’d been waiting for my whole life.

  Throat tight, shoulders drooping, I passed the kitchen when my phone buzzed on the counter. Who would be texting this late? Already in a really bad mood, I grabbed the device and looked at the screen.

  Then tried to breathe.

  ***

  I rang the bell at Damon’s apartment at six on the nose, a bunch of irises in hand, heart beating so hard I was sure he’d be able to hear it. But the face that met me when the door swept open was Robbie’s. He took one look at my offering and wrinkled his freckled nose. “Flowers? That all you got?”

  Then Damon came up behind him, wiping his hands on a kitchen towel. “Robbie, don’t be rude to our guest. How have I taught you to behave when we have company?”

  The little guy flashed him a look but parroted what he’d clearly been taught to say. “Welcome to our home. May I take your coat?”

  Since it was an unusually warm fall evening, I wasn’t actually wearing a coat, or jacket, so I glanced at Damon for direction, but he clapped a hand on Robbie’s shoulder and laughed. “We’re still working on the appropriate variations. I take it those are for me?”

  I held out the flowers and once he took them, I revealed what I held in my other hand. Robbie jumped up and down, accepted the candy bar, and tore off into another room, calling over his shoulder, “You sure are a funny dentist.”

  “After dinner, Robbie,” his foster dad called over him, and I chuckled, but Damon fixed me with a serious stare. “Looks like a dentist trying to drum up business to me,” he growled, and my levity faded until he chortled. “Gotcha.”

  “I almost feel like I should go out and come in again,” I said, stepping deeper into the unit and closing the door behind me.

  “Do that tomorrow,” he said, in a low voice and stepped into me, resting his palms on my chest.

>   “I may do that.” I bent and pressed my lips to his, savoring the sweetness that was my omega. We had a lot more to learn about each other, but at least we had solid ground to stand on. Our kiss deepened, lips moving, parting and tongues dancing while in the distance I could hear the sounds of a popular kids cartoon come to life. Finally, we parted and stepped back, smiling at each other. “I waited all day for that.”

  “Me, too,” he admitted, taking my hand. “Come into the kitchen with me while I finish making dinner. I hope you like chicken pot pie.”

  “I do. Very much.” I was glad to follow him. “Can I do anything to help?”

  “Not really. Just keep me company.” And I was delighted to fill that role.

  My omega was not only a great singer, he could handle a frozen pot pie with the best of them. I saw the box in the kitchen trash can, but I didn’t care. It was still a better dinner than I’d have made myself, and he sliced a loaf of French bread, spread it with butter and garlic, and topped it with mountains of grated cheese before sliding it into the oven, too. When it was golden and bubbling, he pulled a big bowl of salad from the fridge, set it on the small table dividing the kitchen and dining area, and called to Robbie.

  We ate as a family, and I realized how much I liked that. But genetics were only a part of the definition of a family. I wished very hard that we could adopt Robbie, but if his dad did pull it together, he should be able to be with him. No matter how it made me ache to see him with Damon and know how painful it would be for my omega when and if his temporary son left. If he couldn’t have kids, we’d adopt, or we could keep taking fosters, whatever he wanted. We didn’t need a traditional definition of family.

  We’d create our own.

  Whatever Damon wanted, I was good with it.

  Look at me making a family from a date and a half. I had it bad.

  Chapter Ten