A Bundle of Mannies

by Lorelei M. Hart

  “We should leave soon. Knowing Eric, he has a spy looking out to see if we found our seats yet.” He’d been so adorable making sure we got what he considered the best seats in the house.

  As soon as the sitter, a colleague from the school I taught at or had before my leave began a week ago, arrived, we drove the half hour to the theater. It turned out our community boasted one of the more prestigious theaters in the country, having been host to many a famous Broadway and Hollywood star back in the day—stars including our friend Marilyn who was coming to the premiere to surprise Eric.

  “The place is packed,” Kylos noted as we found our seats, a contraction running through me just powerful enough that I could no longer hide it, my face contorting in pain. “Graysen.” His stern voice said all it needed. I was busted.

  “Opening night,” was the entirety of my response when I could finally speak without the fear of a cry of pain accompanying it. I waddled the short distance to my seat. “Eric was right about these seats,” I bantered as Kylos gave me the look, the one he reserved for when he was choosing his words wisely and they just wouldn’t come.

  “Alpha, if I need anything...anything at all, I will tell you. I promise. Let’s make this night as special as it can be for our boy.” It was as close as I came to saying son, but that was how he felt to me, like my son. “I promise.”

  He didn’t like it but agreed just as the lights went dim and Marilyn stepped onto the stage to announce the production. Turned out our surprise for Eric had a surprise of their own. The crowd cheered as she introduced the show and told everyone he was one of her best finds in all her years of fostering young thespians and that she looked to see where he went next, hinting that she was making sure he got where his heart led him.

  Kylos’ confused expression likely mirrored mine. Our sweet friend was so much more than she appeared.

  The production was spectacular, far more professional than my expectations—at least the parts of it I was able to focus on, the contractions coming faster and faster and stronger and stronger. By the time they were taking their final bow, I could no longer contain the vocal expression of my pain, grateful the booming applause covered it up for all but those closest to us.

  “Time?” Kylos asked, the question a farce. He was taking me, and I was going oh so willingly.

  “Time.” I took his offered hand and squeezed it far too tightly as another contraction began, his wince of pain having me drop it. He was having none of that and picked it right back up.

  “We need to get Eric.” I wasn’t even sure how to make that happen with the added security and the insane amount of stage makeup he was probably trying to scrub from his face before he got a—gasp—pimple. He’d never gotten one, his skin far better than mine had been at that age, but he’d read it could happen and wasn’t willing to chance it. “How about I wait here?”

  Kylos didn’t love the idea but begrudgingly agreed and returned with Eric ten minutes later. While he was gone, I called the sitter who was more than happy to watch the kids for the night, and we dropped Eric off on the way to the hospital, my water breaking in the emergency room, where we had to enter to get to triage after hours.

  “See. Perfect timing.” I giggled for it was either laugh or die of embarrassment.

  “We will discuss timing later. How about we focus on having this baby now?” He signaled for a nurse who brought a wheelchair with a towel on it. Dying from embarrassment was a legit possibility.

  She took us up to triage where we filled out a ton of paperwork, having me question why exactly I had pre-registered. When I was settled into my labor and delivery room, my phone went off with the sitter’s number, the only one that wasn’t on mute, and I waddled to it to see an ominous text: Local News. Now.

  I grabbed the remote and had the television on just in time to see Marilyn being interviewed about her visit and how proud she was of the young man’s debut performance. She wasn’t the only one proud. Kylos stood beside me, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.

  “He’d never have had that if you hadn’t come into our lives.”

  I’d like to say I responded with some profoundly beautiful reply about how it was he who made all of our lives so amazing and how much his love shone through all he did. But instead of that, I screamed out in pain loud enough that the nurse came running in. She had me up on the bed and proclaimed it time to push, calling for a doctor over her phone in the calmest voice ever. Did she not realize I was about to push out a human? I needed the doctor stat.

  “Can’t push. Need my epidural.” The one they had promised in triage but somehow had never manifested.

  “You can have one next time. This baby isn’t waiting.”

  “Never again.” I screamed at the same time she commanded me to push and then reassured Kylos all omegas go through the never again phase and not to worry about it.

  Kylos, the strong alpha who stood by my side, holding my hand even through the death grip I maintained on his hand for the twenty minutes it took me to push out our perfect baby girl, the one who waited until Dr. Bob arrived from performing a C-section just in time to catch the baby. Although I was calling bullshit on that term. There was no catching, more like pulling. Not that any of that mattered. No, the only thing that did was the beautiful baby girl he placed upon my chest.

  And, of course, I got my high-five.

  “Salali,” I whispered as she squirmed to find my nipple and to take her first meal. It was amazing how innately they knew to do that.

  “Salali. I like it. What does it mean?” Kylos kissed the top of my head.

  “Squirrel.” I chuckled, thinking of the squirrel song and secret project Eric and I had been working on.

  “Perfect.” He kissed the top of her head. “Welcome to the world, little squirrel. You are so loved.”

  So very loved.

  Epilogue

  Graysen

  Court day. I’d been to court enough to know what to expect. Somehow, that didn’t ease my nerves. I needed everything to go right, and my history with courtrooms told me that was far from a guarantee.

  “You look stunning, omega mine.”

  Our daughter, Salali, rested in his arms.

  “I am the luckiest man alive.” He leaned over and kissed my cheek, Eric giving the obligatory ewww sound required from all middle school boys seeing their parents showing signs of affection. Or soon-to-be parents anyway.

  The door opened, and a bailiff stepped outside. “The judge is ready for you now.” He gave a sweet smile and held the door wide, Seth bolting through like it was his job. Adorable.

  We stepped inside and up to the desk, where the judge sat. We weren’t going in front of a room full of strangers, no, today would be in the judge’s chambers, and I couldn’t think of anything more perfect.

  “Gentleman, it looks like we have a lot of ground to cover today. Shall we make a start?”

  Eric snagged Seth as he scurried by and whispered in his ear something magical that worked, Seth settling beside him, holding his hand.

  “First things first.” The judge began to go through a bunch of paperwork. We’d seen it all the last time we’d been in his chambers when he offered us the crazy option of doing everything the same day. Turned out Judge Reynolds was a romantic at heart. It didn’t take us long to agree, the notion of a big wedding flying out the door so quickly.

  It had never been about the wedding day, not when my alpha proposed and certainly not when I accepted. No, this was about us vowing to spend the rest of our lives together, to join our families into one not only in spirit but also in the eyes of the law, to seal our lives together in a way just cohabitating never could. This was about our forevers.

  So, as Kylos began his vows, our children as our only witnesses other than court personnel, a joy I never knew possible began to flow through me.

  “I, Kylos Thermopolous, take you, Graysen Richards, to be my husband and omega, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, fo
r richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” He slipped the simple ring we’d selected onto my finger, and the judge looked to me with a nod.

  “I, Graysen Richards, take you, Kylos Thermopolous, to be my husband and alpha, to have and to hold from this day forward; for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, to love and to cherish, till death us do part.” I slipped the matching ring onto his hand as the judge pronounced us married.

  We kissed briefly.

  “And now for the good stuff.” Eric bounced on his heels. “Now I get my brother.”

  “Step forward, young men, and repeat after me.” The judge spoke with the utmost seriousness even though the words were not legally anything. No, it was the papers that would matter to the schools and the DMV. But no one would guess that, looking at the judge.

  This part of the day had been touch-and-go, Sam trying to change his mind last minute when one of the inmates convinced him he could get money out of us if he just held on longer. Which sadly might’ve been true if he hadn’t spilled his plan in front of our lawyer—on tape—the day he was set to sign the paperwork. The judge was not impressed.

  “Do you, Eric, accept Seth as your brother? Do you promise to love and protect him, stand by his side when he needs his big brother most, and to read to him Squirrel’s First Christmas as many times as he asks? If so, say, I do.”

  “I do.” He looked down at Seth, his face beaming with pride.

  “And you, Seth, do you want this guy as your brother?” The judge pointed to Eric, and Seth bounced his head enthusiastically.

  “Words, Seth. You need words,” Eric stage whispered.

  We’d spent a lot of time getting Seth back on track with his speech, and even though the judge had been understanding in his fake brother ceremony and not forcing Seth to talk, Eric took his brotherly duties seriously and pushed him to be all he could be.

  “Already my brother,” Seth said firmly.

  “I guess we know where you stand, little man. By the powers vested in me, I now pronounce you brothers.” Eric hugged Seth, and I did my best not to cry.

  When the judge added in the part about Squirrel’s First Christmas, the book Eric and I wrote together with permission from Ms. Tilly and based on her song, I just about lost it. When she heard why he had been singing so loudly, she became speechless for a full two minutes. She then walked over to her file cabinet and pulled out a file, handing it to me.

  “You are an illustrator, Mr. Richards, illustrate this.” A long conversation later and our plans for the book were fully formed, with the idea that all proceeds would go to Lynn’s Place, a program for grieving children. A small indie run turned into a local news story about the project, and next thing I knew I was the illustrator of a New York Times bestselling book, and Lynn’s Place was able to expand their programs to some more rural communities.

  “And now for the fun part.” The judge reached behind him and took out a stack of papers, which Kylos and I signed eagerly. By the time we left his office, not only were we married, but we were also the proud parent of three amazing children in not only our hearts but also by the laws of the land. Nothing could be better than that.

  “Ready for our cruise, family?” Kylos had asked the boys what they wanted to do to celebrate the day, thinking brunch or possibly a show in the city. When Eric insisted we needed another cruise, citing they were magical, neither of us could think of a reason to deny the request.

  “You have the best ideas, son.” I ruffled Eric’s hair the way he secretly loved despite his age.

  “I agree with your assessment.” He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tightly. “Shall we go, Dads?”

  Dad. Best. Word. Ever.

  “Cruise time.” Seth yanked at my hand.

  “We have our answer.” Kylos kissed sweet Salali on the head. “Time for your first family cruise, little lady. Prepare for some magic.”

  “And milkshakes. Lots and lots of milkshakes,” Eric promised her.

  “All the milkshakes.” I wrapped my arm around my husband and took in the wonder that was my family.

  Manny’s Mannies: Where parents find more than just childcare—they find everything.

  For Carter, an alpha professor of omega studies, life comes crumbling down when two officers show up at his work with horrible news and three young children in tow. His widowed brother Joey was killed in a car accident, leaving his kids orphans. Carter immediately agrees to take them in, quickly realizing he’s in way over his head. He needs help—he needs Manny’s Mannies.

  Omega Beckham was on track to become his family’s first lawyer—until his grandfather became ill and he dropped out to take care of him in his dying days. He took on a new, more feasible goal of becoming a nurse and started working as a TA. But then his employer gets arrested and he comes home to an eviction notice and discovers his roommate was stealing the rent money. Jobless and homeless, he needs a solution and fast—he needs Manny’s Mannies.

  When Carter opens the door to greet his new manny, he’s shocked to see his one-night stand from years earlier—the one he could never forget. If the kids didn’t immediately love Beckham, Carter might’ve asked for a replacement. Now he has to repress his longing for the manny he once spent a magical night with.

  If only it were that easy.

  The Professor’s Omega Manny

  By

  Lorelei M. Hart

  Prologue

  Professor Carter Bates

  “Whiskey, neat.” The bartender slid my drink at me. “Seven fifty.”

  I handed him a ten. “Keep the change.” Picking up the glass, I brought it to my nose, loving the woody aroma. It wasn’t good whiskey, not by a long shot, but Morty’s looked to be the best bar in town according to my tour guide...Google.

  And it wasn’t bad. It wouldn’t be my first choice, especially not in my hometown. I was a good ten years older than anyone in the place and closer to twenty years older than most. Back home, that was a recipe for disaster. Professors did not mingle where their students did. It just wasn’t done.

  But, during a nice weekend on the lake, age was just a number, and my job no longer a cock blocker.

  I took a small sip, the flavor far better than I’d thought it would be, given their top-shelf options were far from top shelf, and turned to casually lean against the bar, taking in the scenery. Darts in one corner, pool in another, and a jukebox on the far side with a few people dancing. For a Wednesday there were a lot of people, but Wednesday was omega night so that made sense.

  “Excuse me, pops.” An alpha no older than twenty-three tried to work his way behind me. Asshat.

  “I prefer to call him Daddy.” An omega leaned in and kissed my cheek gently. Had it not been for the distraction of his nutmeg and cardamom scent, I’d probably have had a reaction...any reaction.

  “Then hurry along and get out of my way before the sitter calls.” The asshat of an alpha tried once again to push me out of the way, only this time it was both of us, the omega leaning into me. I was missing something. A lot of somethings.

  “Not that kind of a daddy,” the omega said.

  The alpha took a tiny step back. “That’s gross, Beckham.” He scrunched his nose as he barked out his beer order to the bartender who paid him zero mind.

  “I disagree.” The omega, who I now knew to be Beckham intertwined his fingers with mine. “I got us a table, Daddy.”

  Oh, my cock liked that. Far too much. I was not into daddy kink. But I had a feeling this omega could persuade me to rethink that. We wound through the bar to a booth near the back.

  “This is me. Thanks for help with Hans. He’s kind of an ass.” The kid wasn’t lying. No, not a kid. He was in a bar; that made him at least twenty-one, and I was a good two hours’ drive from work.

  “Ex?” I conjectured, taking a seat, loving the way his eyes opened wide at my action. “Are you joining me—boy.” Yeah, no, the daddy thing was
not for me. And from the way his lips swished to the left slightly at the word, he didn’t do that, either. He slid in beside me anyway. Not across from me—beside me. It was going to be a good night.

  “Sorry about the daddy thing.” He reached for a tumbler of clear liquid, likely water, and I yanked it from his reach. Maybe the kid really did need his daddy. “Why did you do that?”

  “This was sitting here for how long?” Omegas needed to be careful. It was nice to think we were a society with equality, and there were some alphas out there who insisted we did. There were also those who insisted they were the ones persecuted. Both opinions were wrong.

  As an alpha, I didn’t worry about my safety the way an omega with any sense of self-preservation should. This Beckham didn’t seem to have that self-preservation.

  “Shit. I didn’t think of that.” At least he conceded quickly enough. “It’d be nice to live in a world where I didn’t have to deal with shit like that.”

  “And like your ex.” He hadn’t answered, and for some reason the answer was very important to me.

  “Like the alphahole who thinks I should get on my knees for him because he is an alpha.” He leaned back, letting out a small puff of air.

  “Glad you are not one of those omegas who lets themselves be pigeonholed into a role. Want to go next door and grab dinner instead of sitting here with that mini-alpha staring us down.”

  Mini-alpha was a word I used in my PhD thesis to describe alphas with small lower regions who overcompensated by being asses. I’d put it in there until I could decide on better terminology, and my advisor suggested I leave it. Turned out that was one of the things that impressed the committee, so he’d been right.

  “I heard that term in my omega studies class, and it is so fitting.” He glanced at the alpha and shook his head.

  It took all my restraint to not puff out my chest as he unknowingly complimented my textbook. Quite a few universities had picked it up, which worked well for me since my job was hardly well-paying. I enjoyed the extra bit of income, especially since it was attached to the education of our next generation.