A Bundle of Mannies

by Lorelei M. Hart

  “Do you think?” Beck asked once she was gone. “The same Ivan?”

  “I do.”

  “Then we most certainly picked the perfect name.”

  “For the most perfect baby birth by the most perfect omega on the most perfect day.” I kissed Beck’s forehead and then Salvatore’s head. “You are so loved and wanted, little one. So loved and wanted.”

  Epilogue

  Beck

  A blowout—today of all days.

  “Eeew, it looks like his butt puked everywhere.” Chelsea was okay with being a big sister when Sal was asleep, but other than that, not so much. He spit up too much and pooped too much for her.

  “I’ll get him in the bath. It’s way simpler,” Carter said as I chucked the diaper into the no-smell pail and stealthily picked up the onesie and pants and brought them downstairs to chuck them into the washing machine. Nasty stuff came out of our beautiful babe.

  Carter had taken to being a new dad like he was born for it. I went back upstairs to find him entertaining our oldest three while simultaneously bathing our newest babe from his explosion.

  “You go get dressed,” he said to me but used his baby voice and looked at Sal.

  “I have a few more minutes.”

  “No.” He turned to me with one hand over Sal’s chest. “You don’t.” He glanced at the clock on the wall in the bathroom and I realized with a gasp how right he was.

  “Holy Moses!” I yelled and heard the kids laughing as I rushed into the bedroom and pulled on my new outfit. My post-baby body had not sprung back the way I’d wanted it to but Carter seemed to like it.

  Tugging on the pants and new button-up shirt after brushing my teeth and making my hair behave, I was ready.

  “Okay.” I began ticking things off my list. “We have the cake and all the food prepped. Frank said he’s bringing a sandwich tray and something adult-beveragy. What else can we do?”

  Outside, everything was set. Carter and I had gotten up early to hang the streamers and place extra chairs outside.

  “Nothing, husband. You need to calm down. Everyone is coming here to celebrate. We have a big day ahead of us.”

  I laughed as he kissed me hard while carrying Sal. “I can’t believe we are getting married today—and here in the home we finally found each other. What a wonderful mess. And you,” I spoke now to our babe. “Are also a wonderful mess.”

  Carter chuckled. “Whatever you ate last night did not agree with him.”

  I was still nursing a plump babe, so whatever I ate went straight to him. “Enchiladas not your thing, huh, little one?”

  Sal did a raspberry with his mouth. Yep, he agreed.

  “Everything is great,” Carter said and it seemed like he was talking more to himself than me. “Look at our life, omega mine.”

  The kids were at the table, coloring mostly but also picking at some apple slices with peanut butter dip. Chelsea and Jase were holding hands which quickly turned into a toddler arm wrestling match.

  These were our kids and this was our family—our hectic and growing by the second family.

  And I loved every second of it.

  “I love this family,” I whispered to Carter and kissed his cheek.

  He agreed with a hmm and then pulled away. “I have something to tell you.”

  “What?” I replied, still in my family dreamland.

  “I invited your parents today. When I called them to explain, they went from icy cold to mushy in seconds. Something about telling them they had not only one but four grandkids now, and they were putty in my hands.”

  My knee-jerk reaction was to be pissed. My parents hadn’t been the best, and forgiveness for the way they abandoned my grandfather hadn’t yet been given. “What did they say?”

  Carter winked at me. “I’ll let them tell you.”

  An hour later, we stood in front of our family and friends, family I thought would no longer be a part of my life after years of treating me like a stranger, we gave our vows. Not a dry eye was there to be seen, not even my parents. We still had a long way to go, but them showing up was a huge step. My mate, my now husband, had known exactly what I needed and he provided it for me just the way I tried to do for him.

  We kissed. We danced. We celebrated and we were spoiled rotten by housewarming gifts, wedding gifts, gifts for the kids, and everything in between. Sal would have enough clothes until he entered middle school.

  “Beck?” A familiar voice made me turn around as I cradled Sal’s head in my hand. I turned to see my parents looking quite uncomfortable.

  “Hey, Mom, Dad. Glad you could come.”

  That took some gumption, for sure.

  “He’s beautiful,” my mom said with a tear in her eye. “May I?”

  “Sure.” I handed over my son who thought my mom’s glasses were quite entertaining. “How are you both?”

  They exchanged a glance. “We are okay. We—we wanted to apologize to you, Beck. We should’ve been more supportive and the way you cared for your grandfather. That was our responsibility and we failed you and him. Can you ever forgive us?”

  I completely deflated. I’d been ready to butt heads with them but it all ended in a heartbeat.

  “I forgive you. Are you ready to meet your other grandchildren? They’re around here somewhere.” Just then, Carter showed up with Chelsea in his hands. “This is Carter, my husband.”

  The words still warmed me.

  My husband.

  My family.

  This life of ours.

  “Carter, thank you for inviting us. And this is Chelsea, right?” Carter nodded and Chelsea offered my dad a piece of cheese from her plate. You had to be special for Chelsea to share her cheese.

  They walked away with my son in their arms and Carter with them, trying to find Jase and Hannah.

  “I yuv you, Dunk.” Chelsea sealed the sentiment with a sloppy kiss on my cheek.

  “I yuv you back, little one.”

  My life with Carter was complete.

  Life Lesson: Groupies are not the best choice of a mate.

  Alpha Judson loves music. Unfortunately, he can’t carry a tune in a bucket. He can, however, run a sound system like a boss and soon finds himself touring the world with some of the biggest bands. He is living the dream: great music, a good living, and wonderful twin boys. His mate is...less wonderful, leaving him with his twins when she figures out Judson is not the staircase to her own freedom.

  Life Lesson: Not everything you hear about concert tours is true—just the good parts.

  Omega Edwin needs a job and now. When he is offered a job caring for two kids whose father tours with the biggest band on the billboard charts, his gut reaction is to decline. They are alcohol-and-drug-filled month-long parties, or so the rumor goes, and the one thing Edwin doesn’t need is to be around a bunch of drunks. He had enough of that growing up and in his career as an exotic dancer.

  Life Lesson: Always get it in print.

  Traveling across the world and caring for two of the most creative children turns out to be one of the most challenging things Judson has ever done. The most challenging part is keeping his hands, lips, teeth, and other parts away from his sexy boss, Judson. It would be far easier too if his boss didn’t flirt back.

  Iliana, the kids’ mother, comes around making noise about wanting the kids, and all semblance of normal—normal for a concert tour anyway—flies out the window. Threats are made, lawsuits are filed, and things get ugly quickly. Edwin refuses to leave Judson’s side, determined to help him keep his family and possibly make one of his own.

  Saved by the Manny

  By

  Lorelei M. Hart

  Prologue

  Judson

  “All right, boys, let’s get you home.” I rubbed their two little backs as they slept on the couch. Neither of them budged. Poor guys were sound asleep.

  I’d been greeted at my mom’s doorway with a frazzled look, the one she saved for when I got home late. She hated
me working the local university theater as much as I did, but bills needed paying, and they paid well now that they had so many big traveling shows coming through from New York.

  “I don’t understand why Iliana can’t mom-up and parent her children,” my mother began and I shut her down with my you better not do this now look, the one I’d perfected since my mate had left just over a year ago. I didn’t mind my mother venting. Heck, sometimes I wanted to vent right alongside, but never when the boys might hear. Iliana might be a shitty mom and an even shittier mate, but she was their mom, and that deserved some respect—or at least not to be trashed.

  “Thank you for watching them again. Only two more days of this run,” I promised, actively not reminding her that the next big musical extravaganza came in three days for a three-week run. There had to be a better way to manage all this, I just hadn’t found one yet.

  “I’d do anything for my grandbabies, you know this.” What I knew was that she would do anything as long as it was at her house and could include allowing the seven-year-old twins to watch all the television they wanted intermixed with video games. Far from ideal, but given the past three sitters quit due to the irregular hours, or so they purported, my mom was pretty much my last resort until I found something with better hours.

  “I appreciate it, Mom. I did apply to teach a couple of courses at the college.” I only had my bachelor’s and while that was plenty for the certificate classes I’d applied for, they preferred instructors with a master’s or higher, so I wasn’t holding my breath.

  “I know you are doing the best you can.” She sighed and pointed to Bowie, who was stirring.

  “Hey, little man, you ready to go home?” I continued to rub his brother’s back in an attempt to wake him up without his normal growls. The kid could embrace his inner monster, I’d give him that.

  “Tired.”

  “I know. We’ll get you home. No school tomorrow.” Thank goodness. Getting them up in the morning after such a late production the night before had not been ideal.

  “Just pick him up.” My mom sighed in exacerbation at Jagger’s inability to wake up upon request.

  “Fine.” I scooped him up, and the three of us left my mom to her grumpiness.

  I had them home and settled into bed quickly, not bothering to change their clothing. They were beat, and by all rights they should be. It was nearing midnight, the time they finally hit their pillows for far too many days in a row. Something had to give.

  When I’d taken the job, it sounded great. I could make a stable home for the kids, no longer traveling across the country with the biggest names in music. The kids loved it, especially since we moved into the apartment just as they began school. Iliana did not love it.

  She loved life on the road and, come to find out, being on the road was the only reason she tied herself to me in the first place, accidentally forgetting her birth control at the same time we decided to be exclusive and not use condoms anymore. What a fool I’d been to think anything we had was about me.

  I’d never change it, though. It brought me my wonderful boys. I just had to figure out how to be a strong enough alpha to be everything they needed now that their mom had run off, citing her need to have wings and not be nailed to a normal life.

  I came to find out later that normal meant not having daily access to the rich and famous and having only one man in her bed—or the plethora of places she’d cheated on me. I’d been so blind.

  I found my way back to the living room to the sleep sofa that doubled as my bed. I probably could afford a better place now that I’d paid off the debt Iliana had built behind my back, but if the teaching came through, it would mean a pay cut, so I didn’t want to chance it just yet.

  My phone buzzed in my pocket for the twentieth time that day. Each time, I ignored it. My life on the road was over, and the very last person I wanted to talk to was Gordon, the man who’d managed the bands I worked with for years as he simultaneously fucked Iliana. I should just block the bastard. So I went to do just that, only this time it wasn’t Gordon, it was Simon, just Simon, the lead singer for one of the best-selling bands of all time who were days away from launching their new world tour. You couldn’t listen to the radio or pass a magazine stand without seeing them. I was happy for them. I’d been their sound guy when they were the third opening band of a crappy reunion tour for a band that should’ve stopped singing decades earlier, and they were great guys and at one time friends of mine.

  “Simon, it’s after midnight. Please start with everything is fine.” If anything happened to any of the guys, it would gut me. I might not have seen them since they shot up the charts and got their own tours, but that didn’t make them less important in my heart.

  “Sorry. I didn’t realize. It’s only ten here.” Because that was a better time to call a dad with young kids. “Everything is fine—with the guys anyway. But we need you.”

  “How? If it’s a tour, those days are done. Iliana is gone, so I can’t even if I wanted to. I have the boys to think of.”

  “Gone dead gone, or you kicked her ass out the door like I told you to do the day you met her?” He had, too. He’d said she was a groupie looking to get in close to the talent. He’d not been wrong even if his tact was nonexistent.

  “She left a year ago. Needed wings. It’s for the best.” It really was. Even if it sucked when she first left.

  “Fuck yeah, it is.” Simon’s inability to hold back his feelings was one of the things I loved about him—usually. “So, if she’s not holding you down, you have no excuse. We need you on this tour. The guy the label tried to stick us with sucks monkey butt. We sound like shit. We need you.” Ahhh, so this was a job offer. After midnight. Because rock and roll.

  “I have the boys.” And they came first. Always.

  “Bring them.” Because it was just that simple.

  “And what, let them live the rock and roll lifestyle? No thanks.” Simon and his crew had never been into the groupies and the drugs, their focus exclusively on getting better and being more successful. That didn’t mean things hadn’t changed or that the opening bands weren’t into that crap.

  “Freddie brings his kids, and he has a nanny and a tutor for the schooly bits.” Maybe things had changed. I hadn’t even known he’d had kids.

  “Freddy makes bank. He can afford that shit.” Truth bomb.

  “Gordon says you are ignoring his calls.” I glanced at my phone and swiped my missed calls. Thirteen. There were thirteen missed calls from him.

  “True statement.” I half chuckled.

  “I told him we would have to cancel the first leg if we didn’t have you. He’s a bit antsy.” Because he knew I’d tell him to fuck off and, if he lost this tour, he was going to have his boss tell him the same thing.

  “Probably should have thought of that before he shtupped my ex.” And for a while, I half wondered if my boys were his, and that was a feeling I’d never wish on anyone. Falling in love so deeply with the little humans then to be told that they might not even be your blood was by far the most gut-wrenching thing I’d been through.

  “He is willing to give you anything.”

  “Define anything?” Because I had some creative ideas.

  “Will you do it for 50 percent above your normal salary and an exclusive-to-you manny and a shared tutor?” My normal salary was three times what the university was paying, and tutors might be able to help Jagger catch up on his reading.

  “How long is the tour?”

  “That’s the Judson I know and love.”

  Chapter One

  Edwin Black

  I stared at the stick as if it might change. As if two lines might become one. But it hadn’t worked on the last five so it wasn’t going to magically correct itself to read as I wished it would. I never went home with customers, never took chances because exotic dancers were always at risk. Just the previous month, one of my former coworkers wound up on the banks of a canal, strangled.

  But one particu
lar alpha had found me outside a cafe on a day when I was feeling particularly lonely, and we got to talking. He seemed interested in me as a person and not as a flexible body that they all seemed to feel would give them a better time than the average omega.

  This guy, Joel he said his name was, never even indicated he knew I was a dancer as we chatted over coffee and pastries for hours and finally ended up in my studio apartment doing the dance of the beast with two backs. It was casual, friendly, and generally served to improve my mood. He stayed for most of the night, and when he rose to leave, I was ready to suggest another date when he did it.

  He laughed, a harsh and unfunny chuckle. “I always heard you strippers were hot in bed, but you weren’t any better than any other whorish omega I could pick up off the street.” And then he was gone. I was angry and upset but tried to see it as a lesson. Alphas sucked, they used omegas and tossed them aside, and they were only after one thing.

  In not too many more weeks, my sleek toned body would be stretched out of shape and that would no longer be an issue. How could I have not realized sooner? I’d had so many of the symptoms. Nausea, moodiness, and bloating. Which made my costumes, the ones I started the shows in at least, fit oddly.

  The boss had taken me aside tonight after the show and pointed to my belly. “I can’t have a headliner with a beer belly,” he said. “Tone that mother up. Unless there’s something you want to tell me?”

  “Like what?” I’d blurted. “Like I ate a donut once and this is the result. Geez, Harv. I thought they all liked me for my dance skills.” Which of course was bullshit. Sure, I had skills. I’d been dancing since I was five, but in our neighborhood the opportunities for a dancer were none. When I went to auditions for “legitimate” shows, everyone there was the product of some academy or other, not parks and rec dance classes and the occasional private lesson when I could scare up the money.