Under Siege: A Contemporary Mpreg Romance Bundle (Omega's Under Siege)

by Aiden Bates

  “…And Marcos—who had no idea who I was or who Benny was—said ‘Mrs. Green, I think it was the Wonder Twins!’” Mitch said, slapping his hand on the table and laughing as he finished a story I didn’t at all remember from high school.

  “Ay Dios, Mitch!” Mami cried, wiping away tears of laughter. “Oh, Mitch. That’s a good one. I had no idea you knew so many stories about my boys. I can’t believe we haven’t met before. Oh, goodness,” she said with a happy sigh.

  “Well…” Mitch said, side-eyeing me meaningfully. “Like I said, I’ve definitely been wanting to meet you this entire time, but it seemed like with the big news, Marcos had no choice but to finally introduce us. Isn’t that right, Marcos?”

  “Big news?” Mami asked, her eyes widening with a kind of nervous energy. “What big news, Marcos?”

  Mitch grabbed my hand where it rested on the table and smiled sweetly up at me. I swallowed hard, understanding from his smile that this was it.

  “Mami,” I said, as I tried to talk around what felt like a lump in my throat. I nodded toward Mitch before I forced myself to go ahead. “Mami. Mitch is… Well… Mitch and I, we’re… I mean…”

  “Expecting!” Mitch said, helpfully.

  Mami gasped and put her hands to her mouth, leaving only two wide, brown eyes as the only parts of her face visible. Mitch nodded excitedly at her like he was saying, “I know! Crazy, right?”

  And, once again, for the rest of the conversation, I was completely forgotten. Mami got up and pulled her chair closer to Mitch’s side of the table and insisted on holding his hands as she chattered at him. The conversation shifted to due dates, doctor visits, planned names for boys, planned names for girls, and random signs that supposedly meant Mitch was carrying an alpha.

  “You’re glowing! Alphas make you glow! Everyone knows that, and it’s never once failed in my family. Just watch, it’s going to be an alpha!” Mami said, patting his hands excitedly through happy tears.

  “My grandmother used to say the same thing!” Mitch answered, sniffling through happy tears himself. “That’s why I’ve been thinking… Well, we’ve been thinking… Marcos and I have been thinking… Would you be alright with us naming him—if it is a “him,” anyway—Pedro?”

  Mami gasped again and touched her hand to her chest over her heart. Despite how serious I was trying to be in front of Mami, my mouth fell open in surprise. Mitch turned and smiled at me. Like the shift I saw in my mother earlier, there seemed to be a shift in Mitch’s expression, too. The other easy smiles he’d been giving Mami the whole time had seemed superficial, fake. This one felt real. Either he was an amazing actor, or he was genuinely thinking of something that warmed him on the inside.

  Maybe both.

  Whatever it was, in that second, I wasn’t just helping him start a family for his and his fiancé’s sake in exchange for my brother’s sake. For a second, I was genuinely serious with Mitch, and I was genuinely breaking the news to Mami about the baby who Mitch and I were going to have. The baby who Mitch was suggesting naming after my brother. My baby. My baby with Mitch.

  But there wasn’t a baby with Mitch, at least not yet. Mitch really was just acting. Right? I wasn’t anything to Mitch. He was Oliver’s. That was very clear. It was clear they were crazy for each other. I wasn’t anything to Mitch. I wasn’t anything to Oliver. The only person I really had was Pedro, and this was all about Pedro and, god, why was it so hard to keep all of this focused on Pedro when I was around Mitch and Oliver?

  Maybe it was the sex. It was truly mind-blowing how hot they were together, how they made me feel when I was with them. Maybe it was just that they were so nice to me, so openly affectionate. Maybe it was because one tiny slice of me truly wanted my time with them to be more.

  I made myself close my mouth, and I shook my head to clear out the clutter.

  This was the big moment that everything had been leading up to, and this was Mitch, doing an amazing job of setting it up.

  Now or never, Acosta. Shoot your shot.

  “Si, Mami. We want him to be called Pedro. And since he might be named after him, we were hoping he would get to meet Pedro, too.”

  Mami wrinkled her forehead in confusion, clearly not understanding how this baby was supposed to meet Pedro. Some of the old suspicion from the beginning of lunch started creeping back into her expression, and I practically felt my chance slipping from my hands.

  “Mami, listen, we want the baby to meet his uncle, to get the chance to see who he’s named after, or at least who he’s related to. Mami, please. Reconsider what you said. At least until the baby is born, please. If there’s any chance the baby might be able to—”

  I was babbling and becoming less and less convinced of what I was saying. Of course this wasn’t going to work. It was never going to work. Even if Pedro was still alive in nine months, if he was in the same condition he was in now, how could that possibly count as letting the baby meet his or her uncle?

  Mami’s expression was quickly shifting from skepticism to annoyance. She pursed her lips like she did when she knew you were doing something you weren’t supposed to. I wasn’t making any sense. The whole thing had been for nothing. I was going to have to keep my promise to Mitch and Oliver, but I had no idea how I could keep helping them start a family while in the middle of losing mine.

  I was going to lose him. He was going to die. I had just completely blown Pedro’s only hope of—

  “Mrs. Acosta. Doña Alverita… Actually, now we’re going to be family, I’m just going to say it: Mami.”

  Mami looked a little shocked and arched an eyebrow but seemed to allow it as Mitch took her hand in his again.

  “I’m not going to pretend I understand what you’re going through. I can’t imagine what it must be like to have to wake up every day and to see your son in that state. And I mean both of your sons because I know you’re just as worried about one as you are about the other.”

  Mami nodded, already softening in response to Mitch’s statement.

  “I don’t think you’d make any decision you didn’t feel was in their best interests. And I think I understand why the decision you’re making really is the best for both of your children. I believe I’m already starting to understand that part of it because I know I would do anything for my child.”

  I wanted to protest what Mitch was saying. It was dangerous to make Mami feel her decision to take Pedro off life support was the right thing to do. However, by this point, it was becoming easier and easier to trust Mitch to know exactly what he was doing.

  “I was planning to go back to school, take things slow, do a lot of other stuff… But it looks like I’m not going to get to decide on the where, the when and the how. It looks like this baby decided for us. And that’s what makes me think there’s something important about this timing, something significant. Maybe god wants to give Marcos a chance to say hello to someone just as he’s getting ready to say goodbye. Maybe this is meant to be as good a reason for Marcos to leave the hospital. Maybe, just maybe, this somehow means that god is gearing up for a miracle. A second miracle, that is.”

  Mami’s face was blank for a moment as she slowly turned to look at me, turned back to Mitch, and then to me again. All of a sudden, Mami’s expression broke, and as much as she tried to staunch the flow, tears started rolling down her cheeks. Mitch rubbed at her back comfortingly as she sobbed. I wasn’t sure whether to read any of that as sadness for Pedro, disappointment in me for asking this way or what, exactly. But, after long minutes of silence that was only interrupted by Mami’s quiet gasps and sniffles, she started nodding.

  “Okay,” she said simply as she wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand. “Okay. Esta bien.”

  “What’s okay, Mami?” I asked quickly.

  “We can…postpone…things,” Mami said, raising her eyes to mine to make sure I understood. “Just to give the baby a chance to meet him, like you said.”

  I slumped back in my chair, as relieved as I wa
s amazed this had worked. It had actually fucking worked. I put my hand up to hold my head, still trying to understand that—thanks to Mitch, obviously—things were actually going to be okay all of a sudden. I was almost too overwhelmed to pay too much attention when Mami started heading off on a different track.

  “Anyway, we’ll have the wedding to plan, of course!”

  “Of course!” Mitch agreed eagerly before I could blurt out that nobody was getting married. He must have known I wouldn’t have thought Mami would start talking about wedding plans. As smoothly as ever he cut her off at the path.

  “Though you’ll forgive me for wanting to wait until after, you know. It may be vain of me, but I’d like to fit into a nice suit, and the baby was a bit of a surprise after all.”

  “Hm,” Mami said, clearly not in full agreement but too happy and too emotional to be contrary. “Well, fine. But when you do get married it’s traditional to…”

  I didn’t follow anymore. I was still trying to convince myself that this was happening.

  Mami eventually settled back down and finished lunch. When it was time for her to go, she threw her arms out to Mitch. Mitch almost picked her up into a big hug as they thanked each other over and over again. As he held her, Mitch thanked Mami for reconsidering her decision and for accepting us, and as she held him, Mami thanked Mitch for making her reconsider and for joining the family. Then, Mami hugged me, I hugged Mami, we said our goodbyes and she left.

  Without thinking, I pulled Mitch onto his tiptoes and into an enormous bear hug. We’d all said thank you to each other, but the gratitude I felt now was more real, more desperate.

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” I repeated like I was praying, and before I knew it I was repeating the words against his mouth before pressing my lips into his for a long, hard kiss.

  The kiss felt like an expression of all the tension and worry I’d been carrying with me for all of these years. When we eventually pulled back to breathe, we were looking at each other with wide, wild eyes.

  “Oh, wow…” Mitch said, stunned and a little flushed. “Okay.” He smiled in what I figured was genuine embarrassment.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t know what that was,” I said, apologizing quickly. “I don’t know what came over me. I was just so…”

  “No, no, it’s fine.” Mitch waved my apology off. “No, I get it. It worked. We won. You won, so to speak. It makes total sense. Actually, I was going to suggest that, seeing as we really did pull off a minor miracle just now, maybe you wanted to come over later for dinner and…celebrate?”

  “Sure!” I said, still sort of stunned. “Sure, man. Anything you say. This is all because of you. I don’t know how to express my gratitude.”

  “Don’t mention it. Besides, now that your mami has pulled out the “wedding” card, we should probably figure out what we’re going to do about it, so it won’t be all fun and games. I’ll see you later, yeah?” Mitch squeezed my arm affectionately as his own version of a goodbye.

  In all the commotion and all the talking, I’d completely left my food untouched. I sat back down at the table and forced myself to eat, more out of obligation than real hunger, and all the while I thought back to that kiss. I had to wonder why my first reaction to learning that Mami had bought our story had been to kiss Mitch as hard as I’d ever kissed anyone. It was confusing.

  There was plenty of reasons to be happy. Even if Mitch wasn’t pregnant now, with any luck, he would be soon. Mitch and Oliver would then get what they wanted. I’d already gotten what I wanted. There was every reason in the world to be happy. Right?

  So, why did I feel so guilty? Was I just that used to being in a slump, constantly grieving Pedro, whenever I wasn’t with him? Why did I feel like being so happy was a slap in the face to my brother even when he was the whole reason I was happy in the first place?

  Maybe it was because most of what had gotten us here wasn’t real. At least for now, the baby wasn’t real. The wedding we were all supposed to start planning wasn’t ever going to be real, and the welcome to the family that Mami had extended to Mitch wasn’t real, either.

  Yeah, that’s what it was. That’s what felt weird. None of this was real, and this relationship I was living right now wasn’t really mine. It was all just made-up, and any weird, confused feelings were just because I wasn’t as good at lying as Mitch.

  Right?

  11

  Mitch

  I was busying myself with cooking the spaghetti sauce and very much not thinking about Marcos.

  I’d spent more time carefully cutting up the onions and garlic and herbs than I could ever remember, and I was definitely not thinking about the way his firm lips felt against mine.

  I watched it simmer and occupied myself with cleaning all the bowls and knives I’d prepped with and was certainly not thinking about Marcos’s heady scent all around me, smelling like deep woods and sunshine.

  That was what I was doing. Making dinner and not thinking. I was making enough for three and trying to tell myself all of this was temporary, and possibly just hormonal.

  I was interrupted from my very careful not thinking when my phone rang. Figuring it was Oliver on his way home or even Marcos, I wiped my hands and peeked down at the screen.

  Oh shit. Not Marcos, not Oliver.

  No. Rob Motherfucking Callahan.

  I felt my blood run cold.

  I threw the phone onto the counter like it burned me and watched as it continued to vibrate against the granite of the countertop. No way in hell I was taking that call. I watched, frozen, as it rang and rang, and then eventually went still again. I hadn’t made contact with him since that day at the restaurant, and I had no idea what he could possibly want from me. Getting out was shaping up to be the best decision of my life. Still, it was strange on the outside of the agency, of the escort business. To my knowledge, none of Rob’s omegas who got out ever stayed out. Whatever it was he wanted with me, it couldn’t be good.

  My mind was still racing when I heard the garage door shut and Oliver’s key scraping at the door. I heard the thump of him setting his bags down, and a moment later I felt familiar arms wrap around my waist, and his chin nestling into my shoulder.

  “Mmm, smells good.” Oliver’s voice rumbled through my back and I leaned just a little into his embrace.

  “The food or my neck?”

  “Either, both. I could get used to this.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yeah. Coming home to a meal and a beautiful man? Sounds pretty perfect to me,” he said, teasing.

  “Well, it’s the least I could do. Besides, I was too keyed up from the lunch today to sit still.” And, now, from the notification sitting there unopened on my phone.

  “And how was lunch with abuela?”

  “I’d say it went pretty well.” I filled him in on Alverita’s initial reluctance and how I’d gradually won her over. Oliver nodded along, and something in him relaxed a little. He seemed happy that Marcos was getting what he’d hoped for out of this arrangement. Oliver sat down at the table, and then noticed there were three table settings.

  “Oh, is Marcos coming over, too?”

  “Mm-hmm. I thought we could celebrate.”

  “Ah, so the real reason for your spaghetti sauce comes out. You trying to impress somebody?” Oliver’s tone was still light and joking. It was a marvel to me how very open and trusting he was with all of this.

  Making a baby with an alpha was one thing. Having lunch with the alpha’s mother…

  I shrugged and winked at him coyly from over my shoulder. “Might do, sweetheart. Think it’ll work?”

  “With you still smelling like post-heat? I’d say he’d have to be an idiot otherwise.”

  “Good. I have to admit I do have an ulterior motive.”

  “Oh?” Oliver asked, his smirk going just a little naughty.

  “No! Well, I mean, I wouldn’t be opposed, but no. We need to talk about what happens next.”

  “That sounds a
whole lot more boring than what I was imagining,” Oliver added.

  “Hush, you. We need to talk because, well, it seems that Alverita wants to help Marcos and me plan our wedding.” Oliver went still and made no noise at all. “Yeah. Hence, we need to talk.”

  Oliver was still quiet, and I could tell from all the months we’d been together that he was still taking time to process this new development. I busied myself with chopping up veggies for a salad while I watched him percolate. Eventually, he leaned back and scrubbed his face.

  “I don’t know, babe. I have to admit I’m not entirely sure how I feel about that. It feels like a step too far, you know?”

  I could certainly understand that. As my actual fiancé, I really empathized about why he’d feel all sorts of uncomfortable about it, but we were already so far in. At this point I was potentially carrying Marcos’s baby, which we’d agreed to create so Marcos could also delay and hopefully prevent the death of his brother. It seemed like an arbitrary place to draw a line.

  “Well, I mean, all of this is a step too far, frankly, but in for a penny, in for a Benjamin, right?” I asked.

  Oliver still seemed to be weighing options. “I suppose… Can I ask you something?”

  “Always,” I responded.

  “And, you’d tell me honestly?”

  “Always,” I said again.

  “What do you think of Marcos? I mean, I know what you’ve said, but I mean, as a person?”

  I opened my mouth, fully ready to give Oliver the full rundown of all the things I definitely, certainly, positively hadn’t been thinking about at all. I never lied to Oliver and I certainly wasn’t starting now.