Reclaiming His Omega_M/M Non-Shifter Alpha/Omega MPREG

by Harper B. Cole

  “I actually haven’t been here in a bit. Probably… about a month?”

  “Too busy?” I asked.

  “Something like that.”

  It was nothing like that, I could tell. But Miles clearly didn’t want to discuss whatever had kept him from the possibility of coconut cream pie. My throat itched to ask him about it, but I coughed it away. It wasn’t my place.

  The waitress swung by again. “Ready for that second piece, Mo?”

  “Not quite yet, Sharon. But I’ll take a refill.”

  She topped off both our mugs.

  “Mo?” I asked.

  He blushed. “Because I always want some ‘mo.’ My dad brought me here every week when I was a kid. He stopped…” Miles cleared his throat. “I guess he thought I was too old or he was too good for this little diner anymore.”

  From what Miles had told me about his parents, I could fill in what Miles hadn’t said. His dad stopped bringing him when they found out he was an omega instead of an alpha or a beta. Miles never said anything negative about his parents—frustrated, sure, like any kid—but sometimes my blood had just boiled thinking about how bound up they were in their expectations of Miles as an omega. They didn’t realize how much damage they did by trying to force their expectations on Miles instead of accepting him for who he was. Even knowing all that, I hadn’t understood why Miles hadn’t wanted to tell them about the baby right away, not until he had explained it the last time we were at the diner.

  Now that I had a few years’ distance from the events, I supposed it wasn’t that different from why I hadn’t wanted to introduce him to my parents, either. They probably weren’t too dissimilar from his. Their attitude and expectations of me as an alpha and Zeke as an omega were completely different. Zeke hadn’t fought it like Miles seemed to, though. He had seemed content to be the traditional omega, submissive, meek, lighthearted. So much so that it worried me. Until he disappeared, and that worried me even more. Miles and Zeke were nothing alike; my parents would have been… difficult, at best.

  “Hello? Earth to Parker?” Miles waved his hands in front of my face and I jumped.

  “I’m sorry. You were saying?”

  Miles looked at me curiously. “Where were you?”

  Years ago and miles away, I thought. “Just… thinking…”

  “So what are we going to tell my parents about how we reconnected?”

  Ah, we were getting back to business. For a few minutes, I had let myself slip back into a time gone past, where we were friends, lovers, young, carefree. Those days were gone. “The truth?” I said. “We ran into each other in a coffee shop?”

  “And then that I ran away from you and we ended up in the same bar, drinking away our sorrows?”

  I flinched. That kind of had been what I’d been doing. “Well… maybe not that whole truth. But that we started talking, and realized that we’d grown compatible as we’ve grown up and left college behind us, and decided to explore making our connection something more.”

  The words tasted bitter in my mouth. I wanted them to be true, but I knew myself. I wasn’t to be trusted with Miles’s safety or heart. A jagged anxiety started tingling at my toes. This whole situation seemed fairly low risk to me, but what if I was able to hurt Miles with even this small thing?

  26

  Miles

  Why I decided to subject myself to pie at Mave’s with Parker was beside me. Mave’s was painful enough these days. It had been my favorite place for so many years, and then one little piece of paper changed it all. So many things had changed that day, but the most unexpected of them all was that my dad never once brought me back here for our weekly pie.

  I’d come in a few times when I’d returned from college, trying to reclaim the memories, the good times when, through my father’s eyes, I had all the potential in the world. It had helped when I had been so stuck in the negative. Even Sharon, the waitress from back in the day, was still here, still calling me Mo; a name I more than earned.

  If the diner only held those memories, it would be one thing, but this place was eerily similar to the one Parker and I had shared so much at. I’m sure Freud would have had loads to say about that and my daddy issues—disappointed by my father, so I sought out a lover who would do the same… what a load of crap. So like any well rounded and educated man, I shoved pie in my face as I tried to pull my thoughts together. Parker wanted to stick as close to the truth as possible, but twist it into an ideal “what might have been.” Logically, it made sense. But emotionally… it was going to be hell.

  “I guess that could work.” I had guzzled my mug of coffee and found myself reaching for his cup, an old habit. I hesitated mid-reach, then continued. If we were going to live this lie, I was going all in, no matter how painful. I had reached out to him, asked him for help. This was my punishment, driving the knife of what could have been into my heart over and over. I had spent the night before in a dream about Parker that would never be shared in polite company. He still gave me those butterflies just by being near me. That didn’t matter, though. Too much was between us.

  “I was thinking, for the sake of putting your parents at ease, maybe I should ask your parents’ permission to court?” Court. First my parents with Andrew, now Parker. Why did that word have to keep rearing its ugly head? It skeeved me out, the connotation that others decided my romantic future. Not that I had one, but still.

  “Because this is the sixteen hundreds?” I finished his coffee, because why the heck not.

  “No, because they seem the type to want that.”

  As much as I wished I could argue his point, I couldn’t. Parker nailed it one. In so many ways, my folks were progressive, but when it came to their little omega son, they traveled back to the days of old. It was only surprising they hadn’t attempted to arrange my mating sooner.

  “And if they say no because they are rooting for Andrew?”

  “I will show them my portfolio.” He relaxed into the back of his bench, arms folded in front of his chest, and a smirk on his face. It was nice to see that side of him, the playful side I knew from way back when. There was so much of Parker that felt like it hadn’t changed at all, but the things that were different were huge. He smiled less, worked far too much, and seemed lonely.

  “Because money will impress them?” Back in college, a guy who lived on Parker’s floor when we first met always bragged about fixing things by showing his fiscal family worth, and that was always our deadpanned reply. I’m not even sure if he ever understood our point. He thought we were serious.

  “In case you didn’t notice, I just rolled my eyes.” Parker hadn’t, but that only made it more amusing and I found myself smiling again. Not a forced smile, but a genuine, I’m having fun smile. I liked it. A bit too much.

  “No, because they want stability for you. Why else would they set you up with a sugar daddy?”

  “Ew, you did not just call Andrew a sugar daddy.” I wrinkled up my nose at the use of the term he knew I found awful. Not because of the connotation of someone wanting a rich person to take over them, but because I always said it stole the joy out of eating the yummy candy by the same name.

  “Am I wrong?” He quirked an eyebrow. I wanted to keep him like this, all playful and fun. No. No, I didn’t because that would mean—it would just mean and as much as part of me wanted that more than anything the part of me based in reality saw the whimsical nature of such thoughts.

  “Only partially,” I argued in my best professional voice. “He’s a creepy potential sugar daddy.”

  “So I should let them think I’m your hot sugar daddy?” A conclusion they most likely would jump to once they figured out who Parker’s family was.

  “Please, stop now.” My plea went ignored, my escaping giggles invalidating it.

  “Sexy sugar daddy?” Double eyebrow raise.

  “Kill me now,” I groaned, hiding my head in my hands to keep from busting a gut at his facial expressions.

  “Hottie McSexy
Drool Worthy sugar daddy?”

  Sharon saved me by refilling our coffees. She was so getting a huge tip. I was here to pave the way to get my parents off my back without rendering myself homeless, not to fall back into the easy rapport I once had with my old lover.

  “Sharon, he needs more pie to keep his mouth busy,” I said. She looked back and forth between us before winking at me and writing it down.

  “Sure thing, Mo.” She made her way back behind the counter for his pie, which he technically didn’t need, since he still hadn’t finished his first.

  “We do have one problem they are going to bring up,” I said, letting reality crash back down upon us.

  “That being?” Parker’s jovial spirit faded. This was business Parker. Still sexy as all be, but not what I wanted for him, at least not outside of work.

  “I’m always home by just past dinner. Which means that we’ve not ‘dated’ in the traditional sense. Shit, they probably think I spend early evening with you, and then you have your fill and go on with your real life.” I spoke fast, wanting to get it all out before he could ask questions about why I was such a pathetic omega, hiding from my parents, who did love me. At near thirty, too.

  “I doubt they think that of you. Not in their hearts.”

  “You’d be wrong. But in any case, how do we explain that away?” I so did not want to elaborate on how my parents felt about me now. Something about my designation as an omega had changed their perspective of me immediately. He knew, or at some point had known, some of it from before, but that didn’t mean I wanted to have a big open discussion on it now. Or in the near future. Or ever.

  “First, tell me where you go and why?”

  His question surprised me and I found myself answering him without second thought.

  “Why is easy: to avoid family meals where the topics always include finding a mate and where are my grandbabies.” He nodded. “Where varies. Café Om, mostly. Sometimes here. Occasionally the art museum. Wherever. It sounds so pathetic said aloud.” It was pathetic. Not enough sugar to coat that fact.

  “Not really.” He sounded as if he meant it, which I found unbelievable. “It does sound lonely, though.”

  “It can be.” It was, so very much so. But so was being home or at work. My life since I returned home was lonely. Period. From what he had said, and the depth in his eyes of the things he didn’t say, Parker’s was too. Weren’t we quite the pair? “So… ideas?”

  “I’m in the middle of a negotiating an important contract in Japan, and until that project is complete, I have shifted my work day to theirs? That’s not actually a lie.”

  Parker was freaking brilliant. Not that that was surprising. He always had been.

  “And weekends?” My parents would bring this up, sure, but I was compelled to know. How did he spend his weekends? Were they all work, too?

  “I’d been flying back to LA on the weekends to finalize the closure of my office there. No need to keep it open since I moved here. But now my weekends are all yours.” If only that last part was true, and not a means to fool my parents. No. No, that would be bad, very bad. Even it felt amazing to think about, if only briefly. I focused on the first part of his reasoning and pushed the rest of it down deep.

  “You just moved here?”

  “Sort of. I bought out Weber Manufacturing a year ago. I wasn’t certain if I was going to keep two offices going, but I needed to be onsite for the first few months of changeover. Then I realized that I was absolutely tired of LA, and if I never had to go back, I’d be okay with that. So three months we started winding down operations in California. It was the smaller office, so it didn’t take too long.”

  “So, is this more just a home base while you travel, or is home here now?”

  “Home,” Parker said. “After the back and forth of the last year, I’m ready to stay in one place for a while. I’ll still have to make the occasional trip overseas, but after this Japan deal wraps up, I don’t have any big plans for a while.”

  When Parker had answered the phone that first time, I’d gotten the impression he was more often gone than here. Correctly, it seemed. And it was a big city, so even if we’d both been here for several years, it was conceivable that we never would have run into each other. Even if I had only come back to visit my parents, chances are we would have run in completely different circles. But he lived here, and I lived here, and I knew he was here. When I first called him, I thought this was a temporary lay over for him. I knew his family wasn’t here and he seemed to not quite know his way around the city. New hadn’t crossed my pea brain. Life After Parker Version Two was going to be more complicated than the first time where I was almost guaranteed to never run into him again.

  “That works.” I didn’t have anything valuable to add that wouldn’t head into dangerous territory.

  “How serious were you when you said your parents would kick you out?” His voice roughened and deepened as his posture stiffened. Why had I even mentioned that? Babbling fool. That’s why.

  “Pretty serious.” I forced myself to meet his eyes, not wanting to look as weak as I felt.

  “You know if that did happen, I’d never l let you be on the streets.”

  I nodded. Parker would never let that happen to anyone he even mildly cared about. I didn’t delude myself into believing he meant that his couch or, heaven forbid, his bed were open to me. He meant he’d help me find a place, probably help with deposits and what not, until I got back on my feet.

  First thing in the morning, I needed to take a hard look at the bar reciprocity laws. Maybe if I’d already done that, I wouldn’t be in a diner, eating pie with the former love of my life, trying not to think about being in his life again—for real.

  27

  Parker

  I was so deep in my review of my monthly financial reports, I didn’t hear my cell phone buzzing until it was almost too late. I probably would have let it go to voicemail if I hadn’t glanced at it, Miles’s name on the screen pinging my subconscious so that I was scrambling to answer a moment later.

  “Miles?”

  “Hey, Parker, is now a good time?”

  “No, now’s fine.” My eyes had returned to a particularly interesting figure. It looked like we had spent ten percent more on operations than in previous months. I could have blamed that on closing down the LA office, but that should all have been slotted to its own category. Either something was miscategorized, or I needed to investigate why expenses had gone up so much. In a smaller company, ten percent might not have been that big of a deal. Ten percent could mean a hundred dollars. But with my company’s size, it was considerably more.

  “My parents would like to have you over Sunday for dinner, if that works.”

  Four days from now. “This Sunday? That’s a little short notice.” Sunday night was Monday morning in Japan, and I had a weekly goal-setting meeting with my team there. When we first started this project, I’d laid down the law that the Monday morning meeting was the most important time of the week. They could miss any other day, any other meeting, but not the Monday morning meeting. They’d better be next to death. One of my local guys even called in while his wife was giving birth. That was a little beyond the level of dedication I required, but not far. What kind of example would it set if I were the one to miss the meeting? What point was there in having the meeting without me?

  “No shorter than the two days you seemed to think was sufficient when I called you last week.” My attention snapped fully to Miles as I heard his sharp intake of breath. “I’m sorry, that was uncalled for. You’re doing me a favor, and I’m grateful for that.”

  “No, you’re right, I was just processing my week and looking at my calendar. Sunday will be fine.” It wouldn’t make sense to have the meeting without me, but I could postpone it a couple hours. I internally calculated what the loss of productivity would cost me, and then buried that thought. It was worth it. If I were given the ability to put a dollar amount on what it would take to fix
things between Miles and me, I’d pay it without a second thought. That was impossible, but I would do what I could.

  “Dinner at seven, but it would probably be good if you arrived about thirty minutes earlier than that.”

  “Of course.” I was already texting instructions to Lisa. “Do you want to meet up beforehand and arrive together?”

  “That would be fine. Normally I spend all Sunday out just to get away from my parents for a while. It will look good if we spend some of the weekend together.”

  I hadn’t even thought about that. I hadn’t had a weekend without work in… it was surprising that I couldn’t remember when. But on second thought, was it? In college, I had thrown myself into my studies after Miles and I split. And that had translated into summer internships, throwing myself into drunken binges on the weekends, and then life after college was work, work, work.

  “Where would you like to meet?”

  “Well, since we’re having dinner, the diner would probably be a bad idea. Don’t want to fill up on pie. What about Café Om?”

  I hesitated a little too long, and Miles hurried to add, “Or not, whatever works for you.”

  “Café Om is fine, but maybe not the one we met at?” I didn’t want to embroil Miles in my complicated and fragile relationship, if we even still had a relationship, with my brother. Marcus and I had met up a few times here and there, but we still weren’t back to where I wanted us to be. He probably wouldn’t be working, but I didn’t want to count on my luck.

  “Oh, right…”

  I knew I had piqued his curiosity, that he had connected at least some of the dots, but I didn’t volunteer anything further.

  “Is there a coffee shop close to where you live, then?”

  “Uh, probably? I really haven’t stepped out to get to know the area much.”

  Miles laughed, and I was glad my brusqueness earlier hadn’t completely ruined the small rapport we’d been able to rebuild. “You’re hopeless, Parker.”