Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Christmas with his Omega
By
Lorelei M. Hart
Copyright
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Please purchase only authorized electronic editions and do not participate in, or encourage, the electronic piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the products of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2017 Lorelei M. Hart
Editor Wizards in Publishing
Cover design by Fantasia Frog Designs
Published by Wizards in Publishing
Table of Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Epilogue
Christmas with his Omega
All he wants for Christmas is a safe place to have his baby. Santa has other ideas.
When Pierce finds out the couple he is carrying a baby for is backing out of the arrangement, he has very mixed feelings. Ecstatic to be no longer legally obligated to give up the baby he has long since thought of as his, he’s also terrified he’ll be unable to provide for his new little treasure. Almost eight months pregnant, he sets off to find refuge at his grandmother's house, back in the town he called his own many years earlier, the town where he found and lost his one and only love, Rhone.
Rhone has a good life—an amazing career doing what he loves and a beautiful home. But even after the passage of many years, he still longs for the one thing he no longer has. Pierce, the omega who got away. After his family “moved” in the middle of the night to avoid his father’s gambling debts, Pierce never returned, leaving a vacant place in Rhone’s heart until one day when Pierce shows up at the diner where their love began.
All the feelings as well as the lust returned the moment they saw each other, only this time they weren’t two young men with no responsibilities. This time they had a third to think about, the sweet baby growing inside Pierce.
Christmas with his Omega is a holiday novella with sweetness, heat, and more than one Christmas Miracle.
Chapter One
Pierce
Mapleville 25 Miles
The sign flickered by as I made my way down the two-lane highway, or at least highway by country standards. It had been so long since I’d traveled this road, and never as the driver. Mapleville, my temporary home while my father was out of work after he broke his back, and the one place I still called home in my heart. Which was insanity given I’d lived there for one summer and the first half of senior year in high school, and for a few years I barely remembered in early elementary, but you can’t decide what your heart sets its mind on.
I rubbed my ever-expanding belly, huffing out a laugh at how it was the epitome of my hypothesis.
I’d agreed to be a surrogate father partly out of a desire to help a family, but mostly out of financial need after my own parents died, leaving me broker than the average twenty something. Little did I know that surrogate contracts in my state allowed the family to change their mind at any moment and walk away as long as the financial obligations were met, which was exactly how I ended up returning to my grandmother’s after all these years.
Not that I was upset the family changed their mind. If they were able to go from loving parents-to-be to bitter adults in a high-stakes divorce in the time it took me to start showing, my baby was better off without them.
My baby. Technically, none of the DNA belonged to me. That wasn’t how the surrogacy thing worked, but the moment they broke the contract, the baby became mine completely, and instead of being heartbroken or even freaked out, I found my heart soaring. Yes, this was a good thing, even if it meant I needed to figure out a new life plan.
I pulled into the corner market in Jackson, the last stop before home. It was only another ten-minute drive, but the jokes about needing to pee every ten minutes when your baby plays soccer on your bladder was far more accurate than any omega ever wished it was.
A chill ran down my spine as I climbed out of my pathetic excuse for a car. At least it ran, and I was glad for it because it was the last thing I had of my parents. The apartment building where they died had burned to the ground, thanks to far more code violations than I even knew there were codes. The owner was looking at a huge jail sentence, but no amount of justice would bring them back. They might not have been the best parents ever, but they’d tried their best, and I would miss them until my last breath.
The ground was snow covered, but not slick, which was a relief. My balance had seen better days. The door opened for me, or, more accurately, for the couple exiting, their arms full of beer. Some things never changed. This place was known as beer heaven to many a high school kid, thanks to their lack of carding people they knew.
I snuck in as the door closed, grateful for the warmth. I needed to get a winter coat, one of the things I hadn’t taken into consideration as I packed the car in eighty-degree weather. Worming my way through the vendor displays for overpriced candy bars and jerky, I found the bathroom quickly, much to my bladder’s relief.
Feeling the need to earn my right to use the facility, I grabbed a few popcorn balls and meandered to the counter, finding myself face-to-face with Maria, one of my former classmates.
“Hi, Maria. Long time no see.”
Squeeing followed by her running around the counter to hug me ensued. In my memory, we weren’t that close, but hugs weren’t something I’d turn down. Not lately. Something about being pregnant, even before I knew I’d get to be a dad, had me craving touch. Maybe it was hormones or possibly just missing my family that had me sinking into her hug, not that it mattered.
“It’s good to see you, Maria.” I smiled at her as she made her way back to the register.
“You, too. Things weren’t the same after you left, Pierce. Rhone wasn’t the same.” She scanned my items as the enormity of what she’d just revealed slammed into me.
Rhone wasn’t the same. I mean, I knew he’d loved me as much as I loved him—it was how young first love worked and all that crap—but I assumed he just moved along, most likely to David, the football player superstar who never made it secret that he wanted Rhone.
“Two thirty-three, please.” Maria gave me my total as if she hadn’t just pulled a Band-Aid off an old wound.
“How long have you been here?” I handed her a five. It was a ludicrous amount to pay for a couple of small popcorn balls, but they’d always been a weakness of mine and not readily found in my last state.
“I started here out of high school, so for fucking ever but it’s all good.” She handed me my change before leaning in and lowering her voice, for whom I had no idea since we were there alone. “It’s a secret, but I have been buying this place. I should be the full owner by the end of next year. I blame you.”
“I’m so happy for you. Why me?” Other than hanging with the same circle of friends, I couldn’t remember anything life changing happening between us, but she was practically glowing so I was glad something
had.
“Because of what you said.”
I shrugged my shoulders slightly as I tried to think of something profound that self-absorbed teenage me might have said.
“You know when I got rejected by State? You said, don’t let those assholes stop you. You can own the world.”
That completely sounded like me.
“I meant figuratively, but go you.” I held in a chuckle. It was good to see her doing well. School had never been her thing, not that she wasn’t smart enough, she just wasn’t into it as much as—well, anything else.
“No one else ever believed in me like that, so thanks.” She grabbed her cup, taking a long sip of her soda, my popcorn balls in her other hand. “Why are you back? Thanksgiving with your grandmother?”
“More like moving back.” At least until I could figure out a better game plan. My grandmother was getting older, and the last thing she needed was responsibility for my sorry self, complete with child. Not that she’d ever say that, but if I was going to grow some roots, I needed to do so while helping her, not mooching off her.
“With your mate?” I knew she was addressing the elephant in the room, my possibly too-much beer, but most likely prego, belly.
“No mate.” I reached for my goods, but she pulled them back as she ducked under the counter.
“Ohh,” was all I could hear of her mumblings below the counter.
“As you said, it’s all good.” I plastered the fakest smile ever on my face. It wasn’t all good or even kind of good, but I was going to make it so. I wasn’t the only one counting on me anymore.
“Thanks for supplying my craving for yummy goodness.” I hinted as she pulled up the bag she must’ve been messing with as she was bent over. “I don’t need a bag.” It wasn’t like they’d make it much past the driveway.
“Yes, yes you do. I hope to see you soon.”
I took the bag and started to turn away when she called out, “Maybe we can get together and I don’t know, do parent stuff?”
“Are you a mom?” I asked, pretty much solidifying her conjecture that I was knocked up, which I was even if I wanted to discuss it with my grandmother before random people from my past.
“To three.” She beamed with pride. Good on her. “I guess we have a lot to talk about.” She made no point of hiding her gaze upon where my child was growing.
“I guess so. I’ll be at my grandmother’s. I need to get a new phone—accident with a washing machine—but I’ll be there. See you.” I knew I was being kind of rude with my flight out of there, but I really owed it to Grandma to talk to her first. All she knew was that I was coming.
“See you,” Maria called back, the door closing behind me as I once again entered the cold night.
Climbing into my car, I cranked the heat before eating my first popcorn ball. It was every bit as good as I remembered them to be. After grabbing the second, I saw why she had insisted on giving me the bag. Inside was a flyer for a single omega support group run by—her. I guess she really had done well for herself. Maybe I’d check it out as I got closer to delivering. Right now, what I needed to do was get settled in, find a job, and figure out how to make the meager insurance money my parents left me last as long as possible.
The first snowflake of my trip fell just as I crossed over the town line, as if welcoming me home. Snow was one of my favorite things, and the last few years of my life had been void of the icy wonder. If I was lucky, my grandma would have some of my father’s old winter gear still floating around. She tended to not get rid of things even when she should. If not, a trip to Savings Mart was in order.
I pulled onto the road I would once again call home shortly after six or, as my grandmother called it, dinnertime. She’d probably be not too impressed I was late the very first day, and I could’ve avoided it by not stopping to chat so long, but it was what it was.
As the house came into view, I saw her porch light, and my heart filled with the happy. She never let us put that blasted thing on, claiming it hemorrhaged money and was reserved for only when the best people were coming for dinner. Me. I was the best people in her mind. I knew this, always feeling her love when we talked on the phone or when she’d send me my birthday card complete with a one-dollar bill, but the porch light—it suffused me with the warm fuzzies, my eyes filling with happy tears. I parked the car and walked up the stairs, her door swinging open just as I reached the top step and her arms embracing me in the bear hugs of all bear hugs.
I was home, and everything was going to be okay.
Rhone
Another holiday season was arriving in Mapleville, another year swinging to a close. As winter settled on the land, my contracting jobs also slowed. Not that it was a problem, I’d earned plenty during the warm months. It wasn’t money that preyed on my mind. But no matter how successful I became—at least in terms of our small-town economy—I had nobody to share it with, a fact I only really thought of when the eighty-hour work weeks ground to a halt.
Once we got past the holidays, there’d be some things to do. Indoor finish carpentry could continue in any weather, but none of my clients wanted sawdust all over their lovely Christmas-decorated homes. Maybe I should’ve gone to my mom’s retirement condo in the Florida Keys until after New Year’s. Lord knows she’d have been happy to have me. But something about the place, with her super active social life, friends and more than friends in and out of the place at all hours of the day and night highlighted my own lack thereof.
Not to mention a few senior ladies who tried to slip me their unit numbers in a less-than-subtle seduction scenario. No, I’d grab a flight down there a bit deeper into winter when they were partied out, and the craving for hot sunshine on my face made me more tolerant of Mom’s crazy lifestyle. To her credit, she’d been a model wife and mother before she lost my dad, but she was more than making up for a circumspect life that had apparently not been to her taste.
Or that she’d grown bored with.
I didn’t blame her.
With the week between Christmas and New Year’s stretching open before me, I had to find something to do with my time or I’d go nuts. And while in the past I’d succumbed to invites to friends’ homes, friends whose love life had gone in the right direction instead of belly-up like mine had all those years ago, I just didn’t have the stomach for it. One more pair of happy guys thrusting their sweet-smelling bundle of joy into my arms, their lovingly decorated Christmas tree’s multicolored glow shining on the angelic face, a choir of equally angelic voices caroling through their sound systems. And they didn’t need my jealousy.
Even if I did get it together enough, perhaps through the judicious imbibement of spiked eggnog, it was only a matter of time before some well-meaning soul mentioned Pierce. We’d all been friends for so long, memories were bound to come up.
But sometimes it sucked the life out of me to remember what I’d had and lost. Especially at Christmas.
Pulling into a convenience store on the way back from giving an estimate two towns over, I took a six pack to the counter. Rarely did I drink at home, but a beer or two might make the holidays jollier. Or at least bearable. No eggnog! Not falling into that trap again.
“Interesting timing, Rhone,” Maria said ringing up my purchase and slipping the microbrews into a paper bag. “You should have been here a little earlier.”
“Why? You closing early?” I asked, pulling a twenty out of my pocket. “You against beer at the holidays or something? I’d think it would be a big seller. Not everyone wants wassail.”
“Wassail.” She snorted and made change. “You kill me. Do you even know what wassail is?”
“Yeah.” I stuffed the few dollars left from my overpriced brew into the charity box on the counter. Not every local family had the luxury of rejecting the holidays. Some would kill to have the trimmings I was deciding not to enjoy. The thought shamed me a little. Perhaps instead of throwing the baby out with the bathwater, I could find a volunteer opportunity. Help put some joy in
to someone else’s life. I eyed the charity box. Young Parents Christmas Dinner Fund. “Maria, what do you know about this group? Are they looking for anyone to cook or anything?”
“Maybe you could serve or wash dishes. Did you learn to cook since…”
I grimaced. “The town picnic was a fluke. Anyone could burn a burger.”
“I think it was the raw inside, not the charcoal outside, that sent some folks to the hospital, Rhone.” She shook her head and leaned a hip against the back counter. “And that reminds me. You know who could really cook? Pi—”
Oh no, she did not go there. “Hey listen, Maria. I have to get home and do some things. You take care, okay?”
As the door swung closed behind him, he heard her say, “Wait, I wanted to tell you…” But I didn’t want to talk about the past. I wanted to go home and drink my beer and try to go to sleep.
Maybe until spring.
Chapter Two
Pierce
“Tea?” Grandma offered for the fourth time that morning.
I nodded my acceptance if for no other reason than to put a smile on her face.
“Mint or black?” She held up the two beat-up boxes, as if I needed the visual to understand her question.
“Mint would be great, Grams. I can get it.” I got up from my perch at the table, not liking the way she felt the need to wait on me since I walked in. True, she had always been one to fuss over us. It was her thing. But now that I was back and very pregnant, she’d amped up her attentiveness to the point I was worried about her.
She’d taken the pregnancy much better than I thought she would. I’d avoided telling her about the surrogacy, not wanting her to worry about me, so when I walked in heavy with child she assumed, as most would, that I’d either found a mate or made some stupid decisions during my heat. Not that she treated me different for it, allowing me to tell her the story in my time over Thanksgiving week. Grams was pretty much the most amazing woman on the planet, and not for the first time I regretted not making a better attempt to visit her over the years.
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