Christmas with His Omega

by Lorelei M. Hart

  “Whenever you’re ready, Pierce.” I laced my voice with alpha, letting him know I expected the whole truth.

  He rested his face on my chest with a sigh. “It’s a weird story.” Of course it was. If it weren’t, he’d have shown up for the holidays with his grams, alpha at his side. Like most pregnant guys did. Or at least not have been so sketchy about him.

  “Let me be the judge of that.” In the low lighting of the living room, his lashes cast a shadow on his cheek. His shirt was not as generously sized as the coat and stretched tight over the baby bump. His skinny jeans caressed his lean hips, and I’d managed to get a good enough look at him from the rear to know the pregnancy hadn’t spread that fine behind. Pierce would snap right back after giving birth, at least physically. “Nothing you can say will shock me. I’m just so glad to have you back in town. You are staying, right? Not just a visit?”

  “I’m staying at least through the birth. Then I am not sure what my plans are.” He licked his lips, and my cock jumped in my pants. I had good ideas of what to do with that mouth…

  “You’ve already gotten my hopes up.” I reached for a cup of cocoa and held it to his lips, waiting while he took a gulp before sipping from it myself. The room temp had already risen into the comfortable zone, while, outside, the white fluffy stuff drifted down. “So...the baby?”

  “It’s not mine?” At my dropped jaw, he hurried on. “I mean it is, now, but it wasn’t to start with. See, I was approached by a surrogacy agency to carry a baby for a couple who couldn’t carry their own then they backed out.”

  “What do you mean they backed out? They didn’t want their own child?” As the room grew cozier, and Pierce snuggled closer, he also became harder to understand, his words thick with drowsiness. But I got enough, and by the time his breathing evened out into sleep, I knew he’d been hired by the couple, who apparently thought a baby would solve their many problems, and then he’d been let go, when the pregnancy did not have the desired result of saving their screwed-up selves from themselves. Instead of severance, he’d ended up with medical coverage through the end of his pregnancy, and then he’d get to keep the baby. Or put it up for adoption. They didn’t care. The bio parents were splitting up and didn’t want the hassle. A pair of jerks with more money than heart. I couldn’t conceive of walking away from my own child. Hell, I was already having trouble with the concept of not being around to watch Pierce’s baby grow up.

  Not that I planned to let that happen.

  Watching him sleep, my lingering baser urges faded into a desire to protect and care for this man who’d held a part of my soul all these years. He wasn’t looking for a relationship; he had a baby to worry about. And a job to find if he was going to support that child. The center could offer him a lot of support, and I made a promise to myself to take him there as soon as possible. It had to be overwhelming to take on a baby you hadn’t planned on. And how hard had it been to carry the little one knowing it would go...then learning it would stay. I couldn’t even imagine what that could do to someone’s head.

  I scooped him up and carried him to my bedroom where he’d be more comfortable. He hadn’t even had a cookie before falling asleep. With the baby so close to arriving, he must be wiped out. Did he know if it was a boy or a girl yet? I didn’t want to upset him, but I wanted to know. For present-buying purposes, of course.

  The room across the hall, my office/store room would make a great nursery. Close enough to get to the baby fast if he/she needed something, but far enough for a little privacy for...there went those baser urges again. But it wouldn’t take much to move my desk and the boxes of tax documents to the apartment over the garage and bring in a crib and changing table and whatever else babies needed. A dresser probably. A swing? A bouncy thing? A cradle?

  Tenderly tugging his shoes off, I covered him up then lay next to him on the bed, wide awake. I could have headed out to the living room and watched some TV, maybe worked on my project a bit, but all I really wanted was to be close to Pierce.

  My desire to have a family rose from the ashes as I caressed the basketball-sized bump containing a little boy or girl who might—or might not—look just like Pierce. For tonight I’d settle for just lying here and dreaming. But when he woke up, we’d have more talking to do. I didn’t intend to let him walk out of my life again. Not without showing him what he meant to me.

  Chapter Five

  Pierce

  Snug and warm. Those were the thoughts filling my head as I rolled over, taking the soft blanket with me. I felt refreshed like I hadn’t in eons. Something about cocoa just had all of my muscles relaxing and my eyes drooping.

  It was nice of Rhone to cover me up and let me sleep, and most of me was wanting to stay snug and warm right there on the couch. That part of me didn’t include my bladder.

  Throwing off the blanket, I threw my legs over the side of the couch to have them dangling and not touching the floor. Cracking my eyes open, it had become abundantly clear I was no longer on the couch. No wonder it was so comfortable. I was in a bed. His bed.

  “I brought you here, afraid the sofa would hurt your back,” Rhone called from the doorway. “I just got off the phone with your gram. She called over here after Brent phoned her place to give you an update on the car and he, it seems, told her we were together.” The left corner of his mouth lifted in that way he reserved for only when he was causing mischief, at least back when I knew him last. Who knew what it meant anymore, but I wanted to.

  There was something so familiar and comforting about being with him, in his space, eating food he provided and letting out my secret. It was also emotionally exhausting, which, added to my pregnancy exhaustion, led to the impromptu nap and me waking up in his bed.

  “Is the car ready? How much was it? Skip that. Can I use the bathroom first?” I was talking a mile a minute as the urge to pee slammed into me when I stood up. Darn bladder. He nodded, and I went in the direction he pointed and took care of business and attempted to smooth my bedhead. I failed dramatically at the latter.

  When I came out, he was standing just where he was when I left, this time with the phone in his hand. “Thanks. I’ll check in in the a.m. Thanks, Brent.”

  “Was that about my car?” I stopped close enough to be near him, but not quite close enough to be creepery.

  He nodded before taking my hand, leading me to his kitchen, and offering me a seat at the breakfast bar.

  “So, are you going to answer my question?” I teased as he poured me a glass of orange juice.

  “Technically, I did.”

  Wiseass.

  “What did Brent say?” I knew it was bad if he hadn’t offered the info from the get-go, but I needed to know how bad it was in order to brainstorm a way to make it less bad.

  I took a long drink of my juice as I watched him figure out what he was going to say. That couldn’t be good news.

  “He said he has to order a few parts, so he needs it for a week.”

  A week. A week wasn’t good, but it was workable. I only had my doctor appointment, and I was pretty sure Grams could help me get there. The “few parts” was my big concern, given one part might be a quarter or two grand.

  “Did he say how much the parts would be?” I crossed my fingers it was just a run-of-the-mill little thing, knowing that chances were, given the age of my vehicle, it was pricey.

  “He did. But don’t worry about it. It has all been taken care of.” He took a swig of his juice as if that answered that, and it so very much did not.

  “You will not pay for me.” I was stern, determined not to be his charity case.

  “I will have you know I don’t plan to give him one cent.” He flashed me his mischief smile, and I knew instantly there was more to that sentence than it seemed. Why couldn’t he just give me a figure already?

  “What do you plan to give him?” Knowing that had to be the catch and wishing I never asked, the possibilities of what he could exchange might be looped through my mind. He mus
t’ve read it on my face, his instantly becoming serious.

  “Nothing so sinister.” He settled his hand on my shoulder, gently and comfortingly. “I’m going to replace the toilet and sink in their bathroom. It seems even people picking up cars prefer their bathrooms with sinks that don’t have a huge chunk out of them and toilets that have no cracks. Who knew?”

  That very much didn’t sound like a small favor. In fact, I remembered my ex-boss having a screaming match on the phone with his contractor over how much time he was charged for a similar job, so even if the toilet and such were free, this was a high-value exchange. One I deserved not at all. Not from anyone, much less an old flame.

  “I’ll pay you back?” I wasn’t sure how, but I’d figure it out.

  “For what?” he asked with a sincerity that meant he truly didn’t get my discomfort in all of this.

  “The work. I will pay you what you would have invoiced him for your work.” Which, given the looks of the kitchen I was sitting in, was top-notch and not at all cheap.

  “I would have invoiced him nothing.”

  I gave him my best are you fucking kidding me look.

  “We don’t work like that.” He winked, thinking his charm was going to win me over, which it very well might have if it weren’t for the karate chop that came out of nowhere. Looked like baby was awake and ready to execute a roundhouse kick.

  “Oww,” I exclaimed, immediately regretting it as Rhone’s hand left my shoulder and reached for his phone.

  “Are you okay? Is it baby time? What do I do?” He had his phone in his hand, looking both completely bewildered and freaked out.

  “Give me your hand,” I demanded, and when he gave it to me, I pressed it on my belly, right where baby was getting all feisty. “Here. It wasn’t ow that hurts. I was ow that startles and, fine, hurts a bit because of where baby kicked but worth every instance of pain because I get to feel my baby.”

  “You have a baby in you.” He stared at my swollen belly, his jaw hanging open, eyes showing every bit of awe he felt.

  “I know.” I laughed. “That’s pretty much what the being pregnant thing means.”

  “I mean a real baby.” And, as if trying to solidify his understanding, baby kicked so hard, Rhone’s hand nearly fell from my belly.

  “I know.”

  “Do they always do this? I mean, kick over and over again?” His hand followed the kicks, not missing a single one. It was freaking adorable and pulled a yearning from me I’d tried to suppress. I didn’t want to be a single dad. This was my baby I was going to make the best life for ever, but if I’d had the choice, I’d be doing every step of this with a partner, a mate.

  “I just drank juice,” I explained. It was the most surefire way to get the little one active and the reason I never drank it before a nap or bedtime. “It is the surefire way to get karate time started.”

  “You’re going to be a dad.” Poor guy was still awestruck by the miracle of life. Had he not been around any pregnant people or new babies, or was it me specifically he was shocked by? I probably didn’t even want to know the answer to that one.

  “I am.”

  “Do you even know how sexy that is?”

  Out of all the things in the world I could’ve imagined as his reply, never would sexy have crossed my mind, but after it was out there, there was no way my lower brain was going to either ignore or forget it. He stood at full attention in the most embarrassing of ways. There was no possibility, given his proximity, Rhone could be oblivious to my rock-hard boner. None. My cheeks bloomed to the occasion.

  Looking down to avoid his eyes, I glimpsed his own bulging pants. So not alone in my dilemma, which only made it worse because it brought on the impossible question: So now what?

  “Being fat, bedhead ridden, and with ankles the size of a small nation? Do tell me how sexy I am.” Self-deprecation and crappy humor spilled from my mouth, instead of my being an adult and asking Rhone what I really wanted to know. Where was a good hole to climb into when a fellow needed one?

  “I’d rather show you.” Rhone tilted my chin up before bringing his lips down to mine and kissing me breathless, right there on his kitchen stool as if it were the most normal thing in the world. An omega could get used to that. Too used to it.

  “Be careful. An omega might think you are serious.” Or, more accurately, want him to be more than anything.

  “So very much so,” Rhone replied before sealing his lips over mine and removing any chance I had at a rebuttal.

  Rhone

  Two weeks had passed since I brought him home to my house...and despite the desire that burned in the air every time we brushed against one another, we hadn’t gone beyond kissing. Well, not very far, anyway. The guy was days from popping out a baby, and what if I broke something?

  I couldn’t keep from light caresses and hugs, however. And my cock had been hard for so long, I was afraid of permanent damage. If you had a hard-on that lasted longer than four hours, and it was not chemically induced, should you call the doctor anyway?

  But it was worth it, holding my animal instincts at bay while Pierce finished nurturing a baby deep inside him. I needed him to understand sex wasn’t all I wanted from him.

  Waking up next to him—me fully clothed on top of the bedding with a single quilt pulled over me, and him tucked safely between the sheets, curled into the most adorable ball against my side—never failed to make me smile. And then wince a little as I reminded my dick that if I didn’t screw this up now, I’d have years to please and be pleased by this armful of sexy omega.

  Years. You hear that, cock-o’-mine? So, just settle down. Soon, we’d be able to revisit the sex life we’d just had a taste of before he moved away.

  Starting...sometime after the New Year. Or as soon as the doc said it was okay. Note to self: ask the doc at today’s appointment how long we had to wait. Because, to my great joy and terror, Pierce had invited me to come with him to his next to last prenatal visit. And then we were going to head for the singles group to set up the present I’d been working on to burn off some of the energy being constantly rock-hard generated.

  I’d actually intended to wait until spring to deliver the elaborate playset, after the landscaping I’d arranged for their front area, and the fencing I planned to install myself, were in place. It was an outdoors kind of present, but it was done! And I’d figured out how to set up part of it in their main gathering room until the rest could be erected after the snows melted.

  What made it even better was that Pierce had helped me so much. He wasn’t exactly a carpenter, but he tried hard and, when his belly didn’t get in the way, had been a pretty good assistant. He brought me cocoa, coffee, and tea so often, I was peeing nearly as often as him and had begged him to stop. It felt very Christmasy and special to do it together. Like a real couple.

  Pierce emerged from the bathroom and grabbed the breakfast burrito I’d wrapped up for him to take along. It was his third, but who was counting. So far as I could tell, he was carrying that baby front and center, and the rest of him, swollen ankles excepted, was still pretty darn ripped.

  “Did you get everything loaded up?” he asked, holding the paper bag in his teeth while shrugging into that dang coat he refused to give up. I’d offered to buy him a new one, even dragged him into the one shop in town that carried winter wear and made him try on a nice, knee-length parka that fit like a dream, but he insisted he’d be back in regular clothes before long and didn’t want me to spend the money. Instead, at his suggestion, we’d bought some children’s coats for the center kids. He was going to be a terrific dad.

  His grams suspected he was a little superstitious about his grandfather’s coat that now barely closed over his belly. She told me over Sunday dinner—to which we now had a standing invitation, like she considered me a real member of the family—that her husband wore that coat while Pierce was a kid and had walked him to school wearing it before they moved away the first time. She theorized he felt safe in it
, like everything would be okay as long as he didn’t change coats. Although my goofy omega protested any such superstitions, his cheeks flamed, belying his denials.

  My omega. That’s right. I said it. In my head, at least.

  But I had to get him to realize I could keep him safe, make a home for him and his baby. I wanted him under my protection, not that of an old coat. So far, I’d done everything possible to keep him warm and safe and happy. But was it enough? Did he want me the way I wanted him?

  “Rhone?” His questioning tone dragged me out of my thoughts and into the present. A present I had no reason not to want to be part of, where my omega stood at the door, waiting for me to take him to his doctor’s appointment. And where we had plans for the rest of the day, too.

  A couple, a family in the making? If not, I didn’t know what I’d do. But I didn’t want to pressure him into something he wasn’t ready for. Despite our kisses and cuddles, he’d not said a word about wanting to be together forever.

  To be fair, neither had I. I’d hinted a lot, though.

  After a quick stop to pick up Pierce’s grandmother, who wanted to come with us for the prenatal visit and then be dropped off at the senior center for Christmas Bingo with her buddies—or biddies, as Pierce called them—we arrived at the medical building and settled in to wait. I was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a roomful of rockers, or so our extra passenger claimed, so when the nurse opened the door to usher all of us into an exam room a little small for such a crowd, I almost fell over the laces on my work boots that had an annoying tendency to untie if I didn’t use a double knot, which I obviously had not. Not knotted. Not funny.

  “Breathe, Rhone,” Pierce chuckled. “I’m the one having the baby. All you have to do is watch.”