It had gone well, too. Raph liked to think he’d been a great brother to them both, looking out for them at school, keeping the bullies away from Wyatt and Penny. He’d helped Wyatt with his homework, and Penny with her craft projects. Then Wyatt had turned fourteen, and his behavior around Raph had changed.
It wasn’t like Raph had turned him away. He’d still held hands when Wyatt wanted to. He’d accompanied Wyatt through his piano lessons. When he’d stayed up late to study for his exams, Wyatt had sneaked down to the kitchen to make him sandwiches.
When Wyatt turned seventeen, he’d started to sidle up to Raph. At eighteen, he’d taken to burying his face in Raph’s chest, his breath tickling Raph’s skin through his shirt. Raph had breathed in Wyatt’s scent, familiar and warm and good.
He’d never felt the same way about Penny, even though she was omega, too. Just Wyatt. Which had made it more confusing, because they were all supposed to be siblings.
Last week, Raph had discovered that Wyatt’s scent was more than good. It had smelled delicious. The sex had been mind-blowing, and Wyatt had pressed up close against him, trusting, even though they hadn’t spoken in years. Raph hadn’t shared that kind of intimacy with any other omega he’d slept with.
He sighed, pulling his key from the ignition. No sense in counting his regrets.
He was about to step out of the car when the front door of the diner crashed open. A girl flew out in roller skates, wearing elbow and shin guards, and an egg-yellow apron. She looked nine, maybe ten. Raph recognized her blond ponytail from the pictures on Facebook.
She skated up to the driver’s side window, notebook and pen in hand, and a bright smile on her face. Hazel, her name tag read. Wyatt’s daughter.
Wyatt had a daughter from someone else, other than Raph. Raph knew that. But it still made the possessive instincts in him growl. Wasn’t the kid’s fault, though, and it wasn’t Wy’s, either.
Wyatt wasn’t his. Could never be.
Raph cracked the car door open, waiting for her to move out of the way. With deft turns of her feet, Hazel skated backward, beaming when he climbed out of the car. “Would you prefer a seat inside? You were out here a while—I thought you wanted a drive-in meal.”
“I’m here to see Wy. Wyatt.” The girl looked like her omega father—Raph liked that. Didn’t take a genius to figure out why.
“Oh! Are you Uncle Raph?” Hazel studied him, tucking her notebook into her apron pocket. “Aunt Penny told Dad you were coming to visit.”
Penny, you loudmouth.
“You shouldn’t make assumptions about who I am, kid,” Raph said. But he couldn’t help smiling when she grinned and beckoned for him to follow. “Don’t trust people you don’t know!”
“Dad tells me that all the time,” Hazel said, glancing around the parking lot. There were a few parked cars with their windows rolled down and trays clipped on the doors—their occupants ate from bowls of hot soup, dark strands of vegetables a contrast against the pale noodles.
Hazel skated across the road, waiting for him to catch up.
“Your dad’s right,” Raph said. “I’m surprised he lets you work at the diner.”
“I’m just helping out.” She beamed, so damn innocent that Raph wanted to usher her back into the diner, and tell Wyatt to hire an actual waitress to tend to the patrons. “If I’m good, Dad lets me cook in the kitchen.”
“What?” Raph said. Seriously?
“Just eggs.” Hazel pouted. “But he’s been letting me help with the stewed pork.”
“Doesn’t seem appropriate for you to be working in a commercial kitchen,” Raph said as they reached the diner’s front doors.
“I’m learning for my future. Dad says it’s important to have a good one.” Hazel looked up at him with serious eyes, and part of Raph melted.
He was about to say, You’re a good kid, when Hazel pulled the door open, sucked in a deep breath, and hollered, “Dad!”
Not the entrance Raph had planned.
A handful of patrons looked over. Raph grimaced. “I don’t need to be announced, princess.”
Hazel grinned. “You do. Dad’s been anxious all morning. I think he was waiting to see you.”
Raph’s stomach flopped and sank. That was bad news, wasn’t it? Aside from a pregnancy, he couldn’t imagine why else Wyatt would be anxious. He stepped into the diner with Hazel.
Wy’s Drive-In didn’t just have a spacious parking lot for its patrons; inside the diner, elegant latticework separated the rows of wide, cushioned booths. The walls were all wood paneling, polished and dark, adorned with hanging tapestries and calligraphy. Pots of bamboo lined the waiting area by the front door, and plain square flags hung above the counter, where patrons could watch as the chefs stirred steaming pots of soup.
The scent of savory broth masked the flowery, woodsy scents of the patrons—Raph could almost be anonymous here.
“He’s taking a while,” Hazel said, peering around Raph.
Before he could move, Wyatt hurried out of a narrow hallway at the back of the restaurant, a crinkle on his forehead. His eyes found Hazel first. Then he glanced up at Raph, and his footsteps faltered. His throat worked.
“Is it true you haven’t talked to him in nine years?” Hazel whispered.
Raph wanted to kill Penny, but the sight of Wyatt drowned those thoughts away.
Wyatt was dressed in a button-down shirt and black pants, his feet wrapped in a pair of black sports shoes. In the warm light of the diner, his hair gleamed, his chest heaving a little. He looked good. Surprised. A little upset. And Raph was taken aback at how well he could read Wyatt, even after all these years.
Wyatt forced a smile. “Thanks, Hazel. You should be doing your homework now, shouldn’t you?”
“But I wanna say hi to the guests,” Hazel said, smiling up at Wyatt with her hands clasped. “Please?”
Raph wouldn’t be able to say no to those eyes. Apparently, neither could Wyatt.
“All right,” Wyatt said, sighing. “But you’ll take off that apron at five!”
“Will do,” Hazel sang, turning on her skates. She sailed out the front door, and Wyatt and Raph both watched as she circled the parking lot, keeping tabs on the patrons.
“So,” Raph said, glancing at his stepbrother.
“We’ll talk in my office.” Wyatt met his eyes, then waved at one of the chefs behind the counter. “Sam—I’ll be gone for fifteen. Keep an eye on Hazel, please?”
“Sure,” Sam said, looking hard at Raph for a second. Raph felt as though he was being graded against a checklist. Then, Sam nodded. “You know she’ll be in good hands!”
Wyatt turned, leading the way through the diner. His shoulders were thin, his hips narrow, and his pants hugged his ass. Raph took a deep breath, trying to shake his memories away.
Wyatt was a good dad—Raph saw it in the way Wyatt looked at his daughter, the way he watched out for her safety. The way he was polite to everyone, his stride confident, his expression friendly, even when he wasn’t feeling his best.
He had grown in the years since Raph had last seen him, and Raph wanted to know more. Wanted to see how Wyatt had fared since that bastard Max had kicked him out, leaving him homeless and pregnant.
Wyatt was in pretty bad shape when he stayed over at my place, one of Wy’s Facebook friends had said. He had a few bruises on his arms. I told him he could stay for longer, but he left after a week.
Raph had saved those conversations in case they were ever needed. But gods, the thought of some alpha hurting Wyatt... Raph wanted to hit something. Or someone.
They strode to the back of the diner, to the hallway Wyatt had emerged from. Past the bathrooms, Wyatt stopped at a plain wooden door, pulling out a key. “Wait in here for a moment?”
“Sure,” Raph said.
“I’ll be back in a minute.” Wyatt stepped past him to the nearest bathroom, his eyes solemn.
Raph watched as he disappeared past the swinging door. Why were you anx
ious to see me?
Unlike the dining area, the office was small, cramped, and barely fitted a desk. Stacked cardboard boxes stood against the walls, and a desk filled the rest of the space, its surface buried beneath a laptop, stationery, and sheets of purchase orders. There was a single office chair behind the desk, and none for visitors—not that Wyatt would expect many people in here.
Raph shoved his hands in his pockets, breathing in the trace of magnolia in the air.
A few framed photos hung around the room—Wyatt with Hazel at an amusement park, Wyatt with Penny and Hazel in a forest, Wyatt with Hazel and the chef, Sam, at a beach.
Was Wyatt seeing anyone? Raph realized that he didn’t know. He hadn’t smelled another alpha’s scent on Wyatt’s skin, but Wyatt’s alpha could’ve been away. Or was that Sam guy his boyfriend?
The door opened just as something rolled through Raph’s gut, hot and fierce. I can’t be jealous over my brother. Raph turned, eyebrows rising when Wyatt stepped around him, gingerly holding a stick between layers of toilet paper. A pregnancy test kit.
His stomach flipped. “Are you...?”
Wyatt’s lips thinned. “Penny says I am. I... I think I might be. We’ll see what this says.”
Wyatt set the stick down on the desk, its wet end capped in clear pink plastic. The windows on the kit were still blank. Raph tried to ignore his thudding pulse; instead, he looked at Wyatt’s lips, the way they were pink and damp, and so very kissable.
He wasn’t in a rut anymore, but he couldn’t help this attraction, the way his instincts told him how right Wyatt was.
He was a sick, sick person for thinking that. For possibly getting his brother pregnant.
“Fuck,” Raph muttered, stepping closer. Why was he so damn attracted to Wy? “If it’s—If it’s positive, are you keeping it?”
At that question, the uncertainty in Wyatt’s eyes vanished. “Yeah.”
Raph swore.
“You’ve seen Hazel,” Wyatt said, lifting his chin. “I can’t abandon my child.”
“No, that’s not what I meant,” Raph said. Wyatt wanted to keep the baby. That was fine. But Wyatt didn’t also have to look like the perfect omega, the one Raph had been looking for all his life. “I can’t leave you to raise it alone.”
Wyatt paused with his lips parted, his gaze darting between Raph’s eyes. “I can’t have your name on its birth certificate.”
Briefly, Raph pictured Raphael Fleming and Wyatt Fleming on the official document, his gut curdling. Maybe it would’ve been fine elsewhere. In Meadowfall, people would recognize their names. “Yeah, no. We can’t. But I’m not gonna let you ruin your rep with another bastard child.”
“I don’t have much of a reputation left, if you’ve noticed.” Wyatt gave a wry smile. He leaned back into his seat, the plastic squeaking. “I had to build everything from scratch after I left home.”
Raph winced—that had been a failure on his part. “I know.”
But Wyatt had his own business now, had his loyal customer base, and Raph could only imagine how much blood, sweat, and tears Wyatt had put into his drive-in. For someone Raph had grown used to protecting, Wyatt had come a long ways.
“So I’ll raise the baby myself. If—If you want to help, that’s fine, I guess.” Wyatt shrugged, glancing at the pregnancy test. “I just... don’t know how to tell everyone else about it. Like Hazel. Or Penny.”
“Are you telling your boyfriend?” Raph asked, so he could convince himself that Wyatt didn’t need him anymore. “The chef in the kitchen.”
“Sam? He’s my best friend. Omega.” Wyatt smiled crookedly. “Last week wouldn’t have happened if I had a boyfriend.”
A hopeful flutter rose in Raph’s chest. “So that means—”
“Do you have a family?” Wyatt asked, his smile falling away. “If you do, you really shouldn’t be here—”
“No, I don’t.”
“—and we should stop seeing each...” Wyatt trailed off, meeting his eyes.
“You wanna keep seeing me?” Raph asked, holding his breath. He shouldn’t. But they were stepbrothers, and maybe they should patch the relationship they used to have. Maybe he was just making excuses, because he wanted to hold Wyatt again. “I’m not going to abandon you or the baby.”
Wyatt relaxed then, his smile warm and soft. “Promise?”
“Yeah. I promise.”
All he’d intended was to squeeze Wyatt’s shoulder. Or touch his hair. But as Raph rounded the desk, his gut said Yes. And he couldn’t help running the backs of his fingers along Wyatt’s jaw, his knuckles catching on newly-shaved skin. Wyatt tipped his cheek into Raph’s touch.
“You’re not...” You’re not put off by this? Raph’s voice died in his throat when Wyatt purred, nuzzling the back of his hand. “Wy—”
“Shh.” Wyatt’s eyes fluttered shut, the fluorescent light glinting on his lashes.
“Gods, we can’t do this.” Raph drew his hand back, his heart pounding too hard. Touching Wyatt felt good. Felt right. And Wyatt’s daughter was out there; she knew who Raph was. “We’re brothers, Wy. You have a family.”
“I don’t have an alpha,” Wyatt murmured, so quietly that Raph thought he might’ve heard wrong. “I haven’t found one who fits just right.”
And now Raph couldn’t breathe, too. “You’re doing this with me.”
“Because you feel right.”
Raph closed his eyes, his breath staggering. This couldn’t be happening, Wyatt wanting him. Wyatt needing an alpha. “Fuck. I’ll just—Just let me lock the door.”
They shouldn’t be locked up in a room together.
“Fine,” Wyatt breathed. When he opened his eyes, his irises were a dark green-brown, his pupils dilated.
Raph strode the three steps to the door, locked it, and returned to his side, glancing at the test kit.
Two blue lines.
“What does that mean?” he asked, nodding at the stick, even if he already knew.
Wyatt’s breath shuddered out of him. “I’m pregnant.”
Raph swallowed hard. “And that—that means...”
Wyatt stood in a smooth motion, the chair rolling away, his eyes clouded. “It means I need comforting,” he whispered, stepping closer to Raph. The magnolia of his scent welled up around them, laced with honey and musk, and Raph was moving before he could think, his arms sliding around Wyatt, his lips grazing Wyatt’s cheek.
“Gods, this is wrong,” he whispered, even as Wyatt leaned into him, his body slender, his hair smelling like broth and sweat and omega.
“We’ll talk about right and wrong later,” Wyatt said, his thin fingers threading into Raph’s hair, pulling him forward. “Kiss me.”
It should feel wrong, and it should feel like the gates of hell were opening, swallowing him down. Instead, Wyatt’s lips parted for him, damp and soft. Raph groaned, sealing their mouths together, swallowing Wyatt’s moan. He backed them up against a wall, smoothing his hand down Wyatt’s spine, holding him close. Wyatt arched against him, his tongue sliding hot against Raph’s.
In his arms, Wyatt didn’t feel like a stepbrother. He felt like an omega, like someone who desired Raph, who needed him. Blood pooled between Raph’s legs; his pants grew tight. And Wyatt dragged him closer, his breath heavy on Raph’s cheek, his hand easing past the waistband of Raph’s pants.
“Fuck,” Raph hissed, rutting into his soft, warm palm. This was wrong. And he wanted to pin Wyatt up against the wall, grind into his hips, make their cocks touch. Wyatt slipped into his mouth. Raph jerked his head away, leaving Wyatt panting, his lips kiss-swollen. “Damn it, Wy. We’re fucking stepbrothers!”
Wyatt panted damply, his own cock a hard line against Raph’s thigh. His lips quirked in a smile. “We’re fucking, aren’t we?”
Raph’s cock throbbed. It was where they were headed, if they didn’t stop this right now. Wyatt’s fingers swirled around his tip, sending a jolt of pleasure down his nerves. Raph’s breath rushed out of his lung
s. He pressed his forehead against Wyatt’s shoulder, nuzzling where Wyatt’s shoulder met his neck, and he smelled most strongly of magnolia.
A silvery scar lay right over Wyatt’s scent gland, thin and slightly curved—a bite mark. The sight of it made Raph’s instincts snarl.
“Whose mark is that?” he growled, baring his teeth. He shouldn’t be asking; Wyatt wasn’t his omega.
Wyatt glanced away. “Max left it.”
How dare that slimeball bond with Wyatt, and then throw him out? After the things he’d done to Wy... Raph’s fingers tightened on Wyatt’s hip. “He doesn’t fucking deserve you.”
“It’s not like I can change it,” Wyatt said, his eyes darkening with regret. “I’ve already left him.”
Raph pressed his nose to Wyatt’s neck, filling his lungs with magnolia. It was a scent from an age ago, from the years he’d watched Wyatt learn how to wink and smile, playing at the piano, his fingers dancing across the keys. The sweet, mellow scent shouldn’t ignite his body the way it did. “I won’t hurt you.”
“I know,” Wyatt murmured, slipping his hand out of Raph’s pants, stroking his side. “You tried protecting me from Grandma.”
“Didn’t work very well, did it?” Raph kissed his jaw, his cheek, his earlobe. This felt right, too.
“I’m sorry I never spoke to you,” Wyatt said. “I just... I couldn’t. I didn’t want you to get involved with me, after I tried to seduce you. I’m sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be.” Raph pressed a kiss to his lips. “I care for you, you know. I was so fucking pissed when I found out about Max.”
Wyatt cracked a smile, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “I’m sorry.”
“Stop saying sorry.”
Wyatt sighed. “We’re stepbrothers, Raph. I’m surprised you’re even here. That you’re this close and... well, I’m pregnant.”
Raph’s stomach dropped. Yeah, there was that, too. They should’ve used a condom. Raph shouldn’t have stayed inside him until he couldn’t anymore. “Sorry,” he said.
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