Fresh As A Daisy Omega: A MPREG Omegaverse Romance (Omegas In Bloom Book 1)

by Ava Beringer

  My bedsprings squeaked as I climbed in. I curled up on my side, staring at the space I’d cleared for the alpha in my life.

  “It was all a big dupe,” I said out loud. “All one big tease by the universe.” I couldn’t wait to trash everything so it looked the way it did before. A single, forever-alone person’s mess. My grandma’s quilt was folded up on the edge of the bed. I took it in my hands, running my fingers over the familiar fabric.

  “I feel like I failed you,” I said. “I tried to be myself, but I wasn’t enough. I wanted a baby for this wonderful gift, but my dream slipped out of my fingers in six days.” I clutched it to my chest, taking a deep breath in. It had the familiar, soothing scent of my grandmother, still holding on after all these years, but now it also had a faint whiff of…my alpha. Preston.

  I laid there, numb and unable to sleep, wishing I could cry. The tears wouldn’t come.

  I dragged into work through the back door the next day. I pulled the door open carefully so it only made a soft sweeping sound. I peeked down the hall. The coast was clear; there were voices in the greenhouse, but not in the lounge. I snuck into the lounge and opened the staff fridge carefully, so that the suck sound was barely audible. I carefully placed my glass lunch containers on the shelf with a slight clink. The longer I could go before they saw me, the better. If I could get away with not speaking to anyone until the store was open, it would be a dream come true. They could tease me while we worked, but they couldn’t drill me for the whole story.

  What was my next move? I had to open the register. I couldn’t stop the safe from beeping as I entered the code and grabbed the petty cash, but as I crept to the front of the store, there was still no one there. Maybe, just maybe, I could-

  “Ahem.” I flinched, my whole body jerking.

  “I’d recognize that sassy throat-clearing anywhere,” I said bitterly. Miguel was here, so I might as well face the music. I turned around and there he was, his arms crossed, his face smug, and his foot tapping. He wasn’t alone. Buster was on his left, an elbow on Miguel’s shoulder. Ginger and Gabe were on his right. Clarke peeked out from behind Buster’s shoulder.

  “Is it safe for us to come near you, or will we catch a heat, too? You’re as radioactive as Chernobyl,” Clarke said. The dam broke and questions flooded out of my friends’ mouths like a tsunami. I held my hands out, trying to fend off the hyenas.

  “Guys. Guys. Guys!” I yelled. There was a pause and a beat of silence. They all stared at me, then Miguel launched back in.

  “We got a call from one Mr. Preston Reid about heat leave.” I groaned. He had taken excellent care of me, including informing everybody at Miguel’s Fabulous Flowers that I wouldn’t be in for a few days.

  “I can’t imagine how much glee that brought you,” I said flatly.

  “On a scale of one to ‘ready to start a cult with him’, how mind-blowing was the sex?” Buster said, waving his orange-clad arms. Someone rapped on the front door.

  “Hmm, guess I’d better open the store so I can earn us all a living wage, huh?” Miguel sauntered off to let our first customers of the day in. I crossed my fingers that it would cut their interrogation short.

  “What’s his weird kink? Anyone who wears a suit all the time has a weird kink,” Clarke added. Buster looked his tweed suit up and down. Clarke remembered what he was wearing and rolled his eyes.

  “Not me.”

  “Mmmmm-hmm,” Buster hummed. Ginger waved a hand at me.

  “Let me see how you walk. I want to know if you got a limp out of the deal,” She said. Gabe shook his head, exasperated.

  “I told them not to make a big deal out of this, but you know how they are.” That was Gabe, always the big brother, protecting us all, but especially me.

  “Thanks, Gabe, I appreciate it.”

  “I was at least going to get you behind closed doors before I interrogated you.” So much for my protective big brother.

  “Can we please not do this?” I begged. Miguel returned with the patron in tow; a tiny, hunched-over woman who was at least eighty.

  “Mind watching the register?” Miguel asked her. “We’re about to give our friend the third degree about his heat with the sexy, successful alpha of his dreams.”

  “Uh, okay…” The old woman croaked. She made a confused face and her skin crinkled like white crepe paper. Ginger was already pulling me toward the lounge.

  “Don’t worry,” she promised the old lady, “We’ll give you the blow-by-blow.”

  “Get it?” Gabe crowed. “The blow-by-blow? Colby here does.” Gabe nudged me with his elbow. I dropped my face in my hands as they hustled me into the lounge. I would die of mortification telling them how things ended with Preston.

  “You guys are vultures,” I whimpered. “I’m a bloated corpse, rotting in the Serengeti sun and you’re all picking my bones clean.”

  “I’m okay with being a vulture. A vulture of couture culture,” Buster said, doing a little vogue and runway walk.

  “One question and we’ll leave you alone,” Ginger said.

  “Promise?” I asked.

  “Promise.”

  “Get those crossed fingers out from behind your back.” I pointed at her and she stomped like a toddler and dropped her hand.

  “You’re no fun.”

  “One question.” I held up a single finger.

  “How frickin’ good was it?” Ginger burst out. I sighed, my eyes rolling back as the physical sensations and explosive emotions floated back to me.

  “He turned me into an astronaut and took me to outer space. Happy?”

  “Not even close. Is there any intelligent life on Mars?” Clarke asked. I chuckled dryly.

  “It sure wasn’t me, in the heat of the moment.”

  “And what about his size?” Buster asked, holding his hands apart to indicate length. “Please tell me he had a five-dollar foot-long!”

  “Size Queen B,” Gabe said with a laugh.

  “Indeed,” Buster replied with a smug nod. “I don’t let just any ship dock in my harbor, honey. So, give us the deets. Length. Girth. Shape. Was it curved? Stumpy? Long and skinny with a big head, like a shitake mushroom?” I let my head drop back.

  “You guys, I said one question. You promised.”

  “Ginger promised,” Gabe said. “Come on, you know you wanna spill. You always make us work for it, but in the end it comes out.” It’s different this time, I thought.

  Clarke laid a slim hand on my shoulder. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” His face was empathetic. He meant what he said, it opened me up a little.

  “I do kinda wanna talk about it,” I said. Clarke held his hands up like he was getting robbed.

  “Hey, no pressure…But maybe a little teensy bit of pressure.” The dam broke and a flood of words spilled out. I rubbed my face with both my palms.

  “It was the best damn sex of my life. I’m down three pounds, my thighs, abs, and glutes are aching…” The place erupted in screams. Everybody scrambled for snacks and settled in on the plush pink couch.

  “I bet something else is aching, too,” Miguel said, stuffing a cookie in his mouth just as a blue-haired head poked in the door.

  “Kids? Somebody gave me sixty dollars cash for a forty-five dollar bouquet. I can’t open the register.” It was the little old lady we left up front. Miguel waved a hand.

  “Give them a twenty back. They get a good-timing discount.” The old woman nodded solemnly. “Oh, and make yourself a coffee, have a Danish, whatever you want.”

  “Thanks, bossman.” She gave Miguel a serious nod and a thumbs up and disappeared from the doorway. Everybody turned their focus back to me, staring expectantly.

  “I never felt anything like that before. Ever.” I wrapped my arms around myself, needing some comfort. I couldn’t hide the pain anymore. Gabe tilted his head, his care-taking instincts taking over.

  “Honey,” he said softly, “I know he’s far away, but you can’t just let a connection l
ike that go.”

  “Well, I did, okay? You can’t build a lifetime on six days,” I snapped. Miguel held his spread palms up.

  “How do you know? Crazier things have happened. You gave up before you had a chance.” That stung.

  “I know you guys are in love with the idea of this guy, but the fantasy is too far-fetched.” I was raising my voice and I knew it. “I’ve been hurt too many times to believe in the fairy tale. I can’t lose again, especially not with him. It would break me. Can we just drop it?” My voice was tearful as I struggled to choke down my emotions.

  My friends all exchanged looks. Then they jumped to their feet, hell bent on coming together for me. Five pairs of arms swallowed me in a tight hug.

  “We’re sorry, Colby. We can be a bit much sometimes,” Gabe said as he rubbed my back. Buster harrumphed.

  “Speak for yourself,” he grumbled. Everybody stared at him. “Fine, fine, I’m a livewire, baby, what can I say?”

  “You can say you’re sorry to Colby,” Clarke sniffed. Buster nodded.

  “I am sorry, little brother. I think we all owe you an apology.” The gang murmured apologies and we stood there for a long while, them holding me up and keeping me warm in my time of need. That’s what found families are for, right?

  Clarke pulled back from the group.

  “We do need to ask an important question. What about protection?” I blushed furiously.

  “It, ah, never really came up.” That was the truth. My heat snuck up on me, and our coupling was spur of the moment. The other truth was, I didn’t exactly discourage Preston from seeding me. My instincts wanted it, my heart wanted it, and my brain was left out of the equation. It was the most irresponsible thing I’d ever done.

  Ginger said, “What if you got a baby in there, baby?”

  “I don’t, okay? I don’t.” That was my immediate response, but in the wild and hopeful part of my heart I was well on the way to becoming a father, specifically carrying Preston Reid’s child. The part of me that called him “my alpha” and believed in fairy tales wanted to have his baby, wanted a happily ever after just like the romance novels. Realistic, cynical Colby knew it would be a disaster.

  Finally, we relieved the elderly customer from the register. Her name was Edna and she was thrilled to have a job. She offered to work for us whenever we wanted, as long as we took her recently-replaced hip into account. The work day went on as usual. No more fairy-tale alphas blew in with the rain.

  My friends knew when to stop pushing and just support me, and for the next few weeks they did just that as I fell into a pit of depression. I waited and waited to get over Preston. It just wasn’t happening.

  I stayed in denial for two months before I finally peed on the little white stick. Immediately, it showed two blue lines.

  I was having Preston’s baby after all. What was I going to do now?

  9

  Colby

  I checked myself in the mirror, smoothing my hand over my not-quite-flat belly. At eighteen weeks along, I was just beginning to show. Despite the fear of being a single parent, the shame I felt, and the struggles ahead of me, I was excited for this baby. I was glad it was Preston’s, in a way. I chose to believe that the Preston who bought me a whole store full of flowers was the same one who fathered my child, as opposed to the alpha who was in a rush to get away from me at the end.

  I pulled a not-so-tight t-shirt over my head and headed to work. I still hadn’t figured out how to tell the Fabulous Flowers Family. They weren’t stupid, and by now it might be an open secret. Either way, I wasn’t ready to talk about it.

  The front door chimed as I walked in.

  “Sweetheart!” Buster exclaimed, holding out his arms. He wore a neon green cape today. Where did he find that stuff? “Come here and give me a big hug!”

  “I can’t get away with telling you no, can I?” I joked as I hugged him. It was a tight, loving hug and I needed it, but I held back a little; my belly might be obvious. Gabe came out of the lounge with a massive tote bag. It made a clunk as he set it on the counter.

  “Colby, honey, are you hungry? I brought you a goodie bag with some of my homemade preserves, applesauce, and hummus, plus some tomatoes and carrots from my garden at home. Better to eat organic. Especially now.” Buster elbowed his side and they exchanged a look.

  “Applesauce? Preserves?” I said, mouth already watering. Gabe beamed.

  “Yup. Preserves, and homemade chunky applesauce, guacamole, hummus-”

  “Where? Let me at it.” I made grabby hands and Gabe pulled out huge jars filled to the brim with his creations. I ripped through them, looking for the applesauce. Gabe held out a spoon for me, then took an exaggerated step back.

  “I don’t want to get caught up in the carnage.” I spun the top off the mason jar and scooped a heaping spoonful into my mouth.

  “Mmmm,” I moaned. Gabe’s chunky applesauce always tasted more like apple pie filling, but today the flavors exploded on my tongue even more.

  “This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted,” I said, my cheeks full like a chipmunk.

  “I should have made you another jar.” His eyes twinkled with amusement. I scooped up a big, bright tomato and took a bite out of it. I moaned again.

  “This is so good! What’s your recipe?”

  “Uh, only the highest-quality dirt?” I spooned applesauce onto the hole in the tomato and took a big bite. Gabe and Buster winced.

  “Thanks, Gabe. Everybody knows your tomatoes are the best.”

  Miguel blew in from the greenhouse.

  “Did I just hear you say someone else’s tomatoes were better than mine?”

  “Mine!” Gabe said, setting his hand on his hips. “What are you gonna do about it?” Miguel tapped Gabe’s cheek with a gardening glove.

  “I challenge you to a duel.”

  “Gonna fight with our swords, are we?” Gabe said, gyrating his hips. Buster and I snickered. Miguel turned to me, all business.

  “Colby, you know you’re welcome to any produce and herbs we have here, whether you want to grow some or pick some. Please tell me you know this.” I faked a pout.

  “I know, I know. Stop being such a kind and generous boss and friend, will ya? Jeez.” Miguel threw an arm around my shoulders.

  “Gotta make sure you’re well-fed.” He kissed the top of my head.

  “Speaking of feeding you,” Buster interjected, waving a neon-green sleeve, “I made you some greens.” All three of us froze, eyes wide.

  “With turkey tails?” I asked with eyes full of hope.

  “You know it.” We rushed Buster, all talking over each other, trying to be the first to get to his marvelous greens. Ginger ran in from the lounge, her shoes slapping on the floor.

  “I heard Buster say ‘greens’ so here I am.”

  “They’re mine,” I growled like a honey badger. “I’m not sharing. Tell ‘em, Buster.”

  “They’re Colby’s, so you scavengers better back off.” Buster shooed them. Ginger pouted, stomping a foot and going limp through her shoulders.

  “Then when are we having another Soul Food Saturday?” I barely heard her. I scrambled for the lounge, a half-eaten tomato dripping applesauce all over my hand. I had to get my hands on those greens. How would they taste with the preserves?

  I stopped in the doorway. Clarke looked up from where he was packing a gift bag, his face dropping. He’d been caught red-handed. There were piles of gifts all over the place. Baby things.

  “Congratulations!” My friends called from behind me. The waterworks started immediately.

  “You guys knew?” I blubbered. All of their eye-rolling made me dizzy.

  “We threw this little shindig for you ‘cause we’re tired of waiting,” Miguel said. “What were you gonna do, squat down and pop the baby out in the greenhouse, then say, ‘oh yeah, I’m having a baby, just so you know’?”

  “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

  “Please say you like it,” Clarke said
from the floor. He was buried in pink tissue paper. “I almost self-amputated my finger with pink ribbon this morning.”

  “I love it. Really, I do.” I shed a few more tears. “I have a guess who decided on the pink.”

  “Guilty as charged,” Miguel crowed as they buried me in hugs. Clarke stood up and swept all the tissue paper off himself, brushing off his sweater vest as he walked up to me.

  “Now that we’re done pretending we haven’t known for three months, can we introduce ourselves?” He said, exasperated.

  “I’m afraid to say yes, but I’m even more afraid to say no.” I laughed as they descended on me. It was trademark House of Snark enthusiasm, but instead of sassy it was sweet. They cooed at and talked to and rubbed my belly.

  “You would think I wasn’t even here,” I said, like I wasn’t lapping up the attention.

  “You don’t matter any more. You’re just the vessel,” Ginger said. She smoothed her hand below the slightest roundness of my belly. “I’m trying to map out how much you’re starting to show. You’re not quite flat anymore, are you, honey? We’ve got ourselves a new House of Snark prince or princess on the way.”

  “We’re just making up for lost time, sweetie,” Gabe told me. He was inspecting me, too.

  “Why don’t you open your gifts?” Miguel took my elbow and led me toward the pile. “A bunch of the stuff came from Heartstone. You know we’re always popping out babies over there. I picked up a bunch of stuff from that cute little boutique baby store The Crib, too.”

  I got a stack of Carter’s snarky onesies, a neon-purple, rhinestone-covered baby bag from Buster, a three-in-one stroller, carseat, and carrier from Gabe, and a little counting toy with colorful beads on metal rows from Clarke.

  “You’re never too young for an abacus,” he said with a firm nod. Miguel laid a hand on my shoulder.