His Pretend Omega: M/M Non-Shifter Alpha/Omega MPREG (Cafe Om Book 2)

by Harper B. Cole

  “Just trying it out.” He shrugged before leaning in close, his hand still enveloping mine. “Do you like it?”

  “Meh.” I feigned ambivalence.

  “I’ll just have to think of something better, then.” He rearranged our hands so our fingers intertwined, a sigh of contentment escaping me before I schooled my emotions, “Ready, Chris?”

  “I am.” Or as ready as I’d ever be. This felt huge. It was huge.

  “Then shall we?”

  I nodded in silent reply and we made our way out the door and I prepared myself for the inevitable hand drop. After all, it was only for show. Why keep up the pretense?

  “The car is around back. Construction made it a bit of a scavenger hunt for a decent spot.”

  The construction had hit Café Om badly, not that you could tell by the way my boss, Abrar, acted. The chain was growing, but this store was the flagship. It still did alright, but instead of needing seven of us in the afternoon, now we only needed two or three. It worked well for me, with the exhaustion early pregnancy brought, but it was not ideal for profits.

  “They keep saying it’s almost done, but it feels like it’ll never be done.” It would, eventually, I was sure. We hadn’t had to hire anyone new in almost a year. The only reason I was promoted was that the last shift leader got mated to Abrar’s brother-in-law and left to raise their family. I wouldn’t have ever pegged Jace for a stay-at-home dad, but he seemed happy about the prospect when he resigned.

  “Sounds about right.” Aiden mused as he pulled us to a stop in front of a Maserati. “This is me.”

  “I remember,” I said, daring to stroke my hand down the side of the car. “Such a beautiful car.”

  “It was a gift.” He reached over, still holding onto my hand, and opened the passenger door for me. I’d finally meet a gentleman, just after I became unmarketable. Only me.

  “I’m happy with a balloon and card,” I mumbled as I climbed into the proffered seat, letting go of his hand far sooner than I wanted.

  “You deserve so much more than that.” He nudged the seatbelt to me, as if I didn’t know how to manage. No, that was unfair, he was being a good alpha protecting a pregnant omega. That was something to appreciate and not scold. I took it as graciously as I could with a smile plastered on my face.

  “You don’t even really know me.” My seatbelt clicked, and I was rewarded with a smile. I liked that far too much. My hormones were certainly kicking in full throttle.

  “No, but what I do know, I like a lot.” He leaned on the door as if ready to shut it.

  “And what do you know? That I’m a nice submissive omega who listened to you and let you take the lead?” Dammit. I was going to piss him off, and then he’d kick me out. Where would I be then? I came into this with eyes wide open. There was no sense in feeling angry that I couldn’t have this man and then take it out on him. Why did I feel the need to set myself up for hurt?

  “No.” His voice was dead serious and drooling of lust. “I learned quite a bit about you before today. Before that night out at my dads’,” he confessed just as he shut the door, effectively ending the conversation.

  My heart was not leaving this fake mating unscathed. Thankfully, my heart was bound up in this little one I couldn’t even sense yet. I just had to focus on her. Or him. Whatever pieces I left behind with Aiden would be more than filled by my child. I hoped.

  11

  Aiden

  Ethan had been trying to be subtle, texting me all afternoon about work, sliding in references and questions about why I needed a moving service. I wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to Chris. He'd been after me almost as hard as my dads to settle down, though he said it was so I would stop mucking around in parts of the business that I didn't know anything about. I already knew he wouldn’t approve of this fake mating scheme. For him, the risks would be higher than the rewards.

  "How was your day?" I asked Chris, breaking the silence that had fallen since my last words. I'd regretted them the moment they were out. They made me seem like a stalker.

  Chris groaned. "Long. Boring." He didn't sound nervous, so that was a plus. I wanted to take his hand again, but the stop and go city traffic required that I keep a hand on the stick shift constantly. "How about yours?" he asked.

  "Nothing big. The movers should have finished by now, and they said they'd leave your keys at my place. Do we need to turn them in anywhere?"

  "Already?" he seemed surprised. "Uh, huh. I honestly don't know. Neither I or any of my neighbors have been able to get a hold of the landlord since we got the notice we had to evacuate..."

  I nodded. "Well, if you're worried about it, you can hold on to them. Otherwise, we can just toss them in the trash."

  "Were you able to, ah..."

  I stole a quick glance at Chris and had to hold back my smile at his blush. The last thing I wanted was for him to think I was laughing at him.

  "I got there before the movers and packed things up like you asked me to."

  "Thanks," he mumbled.

  "We'll have to stop in at security for them to register you so the doormen know you're allowed in and register a private code for you to access my apartments." My mind sped through everything that needed to be done to make Chris feel at home. "I had the movers put your furniture in storage for now, but if there's anything you want brought into the apartment, just let me know and I'll send someone to get it tomorrow. And I wasn't sure what you liked to eat and I pretty much only eat my shakes these days, so I guessed and ordered some food for the fridge. I'll show you how to place an order tomorrow so you don't have to wait on me. Um, what else is there..."

  Chris rested his hand on my arm. "That's... that's plenty, I'm sure."

  His hand soothed the nervous energy that had been building in me all afternoon. "Sorry, I know I tend to ramble on when I get excited. I've just been worrying for weeks about to handle this thing with my dads, and it's hard to believe I've finally found an answer."

  He smiled, but it seemed strained. Was he hurting? Tired?

  "Exactly how far along in your pregnancy are you?" I asked.

  "Ten weeks," Chris answered, leaning back into his seat and closing his eyes, his hand sliding from my arm.

  I realized I really didn't have a clue what that meant in the grand scheme of things. I knew it took nine months to grow a baby, give or take, I knew how they were made and how they were born, but all that in between stuff? I'd never had reason to question it before. Had we even covered that phase in any bio? Granted, if they had, I'd probably forgotten anything I might have learned once I took the test. If it wasn't interesting or irrelevant to me, I didn't retain it. But now I was cursing myself because it was suddenly very relevant and very interesting.

  "We're almost there," I said, the thoughts in my brain spinning faster than I could share. I had some internet searching to do tonight, that was for sure.

  I pulled to a stop in front of my building and tossed the keys to the valet. Chris stared around in bewilderment, and I tried to put myself in his shoes, to see how he saw it. To me, it was nothing compared to my dads' place in the country. They refused to come into the city for more than three days at a time now. "We paid our dues," my father said. "This damn city doesn't have any claim to me anymore." My dad just smiled indulgently at him, the way he always did when my father got wound up in one of his proclamations and would steer the topic of conversation to their new horse.

  But what would Chris see? What kind of home did he come from? I shook the thoughts out of my head. Asking was easier than imagining. But Chris seemed exhausted. Questions could wait for later. I did, however, pull out my phone and add that to my list of questions.

  In less than fifteen minutes, we had Chris registered with the front desk and programmed his access code. I ushered him into the elevator, eager to get him somewhere quiet where he could rest.

  "Right here is where you put your access code." I showed him the number pad to the side of the elevator floor buttons. "O
nce you enter that in, you can press twenty-four, and it will open right into my apartment. If you don't put your code in, it will beep annoyingly at you."

  "Speaking from experience?" Chris asked.

  "Very much so."

  Chris was quiet on the ride up, not what I was used to from the cheerful barista. I held my tongue, the questions inside me firing so fast I couldn't choose which one to lead with.

  The elevator dinged and opened into my entry way.

  12

  Chris

  I will not stare with my mouth wide open. I will not stare with my mouth wide open. I will not stare with my mouth wide open.

  Overwhelmed was an understatement of mammoth proportions. When Aiden said he would be cut off, I had figured he had money. I never for the life of me guessed he had this kind of money. Sure, he came into the café well dressed, and his car was the stuff of wet dreams, but the wealth before me was outside my comprehension.

  What he must’ve thought as he entered my place. It had creeped me out, and I hadn't grown up even middle class. Stepping foot in a building like that had to have been a first for Chris. To give him credit, he hadn’t said a word. His wealth didn’t seem to be part of his identity the way it did with so many of the more well-to-do customers we had at Om.

  My entire apartment would easily fit in his place’s foyer. Why anyone would need that much space to stow their keys and kick off their shoes was beyond me. I gently toed off my shoes and Aiden took my hand to show me the rest of the place. It should’ve been awkward to be touching in this familiar way after the short time we had actually known each other, as in today, not hire long we’d simply seen each other at the café, and the reason we actually were here, but it felt comforting, grounding, and I appreciated it more than I cared to admit to myself.

  “This is the kitchen.” It was as if I had walked into the cover of a home magazine. I guess I assumed that Aiden would have a typical alpha bachelor pad complete with stainless steel appliances and hard lines. Instead it was a ginormous country style kitchen that the Pioneer Woman would have been glad to call home, complete with white enameled cast iron sink. It was a place you could see family gathering to chat as grandma finished her quilt in one of the sitcoms on television. I was in love.

  “The refrigerator.” He grabbed the handle of the retro designed appliance and pulled it open as if I needed instructions. That was when it hit me what he was actually showing me. The entire thing was stocked from top to bottom. “I tried to get a bit of everything, not knowing if you had any cravings or things that made you not want to eat. I have to be honest here, I don’t know much about pregnancies.” His cheeks turned a tad rosy at his admission. He had done this for me. For us. My hand instinctively found my belly.

  “I really don’t either.” Sad, but very much true. “This one kind of caught me by surprise. There’s enough food here to feed an army.” I quickly changed the subject before leaving the door open enough for him to ask further about Will. It wasn’t something I was ready to think about much less discuss even if I had inadvertently done so.

  “And this is the freezer.” He had the decency to look half way embarrassed as he opened the cabinet façade freezer beside the fridge. This one I did need him to show me. Inside, once again, was an entire worth of food. One thing was for sure, my baby wasn’t going to be going hungry.

  “You do know I won’t break,” I teased, but with purpose. I needed him to know being pregnant didn’t make me incapable, especially if he thought the food he bought fit into the realm of reasonable.

  “You do know I’m an alpha and my need to protect and provide is not something I have the best control over.” He checked my shoulder playfully, but his point was clear. He was working from instinct and it was as new to him as it was to me, so I should give him some slack.

  “I’m not yours though,” I said softly. Not really, although it was feeling more real with every little thing he did and I had to shut that down quick if I was going to get through this unscathed.

  “You are for the next while.” He shrugged as he closed the door, almost as if it was as much of a realization to him as it was to me.

  “I just don’t want to impose more than I am.” I leaned into him and his arm wrapped around my shoulder. Not the best way to prove my point.

  “That is not something that is happening, let me assure you.” He gave a slight squeeze and the tension that was building over my guilt at this inequitable arrangement began to shed.

  “If you’re sure,” I conceded. He had told me from the get-go I could walk at any time. It was only half true given I had no place to go, but technically I was in the same position whether I was here or not in that regard.

  “I am.” His arm fell from my shoulder, but before I could process the loss I felt at that, he took my hand in his and began to lead us out of the room. “Now let’s get the rest of the tour over with. You look exhausted.”

  I was. That was the hardest part of this pregnancy so far. The morning sickness had lasted only a week, thankfully. I was just exhausted. All. The. Time. If I had unlimited vacation time, I would be blowing it all for the extra sleep. Instead I was hoarding it for when my little one arrived.

  “I’m fine. It’s just the part of pregnancy where seven o’clock feels like two am is all.”

  He stopped us short, watching my face closely as if looking for something.

  “Completely normal.”

  “How about this—” He seemed to find what he was looking for and his face brightened slightly. “I’ll show you the rest of the place and you can rest while I make you something to eat.”

  “Sandwiches?” I might have been teasing, but in all honesty, a sandwich slathered in mayo sounded perfect. My little bean seemed to be all about the mayo lately.

  “I like to get fancy.” He winked.

  “I like sandwiches.” I winked back. Flirting was most assuredly not my best idea. Yet there I was once again flirting up my pretend boyfriend. I shook off those thoughts as he showed me a few more rooms. The place was freaking huge.

  The living room was more what I expected from him. Huge soft leather couches and recliners. It was the perfect place for snuggling up and watching a movie or curling up with a good book. I gave a quick look around to see if he had any gaming systems and if reading my mind, he pointed to where they lived. I let out a giggle, which was embarrassing but his warm smile told me he didn’t mind.

  The next handful of rooms were less interesting; A couple of bathrooms, a couple of guest rooms that looked more like a hotel than a home, and a formal sitting room that looked like it was probably not ever entered except for the occasional dusting and vacuuming.

  “This is your bedroom.” He pulled us to a stop as he pushed open the door. “Well ‘ours,’ but I’ll sleep in the guest room while you're here.”

  I swallowed before stepping inside, head down. After all, maybe all of the bedrooms were the same. Maybe this too was hotel central. My head wasn’t fully up before I was slammed with how very wrong that conjecture was. The bedroom was home. Not my home, but his for sure. The bed was donned with a homemade quilt, or at least it didn’t look like one off the rack at the department store. The wood of the furniture was a warm cherry that matched the hominess of the quilt. It was amazing and nothing I expected. Aiden was a man of many layers. That was for sure.

  “I don’t want to take your bedroom.” Lies. I did, but not from him, with him. That was the worst train of thought I could go on and even in my exhausted state, my cock began to stir.

  “Please let me do this.” He squeezed both shoulders from behind, reassurance flooding into me. “It feels better having you in the better space, one not resembling the latest and greatest tourist destination and I already had your clothes put away in here.” He tilted his head in the direction of the closet door before heading there himself, and I duly followed. “You can’t honestly say you’re asking an alpha to ignore his instincts to protect a pregnant omega? I can’t change those
instincts.”

  I blushed and peered into the closet. “Your closet is the size of a small nation.” I was barely exaggerating. The back wall was hung with his suits, shirts, etc. and had built-in shelves and drawers for the rest of his clothes. It wasn’t even half full and the man had more clothes than most people ever dreamed. On the left side were a bunch of moving boxes, probably mine, paired with a bench and a wardrobe valet for his suits at the end of the night. An image of me removing said suit and placing it gently over the back of the valet flashed through my mind. That was not good. Thinking of undressing Aiden was bad. Or so I tried to convince myself.

  “Our closet and yeah the people before me must’ve had serious clothes issues. As you can see, I use barely any of it. Your boxes are here except the one you asked me to get. That one is already in the nightstand.” He spoke as it were one word near the end as if making the words come out faster made them less embarrassing for me. I had to give him credit. He tried.

  “Kill me now.”

  “I quite like having you around so I think I’ll give a hard pass.” He stepped out of the closet and I scurried to follow. Had he meant what he said? I’d not known him to lie, but then again I’d not really known him at all. “There’s plenty of room in here if you want some of your furniture brought in to make it your own.”

  My mind immediately went to the bookcase that my grandfather had made for my grandmother for their wedding. She had given it to me when he passed which was shortly before she followed him. It didn’t fit into this design at all… yet it did, in an odd way. Probably because of the quilt, I thought, searching for something that justified the connection. The bookcase was ratty with age and lack of my grandfather’s skill, but it was made with love, much like a real quilt.

  “You wouldn’t mind?”

  “Why would I?”

  I could think of a hundred reasons, but I kept quiet.