A Bundle of Mannies

by Lorelei M. Hart

  He grabbed the bottle of water I’d yet to open and skipped off into the house.

  “What exactly are we having that gave him orgasm face?” Beck held a new bottle of water in front of me, and this time I didn’t just hold it, playing with the label. This time I opened it and took a long swig.

  “Thanks, and it was not orgasm face.” Or maybe it was, but I didn’t want Beck thinking about anyone else’s orgasms. We might not be able to act on our attraction, and it might be as unhealthy as all get out, but I wanted Beck good and single, not so much as imagining being naked with anyone or anyone naked, for that matter. I was a selfish prick. Our current method of dealing with things was not sustainable, but it was the best I could do—the best we could do for the meantime.

  “Agree to disagree?” He held his hand out for my bottle, which I now realized had been one he got for himself, and I handed it to him, watching his lips wrap around the mouth. Yeah, this was not a long-term solution. “What is she making?”

  “Shepherd’s pie. Nothing fancy.”

  “His expression said otherwise.” Because Stan had eaten it before. “What’s left on the list?”

  We spent the next hour ticking off items as Stan found the odd belonging that had been wedged between a drawer or stuck in the top of a closet.

  “Time for dinner!” Stan’s smile grew exponentially, and I’d have laughed if I hadn’t been feeling the same way.

  “Yeah, dinner, and then we need to get the things from our car unloaded into Joey’s.” It still hurt to say my brother’s name, and probably would for many years to come, but I no longer hid from the pain. It just wasn’t healthy and it was no longer just me.

  “Maybe we should do that first, so the kids aren’t up so late.” Stan looked at his phone, his eyes going wide. “Too late for the up-too-late plan.”

  “Yeah, the kids are spending the night. Let’s go eat.” I clapped Stan on the back, and the three of us got into our vehicles and drove to Janice’s where we ate an amazing dinner, laughed about the silly things the kids managed to do in their short time with Deany, the nickname bestowed upon her by Jase when they first met her. And by the time we left, it was nearing ten o’clock and the sitting had allowed all of the soreness from the moving to start settling in, soreness that only increased with the drive to Joey’s.

  “I’m officially old,” I mumbled as I climbed out of the car back at the house.

  “You aren’t old,” Stan teased, holding his own back as well, having arrived first, Beck still not on the scene. “You’re ancient, I’m old. Speaking of old, does Beck mind your age difference?”

  “I didn’t know that age played a role in boss-employee relationships.” Why did Stan have to see through me so completely? Maybe inviting him was a bad idea.

  “He will be here in ten seconds, so quit it with the coy.”

  “Fine, there is an attraction, sure, but he is my employee and a student. Full. Stop.” Which sucked, but so was life.

  “He is not your student, and he is non-trad so you don’t have the legal issue if that is what has you being so cautious.” Did Stan not realize that Professor Perv might only have legal troubles because the students were technically high school students, but that his shtupping kids with the promise of good grades would have destroyed him all the same? Doing anything that came close to looking like that would be career suicide, especially for an omega. We were held to a different standard, which, ironically, was why I had my job in the first place.

  “His being a few years older than most students doesn’t mean he is free game.” I opened the back door and grabbed a box. “And stop already, he is about to arrive.”

  “False.” Stan reached around me to grab a bag from my car. “He’s getting you your favorite gummies as we speak.”

  Of course he was because Beck was perfect in every way but the ones that were non-negotiable. He was still a student and still in my employ. Neither would end in the near future if I had any say about it.

  So, basically, I was screwed—or not screwed as the case may be.

  Three weeks later…

  You have one new voice message received at 5:02 p.m. from Frank: Hello, this is Frank. I have some slightly bad news. There was a backorder on some of your supplies. Don’t worry. Things are still on track to be done by the end of next month. Call if you have any questions.

  Another three weeks later…

  You have one new voice message received at 3:19 p.m. from Frank: Hey, this is Frank again. So—there has been a bit of a snafu, and the electrical inspection on the new addition went great, but the inspector wasn’t happy with the electrical of the original structure. We can fix it...it will just take us a bit longer than anticipated. But, great news, we are still within budget. Call me when you get this.

  Yet another three weeks later…

  You have one new voice message received at 8:12 a.m. from Frank: I call with fantastic new—the inspection of the electrical and plumbing went perfectly. Now we just have to wait for the flooring to come in, and they assured me that it is on its way for real this time. Give me a call if you want a tour of things so far.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Beck

  I’d lost count of how many times Frank had said something was delayed or he needed more time—or more money to fix the house, his “within budget” claims long gone, but his promises of soon were wearing on Carter.

  The kids seemed more somber here, at this house where they once lived with their father.

  And so did I. Days passed, and the tension between Carter and I grew thicker until I wanted him so badly my chest hurt every time he was near.

  I woke early in the mornings now, just to have some alone time with him. After living with someone, you learn all their little idiosyncrasies.

  Especially when you were fucking head-over-heels in love with them like I was Carter. Yeah, I’d finally made peace with the fact that I was in love with my employer and someone I couldn’t have.

  Fun times.

  I’d ordered Carter some special strawberry-cheesecake-flavored coffee from a place online and paid way too many dollars for it, but it was for him, so it didn’t matter. With my housing and food taken care of by him, most of my money was going into savings anyway, well, after I paid tuition. I popped some cinnamon rolls into the oven while listening for the kettle to whistle so I could grab it right away. The sound would wake the kids, and more than anything I needed time with him—these blips of our day where it was just him and me filled up my tank and kept me going.

  “Good morning,” Carter said groggily later on as I took the cinnamon rolls from the oven and slid his omelet onto a plate. He hated green onions in his, so I made his first.

  “Morning,” I replied and poured the omelet mixture for mine into the pan. He came behind me and looked over my shoulder at the cinnamon rolls. His chest pressed against my back, and I couldn’t breathe even if I wanted to.

  Gods, I wanted this man so badly. And not for another one-night stand. No, I wanted Carter for life.

  “Coffee is ready,” I said, trying to get him to walk away from me before I could no longer fight the urge to press my ass into his groin and see if he felt the same way I did. Over the time we’d been here, I’d caught him staring at my lips and even my ass a few times, but checking me out didn’t equal wanting me like I wanted him.

  “Thanks. It smells different. Did you get a new one?”

  After putting green onions, ham, and cheese into my omelet, I answered, “Yeah, I ordered a different flavor.”

  I heard the crackle of him picking up the bag. “Strawberry Cheesecake? I didn’t even know that was a thing. You—you ordered this for me?”

  Oh, fuck. When he said it like that, I just wanted to fall on my knees in front of him and show him all the things I would do for him.

  “Yeah, you love strawberry cheesecake.” I shrugged one shoulder and slid my own omelet onto my plate and brought all the food to the table. I’d intended to pour my coffe
e but when I turned, he handed me a cup.

  “Three sugars and enough cream to kill someone,” he joked with a smile.

  “Thank you.”

  We sat down and ate a few bites in silence. “Heard from Frank?” The subject was sore but it didn’t feel like a regular morning unless I asked the obligatory question.

  “Floors still being installed. Blah, blah, blah.” He took a huge bite of the cinnamon roll and closed his eyes and moaned. Fuck, he was killing me slowly. “How do you manage to be awake enough every morning to do all this?”

  I took a sip of my coffee. “I enjoy the quiet of the mornings.”

  He nodded. “I like having this time with you, Beck. I look forward to it every day.”

  I nearly spit out my coffee. Yes, Carter and I had flirted but never said anything so straightforward. I had to get myself together. He was probably just saying he liked to have an adult conversation in the mornings. I could’ve been the neighbor and served the same purpose.

  He put his napkin on the table and sighed. “I actually needed to talk to you about something.”

  I swallowed. “Okay.”

  “I spoke to a professor friend of mine last week. And then I talked to the dean. Unless a student is in one of my classes or involved with me in an activity that is official school business, dating is not forbidden. Plus, summer break is coming up, and you won’t technically be a student. And, right now, I’m betting everything on technically.”

  My guts shook. People said nervousness was like butterflies, but hearing those words coming from his mouth was an earthquake in my intestines. Flutters my ass.

  “Carter? What are you saying? Just be straight because I don’t think my heart can take any more guessing.” An unwelcome tear formed in the corner of my eye. He reached under his chair and tugged it until he sat right in front of me.

  “Beck, I would never play with your heart. I asked around and even checked the university handbook for professors because I want to date you—hell, I want to do more than date you, but let’s start there. I know you feel this tension—this absolute magnetic attraction we have for each other. Let’s explore it. Let me explore you, omega.”

  Oh, fuck, he called me omega.

  “What about my job? I work for you, Carter.”

  He nodded. “I understand your concern. But I promise you will still have your job if you and I don’t work out. Those kids love you, and I would never take you from them. Besides, you make great tugboat noises during bathtime. I’ve tried, but I can’t get it just right. You’ll have to stay.”

  I chuckled as a tear fell. “Okay. If you’re sure.”

  His smile lit up his entire face. “I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life. Sweetheart.”

  Chapter Seventeen

  Carter

  My heart pounded so loudly, I feared it would wake the children. I’d done it. I’d told Beck how I felt and, instead of running away or finding a thousand excuses why it would be wrong like I’d feared, he stood there looking at me like he’d just been given the most amazing gift. Like I was the gift.

  I set my hand on the table, and he reached over and held it. Nothing could be more perfect in that moment. We didn’t need to jump in bed or seal it with a kiss, although I’d be lying if I said that night all those years ago hadn’t been the focus of most of my dates with my right hand from the time we parted ways back then.

  No, sitting here, holding hands, we waited for the inevitable door opening, indicating Hannah was ready for her special breakfast, which was only special in that it was her time with us before the chaos that was her siblings. She’d decided if we had special breakfasts she should also, and it reminded me of when I’d wake up really early while we visited my grandparents for no other reason than to eat scrambled eggs with my grandfather before he went to work. I still cherished the memories of those times and, if this was that for Hannah, nothing could make me happier.

  “Finals.” I let out a sigh. “We need to discuss them.” And the joy of our quiet alone time was thwarted by the one thing we hadn’t remembered to discuss since we first realized they would be an issue.

  “Yeah. I only have one that conflicts.” The joys of being at a university where all the same classes had their finals at once to avoid cheating. “Thursday.”

  “That’s not too bad.” I’d figure something out. Probably Janice. She’d been more help than she could ever imagine since that day she came to get me from my lecture hall.

  “I hear the door. Hannah’s up.” Beck went to pull his hand from mine, but I held it firm. “Carter.”

  “Holding hands is not something to hide.” And the kids wouldn’t think anything of it, since we often told them to hold hands as we walked in a store or crossed a street. “It isn’t like we are doing it naked.” My cheeks burned. Oh, how they burned.

  “Okay.” His voice but a whisper. “So about this.” He looked down at our joined hands. “What next?”

  What next? Wasn’t that the ten-thousand-dollar question? If it were up to me, we’d be moving him into the small bedroom I’d taken as my own when I’d been unable to sleep in the master that had once been Joey’s, the wound still too new.

  “Date night?” That was safe and could mean whatever he wanted. Or so I hoped.

  “I like the sound of that.” He leaned across the table, and our lips grazed each other’s, our bodies snapping apart at the sound of the toilet flushing above us. “Hannah.” He half chuckled as he rose, his sleep pants tented. That wouldn’t do.

  “So, in your bio final”—I stayed seated, not ready to stand, the impulse to pull him into my arms too strong—“do they dissect the feral cats in that one?” I knew they didn’t. That was a lab for the next level up from where Beck was, but if that didn’t kill a boner, nothing would.

  “Don’t remind me about that. That’s next semester. Isn’t that antiquated with all the technology now?” He wasn’t wrong, but then again my discipline had to do with reading, not saving lives through modern medicine so what did I know.

  “They used to use a cat farm until the protests.” Why had I brought this up again?

  “And mission accomplished.” He pointed to his pants with a wink. At least he’d figured out what I was doing and didn’t feel like I was disgusting or into animal cruelty or something. “Next time maybe talk about boogers or diaper blowouts or something, okay?”

  And before I could respond, Hannah walked in, her eyes still sleepy and her stuffed unicorn in tow.

  “Morning, wonderful. Sleep well?” Beck knelt down to her level, and she walked into his arms.

  “Morning, Beck.” She hugged him tightly then walked over to me and climbed up on my lap. “Morning, Unc.” Which had somehow become my nickname over the past month. “Is it moving day?”

  Same question every day. And every day it broke my heart to say, “Not today. I promise to tell you as soon as I know.”

  “Hannah, it might not be moving day, but it is cinnamon roll day.” Beck slid a plate with the gooey goodness in front of her, and it did its job distracting her from the move. We needed out of this house of memories. Sure, we were making new ones daily, but that didn’t make it much easier.

  “Let me get you on your big-girl chair so you don’t get all sticky.” She was very much going to need a bath after her morning treat, but the smile on her face made it so worth it. I slid her over to the chair my brother had found that sat up the same height as a highchair without any of the baby features to make a child not want it. Whoever designed it was a genius.

  “Thanks,” she mumbled with her mouth full. I kissed the top of her head.

  “I need to leave for work, now, but after next week, vacation starts, and I will be home a lot,” I promised.

  “Good.” I didn’t know if she was talking about her roll or the fact that I was going to be home for the summer. Her happiness as she munched away was all that mattered.

  “I’ll walk you to the door.” Beck set down his coffee.


  “Let me fill my travel mug first.” To which he responded by handing it to me already filled. When had he managed to do that? “Thanks. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

  “Please don’t find out,” he whispered.

  I gave him a smile intended to show him that I planned to have him around and meandered to the door.

  “What you said…” he hesitantly spoke. “This summer when you’re home.”

  “Please stay.”

  He threw his arms around me, holding me close. “I’m staying.” It felt more like a vow than a statement.

  How had I been so lucky to find him again just when I needed him most.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Beck

  I forced myself to concentrate through finals, which was a pain in the ass considering Carter’s and my flirting had gone from forty to nine thousand overnight. We hadn’t gotten around to that date night yet, but it hung in the air like a moon that I could glance at when I needed strength to get through this semester.

  “More coffee?” he offered at one of our late-night meetings. I hadn’t been much company, but I knew that my summer would be even better if I could bask in the afterglow of doing well on these damned tests.

  “No. I’m going to have an aneurism if I drink any more, but thank you.” I lightly popped him on the ass as he walked away.

  “Behave. None of that funny business until we’ve had our first date.”

  I scoffed. “Didn’t stop you before, Professor.”

  He growled and kissed my forehead. “I said behave, omega.”

  I sighed and went over my notes one more time. I knew it all by heart, but cramming had always served me well in the past.

  Tomorrow was the last one. I could get through it. I shut all my books and leaned back in the chair. “I’ve got this,” I said to him, smiling.

  “Yes, you do. You’ve been studying like the devil was on your heels. I’m so proud of you. I still don’t know how you do it all, but somehow you do.”