A Bundle of Mannies

by Lorelei M. Hart

  I closed my eyes, savoring his entry, while whimpering and trying to make my wobbling legs keep me upright. “Always, alpha. Ohhh, because you fill me to the brim.”

  Then there was no more talking, just panting while he plunged deep into my body, stroking me at the time. When my knees gave out, he had an arm tight around me, supporting me as I spurted cum on the shower wall in creamy jets. “I love you, alpha,” I blurted out, right before he poured his cum into me, and then we sank to the floor, spray hitting us from all sides and washing away the evidence of our tryst.

  He said we’d be home soon. But I wasn’t sure what that would mean for us.

  Yet.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Judson

  There were two and a half weeks before the tour ended, and each and every day I simultaneously wanted it over and wanted it to go on forever. Go on forever because my family was happier than we’d been in a long time. I hadn’t realized how much school was weighing on Jagger or Bowie for that matter. Now that I knew, I could make things better for them there, but watching them thrive under the smaller academic setting opened my eyes to so much. Being a dad was hard.

  And then there was Edwin. I wanted the tour over for him. He was getting more and more uncomfortable with each passing day. The bus was not ideal for anyone, much less someone whose center of gravity changed by the hour. And the beds—oh, they were awful for him.

  Not that he complained. Sure sometimes, when it was just the two of us, he’d let out his frustrations with not being able to sit in his favorite chair anymore because his belly was touching the table, or how he longed for a full kitchen to make whatever concoction the baby convinced him he wanted, usually involving lots and lots of cheese, but in front of the kids and the rest of the people on tour with us, you’d never know he had a solitary complaint other than hunger—always asking when our next stop would be, and now the stops weren’t all Mickey D’s, BJ now alternating between her favorite burger place and Edwin’s favorite taco chain.

  “Dad, tour’s almost over, and Jagger and I were wondering if, when it did, if...you know?” Bowie looked to the counter where everyone was lined up for tacos and then back to me.

  “I don’t know.” I knelt to be closer to his level. “Can you explain it to me?”

  “When the tour is over, what happens?” I’d been thinking so much about that very thing. Would we get a place big enough for all of us, soon to be five, or was that too soon for Edwin? I didn’t think it was. We pretty much lived together already, but we’d never officially made specific plans for after the tour. “We go home, why?” I decided to opt for the not giving too much information too soon method. I discovered when they were three after a very long and awkward answer to where did their friend’s puppy come from, that with kids, often they just wanted to know the easy answer. If I had just answered Mr. Jones’ house instead of the entire attempt at the birds and the bees talk, we’d have had a much less complicated morning.

  “What about Edwin?” He looked back at the man now waddling to the line from the bathroom.

  “We will still see Edwin.” Even if he said no to living with us full-time, he was part of the family now. Of that, I had no doubt.

  “Will he come home with us?”

  “Yes. I think so.”

  “And when he does, do Jagger and I have to go back to Mom?” My jaw dropped. Why would they think such a thing? My heart beat a gazillion beats a minute, the cadence loud enough for me to hear. Did my little guys think I was going to reject them the way their mom had?

  “Oh, dear sweet Bowie, why are you asking?” I hugged him tightly. “Of course I want you with me. You’re my boys, and I love you.”

  “We love you, too, Dad.” His voice wavered slightly. Poor little guy had been holding onto this worry.

  “Why are you so worried?”

  “Fleur said that when daddies get new mates that their kids…” I had a pretty strong feeling Fleur and I were going to have words—words that ended in you’re fired. How dare she fill my kids’ minds with doubts like this. And if she did this, what other things had she done unnoticed?

  “That their kids what?” I forced myself to appear calm. I was anything but.

  “They weren’t wanted anymore.”

  “Fleur said those words?” Please let this be a little boy’s misinterpretation and not Fleur being as awful as it was beginning to sound.

  “We read Spiderwick, and Jagger asked why the dad wasn’t seeing them anymore, and I said their dad was probably like Mom, and she said parents don’t want their kids for lots of reasons, and maybe he had a new mate.” That was so very much not the point of that series. And yes, the dad was a grade A jerk but to jump from that to parents don’t want kids if they have a new mate—that was—nope.

  “Jagger, I promise you that nothing could keep me from wanting you to be my son and to be with me. Nothing. There is not a day I am not proud and joy-filled to have you in my life.”

  He stood there, just looking at me, and eventually his face bloomed into a smile. “Can we go tell Bowie?”

  “Absolutely. We should probably eat some tacos, too.” I took his little hand and stood up.

  “It looks like Edwin already ordered for us.” He pointed to the tray Edwin carried full of tacos and a milk. Who knew taco places carried milk?

  “I think those are just for him.” I chuckled.

  “Good because Bowie and I want nachos.”

  I looked over to watch Bowie bounding back to us from his spot in line with Simon.

  “You ask?” He spoke to his brother in the worst code ever, his nerves showing on his face.

  “All’s good.” He gave his brother a thumbs-up. “Dad said we could get nachos, too.”

  “I did not say that, but you can.” Maybe he misinterpreted her words the same way he heard me say yes to nachos as a meal. Please let that be the case. In so many ways she had been so amazing for the boys, even if not all of her ideas were her own. The last thing I wanted to find out was that she was purposefully hurting them and if she was, to what end?

  Fleur and I were going to need to have a little chat.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Edwin

  We ended the tour down one tutor. While she had not worked for Judson directly, once he chatted with her and found that the boys’ description of the chat about parents remarrying was pretty close to accurate—I was amazed she didn’t even try to say different—he met with Simon, Freddie, and the band manager. They had the authority to fire her. It seemed the only concern was how I would get along with the five kids and no tutor to give me breaks. Especially since the rest of the time on the road was going to be all single-night stops with no layovers and the kids were already getting cabin fever.

  When Judson asked, I swore up and down I could handle them, that we’d spent so much time together already, we would be fine for a couple of weeks. Arrangements were made for them to start with an online school, and I thought I could manage to supervise them during school time, at least. But four days later, I had begun to doubt my abilities. It wasn’t that my charges were being bad, but the intensity of the tour amped up with the stops in a different city every night and created a tense atmosphere that of course the children picked up on. I was closing in on eight months pregnant, so my energy level was low, and all I really wanted to do was sleep and eat.

  Then, with a week and a half to go, a miracle occurred in the form of a young cousin of Simon’s, a grad student in music theory who was taking a semester off to “experience life.” It seemed he’d been foolish enough to mention that to his cousin when he came backstage after the concert in his town.

  Next thing he knew, Paul was on the bus with a duffel bag full of hastily packed clothes and a job as my assistant. I wondered if it was the life he’d hoped to experience, but as I lay down for my afternoon nap on his first day, I thanked all that was good, and of course Simon, for the respite. He had all the energy I’d started the trip with and a desire t
o prove himself as an asset to the tour. Paul supervised the online classwork then entertained the kids with singalongs. He was a very talented guitar player, and I suspected he had dreams of being asked to join the band.

  That, however, was not my issue. And I tried not to be jealous that all the kids adored him almost instantly. He really was a lot more fun than I was at this point. And finally we found ourselves about a hundred miles from home at the final show of our four-month odyssey.

  And I was backstage.

  Somehow I hadn’t really thought much about what went on during the shows. We were often in the venues while things were being set up, riding bikes and, since Simon made another purchase, skating. I did ride the bikes, but skating was not only dangerous in my condition but with my center of gravity less than optimum, I’d have been on my ass most of the time. But by the time the audience was arriving, the kids and I were either back on the bus or in our hotel. Tonight, I was my alpha’s special guest. He’d handed me over to a crew member while he was doing final preparations, and I sat in the corner of the band’s lounge, sipping a fizzy water and watching people come and go.

  But when everything was ready to go, and the dull roar of the fans packing the arena buzzed in my ears, my bodyguard’s walkie-talkie buzzed, and a moment later I was on my way to sit off to the side, where I could see Judson and his team at work as well as the guys out on stage performing.

  It was loud. So loud. The baby was vibrating inside me, but just as I was about to excuse myself, my helper handed me earplugs. I popped them in and the baby settled a little, but I had the feeling it was dancing around in there, probably going to want to hear rock music to go to sleep at night. With Judson in our life, that was probably just as well, but it was sure to be quality noise.

  My alpha waved over another sound engineer and had him take his seat. He came to me and held out his hand then led me out of the booth and into the hallway behind. It wasn’t quiet back there, but at least, once I pulled out the plugs, I could hear him speak. “What do you think of the show?”

  “It’s loud, but awesome,” I assured him. “Watching you work is the best part. You look so happy and focused. You really do love this, don’t you?”

  He shrugged. “I do. Simon asked me to do some studio work with them when we get home. Another album. Nothing set in stone yet, but it will at least be part-time.”

  “That’s wonderful!” I hesitated. “It is wonderful, right? You don’t want to be out on the road all the time?”

  “Oh, hell no. I have had a fantastic time, but we need some time at home. After all, we’ll have a baby soon, and newborns on the road are less than ideal.”

  “Yeah, I can see that.” But I was still riding the “we” part. We would have a baby soon. “So, don’t bands always tour after releasing a new album?”

  “Yep. That means doing this again next summer. You up for that?”

  He was talking about us in the long-term. Making plans for next summer. Sure, we’d both said forever and stuff, but we were in an unusual situation, traveling as we did and we’d never actually made any specific plans for once the bus dropped us off for the last time. I was smiling so wide my cheeks ached when I replied, “Yes, but I don’t think I can manage Freddie’s kids along with our three.” Our three! I loved Bowie and Jagger like my own kids already.

  “He’ll have his own manny this time,” he vowed, resting a hand on my belly. I hadn’t dropped yet and it stood out so far it entered rooms well before me. “So, I guess we can stay in my place while we shop for a nice family home if you’re okay with that?”

  “Well, my studio apartment in the low-rent district is awfully nice, but I suppose a little small for a family of five.”

  “Maybe more one day,” he murmured, dropping to kiss my belly. “You wouldn’t mind more brothers and sisters, would you, tiny person?”

  “How many are you thinking?” I was worried about labor and delivery and taking care of a tiny baby already. “Will we need our own tour bus?”

  He stood and enfolded me in his strong arms. “Maybe, if we work very hard at it.”

  Chapter Twenty-Four

  Judson

  “Squatters?!” I barked into the phone. “How can that even be a thing?” When the landlord returned my call about re-leasing my place, I thought it would be an I’ll email the document right to you kind of thing, not you are soon to be homeless.

  Technically my sub-lease had ended a week earlier and silly me assumed they would move out as contracted. But no. They laid some kind of squatters rights on it and while I was off the hook since my new lease hadn’t been signed, it left us good and homeless.

  “Squatters. It will all work out. It always does, but they have a small child, and it complicates things.” He then rambled on and on about the legal issues at hand, offering me a studio apartment until it worked out. A studio—because nothing said family time like a one-room place.

  “I don’t even know what to say.” Which was a lie. I knew exactly what to say and it involved a heck of a lot of cuss words and some threat of legal action. None of that would help, though, so I opted for choice two—buying time.

  “We have someone coming to look at the studio the day after tomorrow,” the manager said. “If you let us know before then, we will hold it for you, if not, we have to—it’s business you understand.” And understand I did even if I hated it.

  I’d promised Edwin we could all go back to my place as we looked for a home to share, and now that the tour was over and we were driving the final leg of the journey, I had absolutely nothing to offer him except a possible studio apartment.

  Even Edwin’s horrible area studio was not an option because he’d given up his lease to his sublet when we decided to move in together.

  I inhaled deeply and did what any strong alpha would do—I went to Freddie to beg his advice. The responsible thing to do would be to talk to Edwin, but with every day of the tour he had less and less energy and looked more and more frazzled. The doctor had said it was still weeks before the baby would appear, but I was calling bullshit. The man looked ready to pop, and while I loved seeing him growing with child, that love ended as he looked more and more miserable. No, I didn’t want to break the bad news to him until we had to.

  “Hey, Freddie, got a few?” I cracked open the door to the private sleep area that had become Edwin’s and mine as the other beds became unmanageable. Freddie gave me a nod, handing his UNO cards to Edwin and earning him cheers from the kids and groans from my omega. Edwin gave me a glance that said, “You will tell me everything later,” and I replied with a curt nod of promise. I would tell him everything once I fixed it.

  Freddie came on in and sat on the edge of the bed. “What’s up, buttercup?”

  “Really?” I side eyed him.

  “Sunshine?” he deadpanned.

  “Nice. How about—oh, I don’t know, sound god?” I teased back. I was going to miss the guys when the tour ended. If all worked out with their next album, we’d be back again next summer, possibly for a longer tour, but for now we were going to part ways, at least until the work started on the next album, each of us to our own little corner of the world. The end of a tour had all the feels.

  “Fine, what’s up, sound god?”

  “I have a squatter problem.” I then went on to tell him everything from my phone call with my landlord.

  “That sucks, man. Do you need something in the same school district?” Did I? I wasn’t even sure. They had royally messed up with not only Jagger’s reading but also with identifying his gifts. But it was where all their friends were.

  “I don’t even know. Shit, I don’t know anything other than I have a pregnant omega about to give birth, no home, and two children who need stability. So pretty much my life is a hot mess.”

  “Not your life, your housing situation and that is easy peasy to solve.” He took out his phone and began to tap away. “What do you think of this?”

  He handed me the phone which had a ni
ce little three-bedroom home on it. I swiped each of the photos, falling more and more in love with it as I did. That was until I exed out of the photos and saw the price.

  “That is so far outside of my price range that I am not sure I’d be allowed in the neighborhood.” Had he forgotten what it had been like before they hit the top of the charts.

  “Rich overpriced it so no one would buy it but so he could say he was letting it go.” He took back the phone and tapped and swiped a bunch, handing the phone back to me, this time with their family in front of the house, standing next to an elderly man. “That was Frank, my father-in-law, and this is the house Rich grew up in.”

  “Why is he selling it if he doesn’t want to?” It wasn’t as if they didn’t have enough money to keep it going and not have it impacting their finances whatsoever.

  “Because Rich thinks he needs to let it go even though his heart tells him not to.”

  “I still can’t afford it.” Not even if it went down 50 percent. It was a sweet idea, and knowing it was a well-loved family home only made it more appealing, but at the end of the day I still didn’t have the money.

  “Rent it from us for fair market value, not this bullshit price, and if it feels like home to you, we will figure out a rent-to-own situation or direct sale or whatever you want.”

  I rolled the offer over in my head. It was a win-win if he really didn’t want it gone.

  “Shouldn’t we ask Rich?”

  A knock came at the door and in walked Rich.

  “Speak of the devil.” I chortled.