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Under Siege: A Contemporary Mpreg Romance Bundle (Omega's Under Siege)

Page 38

by Aiden Bates


  “Fine,” I relented, catching the eye of the omega clerk at the cash register as we approached. “Let’s just get out of here.”

  I could already see the way the clerk was looking at me—like some kind of horny slut with daddy issues. It was a look I imagined most omegas my age got when they were caught being guided around town by an alpha like Logan, and it only intensified when Logan laid down the pregnancy test, dumping the antacids and a bottle of Ibuprofen alongside it on the counter.

  But if Logan had any issues with the way we were being seen, it didn’t seem to faze him at all. For a man walking around with an omega more than half his age, Logan was entirely blasé about the way we were perceived. Without hesitation, he pulled out his card and took care of the bill before I even had a chance to reach for my wallet. Even when the clerk raised his eyebrow as he handed us our bag, Logan only gave the man a smile and a friendly, “Have a nice day.”

  It was reassuring, in a way—or it would have been if I wasn’t somewhat terrified of what the test in that little paper bag might say about my future. About Logan’s. About where we went from here. I liked being with someone who made me feel so taken care of. Someone so unashamed about being seen with me, no matter how other people stared.

  As we got into Logan’s truck, he looked over at me and reached out to caress my face, running his thumb along my cheekbone. “What would be more comfortable for you, you think? Want to take this thing at your place, or mine?”

  “I… Well, I…” Before I could make a decision on the matter, Logan had already pulled my seatbelt across my body and shifted the truck into gear.

  “We’ll go to mine,” he said with a grunt of certainty, brow set low and focused as he guided the truck out of the parking lot and onto the road.

  I closed my mouth, staring at him the whole ride home. It wasn’t like I had anything else to do at the moment—anything other than sit and worry, that was. Logan had the whole situation under control, or so it seemed. If it wasn’t my womb that his baby may or may not have been in, I wouldn’t have needed to be there at all. Logan made all the decisions. Paid for everything. He even did all the driving.

  I was only along for the ride.

  I didn’t know what to make of Logan’s attitude. Part of me said, yes. Fuck yes. God, please, care for me. Make the decisions. Do all the heavy lifting. Let me just float along after you until the world’s set right again. It was a tempting prospect, only furthered along by the way I was bracing myself for the worst.

  If I actually ended up pregnant, I didn’t know what it would do to our relationship. Casual didn’t cut it anymore when there was a baby involved. Having a baby together, in fact, was arguably the least casual thing two people could do together. But even worse, I didn’t know what being pregnant would do to me. The things Chris had done to me—the way he’d forced me, hurt me, used me like some kind of disposable sex toy he could toss in the trash when he was done with me—had ultimately left my womb damaged, my cycle out of balance and my life in constant hormonal turmoil. A baby could easily exacerbate that. If it didn’t kill me first.

  The desire to be taken care of, in the face of all that, was understandable. But despite that desire, I couldn’t help but feeling like…

  Well, like I was a little kid all over again, caught with my homework unfinished. My fingernails dirty. Sneaking snacks from the fridge after midnight. Logan was trying to be compassionate toward me, but it was hard to feel like it was real when I didn’t even get the time to decide who’s house I wanted to be at when I peed on the stupid test he’d just bought for me.

  In a way, I knew that Logan’s abruptness, his decisiveness, his take-control attitude and his gruff little grunts were just part of who he was. Sometimes, I liked that about him.

  Sometimes—like the way I was feeling as he came around the truck after pulling into his drive to open my door for me—it felt like I was some helpless little boy again, perpetually a minute or two away from a stern talking to before being sent to bed without dessert.

  But even if I was in trouble, at least Logan was making the effort to be understanding about it. Or at least, he was trying to. He held my hand all the way to the master bath and waited outside while I took the test.

  When I balanced it on the counter, careful to keep it from tilting the wrong way, I realized my hand was shaking.

  Suddenly, having my hand held and my cheek caressed didn’t sound so bad after all.

  “Okay,” I said with a sigh, emerging from the bathroom. “Now we wait.”

  “How long?” Logan asked, his phone held out with the timer at the ready.

  I checked the instructions on the box. “Ten minutes?”

  Logan only grunted in reply, setting his timer and placing his phone down on the dresser.

  We stood there for a moment, not saying anything at all. Logan’s look was impenetrable. It was impossible to tell what that man was thinking at the best of times. Most times his unreadable face was enough to send a shock of panic racing through my heart and pinging through my body until my fingertips and toes were tingling with it.

  As for me… I glanced in the mirror over the dresser, noting how pale my face looked. How blown out my pupils were. My hair looked silky, shinier, a lighter brown than it normally was, which was odd, unsettling, and downright impossible, but there were also dark circles of worry beneath my eyes. I felt like some kind of folklore vampire or something. An otherworldly glow met with a sense of Victorian grimness I couldn’t place.

  Maybe I just have consumption. I clung to whatever dark sense of humor I still had left. Might as well. I’m probably fucked either way.

  “What will it… What does it mean if I’m…you know,” I said lamely, glancing up at Logan for a moment before dropping my gaze back to his boots. “Will we still… Do you think it—”

  “Best not to speculate, Bennet.” Logan nodded down to the phone on the dresser, reaching out to take my hand. He squeezed it a little too firmly, until I found myself drawing my fingers out of his grasp just to avoid feeling them being crushed quite like that again. “We’ll know soon enough.”

  It was the longest ten minutes of my life.

  When the timer finally went off, I rushed past Logan on my way back into the bathroom, desperate to get to the results before he did.

  “Here,” Logan offered, coming up behind me. “Let me—”

  “No.” I held the test behind my back without looking at it, drawing myself up to my full height and facing him. Shoulders back. Head held high. “Before we look, Logan, I need to know. I can’t read these results without knowing for sure where you’re at on this. It’s important.”

  “Well.” Logan’s back was straight as ever. In the moment, his height, the way he loomed over me—it only made me feel more vulnerable as I held my breath, waiting to hear his verdict. Normally, I liked Logan’s height. But now, it only made me feel small. “I never imagined having another child.”

  My heart went directly into freefall. “Oh.”

  “I…” Logan licked his lips, his discomfort acute. “It would be a surprise. It’s late in life for me. Far too early in life for you, if I’m being frank.”

  “Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. It was the only syllable I seemed able to make.

  “But I never shy away from responsibility,” he claimed, hazel eyes shining as he took a step closer, as he took my face in the palms of his hands. “Whatever that test says, whatever needs to be done. If it’s…” He closed his eyes and shook his head before looking at me again. “We’re in this together, Bennet. No matter what.”

  “That’s…somewhat unromantic,” I admitted, not bothering to be anything but blunt. The time for tactfulness had long since passed. Subtle went out the window the moment Logan suggested a pregnancy test.

  “I’m sorry, Bennet. I…” He nodded, accepting the emotion as it finally flashed across his face. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared too.”

  “Well…” I tightened my fis
t around the test, knowing there was nothing more to do now than to get this over with. “I guess we should look, then.”

  “Nothing we can do about fear except face it,” Logan agreed.

  As I pulled the test out from behind my back, my hands were shaking so hard, it was almost impossible to read the results.

  Almost impossible.

  But not quite.

  Staring back up at us from between my trembling fingers was one little blue line…

  And another, running parallel to it, dark as the sky before it rained.

  Pregnant.

  17

  Logan

  “I’m pregnant.”

  Bennet’s voice was so quiet, I could barely even hear him say the words. It sounded like they were coming out of his throat all rough edges and jagged points, every consonant scouring his tongue on the way out.

  “We can fix this,” I told him, unsure of what else to say or do. I reached for his hand, but when I squeezed his fingers, they were limp and lifeless against mine. Dead weight.

  “I’m pregnant,” was all he said in return.

  He looked broken. Vulnerable. When I’d first met Bennet, he’d been this cute, blushing, slightly clumsy thing, but now, all of that bubbly sweetness seemed to have drained right out of him, down into the bathroom sink.

  This was not something I was accustomed to dealing with. Even when Roland had been upset when we were together, he’d been loud. Angry. Prone to dramatics like sobbing, pointing vigorously, even throwing things a time or two. But this…

  Bennet looked shell-shocked. Like some of my friends who hadn’t made it out of the Middle East as well as I had. That thousand-mile gaze was something I knew all too well, but the last time I’d seen it, it was in my CO’s eyes shortly after my platoon and I had narrowly made our way out of a firefight.

  I glanced down at the pregnancy test again, just to reassure myself it was real. Bennet held it clenched in his fist, his knuckles white like he was clutching a live grenade.

  At that point, there was only one thing I could do. The only thing I knew how to do.

  You didn’t go into battle without a strategy. And from what I could recall of Roland’s last pregnancy, and from what I knew about Bennet’s condition, this pregnancy wasn’t a mere battle. It had the general feeling of an outright war.

  “Right.” I clenched my jaw, nodding and taking both his hands in mine. “You’ll move in with me, for starters. Effective immediately. Obviously. Of course.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “I’ll convince my CO that the medical discharge is irrelevant. Talk to Dr. Smith, explain the situation. Ride out the rest of my contract. I’ve got savings already. Can build them up even more.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “It’s been twenty-four years since the last time I did this.” My heart was racing at the thought, but there was no chest pain, no tingling in my left arm, and this was not the time to panic. I took a deep breath, then continued. “But I still remember everything. Know all about it. What to Expect When You’re Expecting. All that stuff.”

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “We’ll get you on a proper diet. Prenatal foods, organics, gentle exercise, nothing too much, of course, but there’s baby yoga, there’s gentle cardio. We’ll find something that’s right for you, shouldn’t be hard.” I was rambling. My words were coming faster and faster with every passing minute, and not a single one of them seemed to help.

  “I’m pregnant.”

  “You’re in shock.” I moved my hands from his fingertips to either side of his face, cupping his jawline and turning his gaze up to meet mine. “You’re pregnant, Bennet, but you’re also safe. You’ve got health insurance through your job. I’ve got a place you can stay, money we can live off. We can get you in to see all the best doctors, all the best specialists, all the best—”

  “Logan, I’m pregnant.” Finally, Bennet snapped out of it, his brow lowering in frustration as he took a step back. “I’m pregnant, and all you can talk about is-is baby yoga and organic food and your fucking battle plan—”

  “I’m trying to help,” I insisted, reaching for him again. Before I could make contact with his skin, he took another step back, just out of reach.

  “You’re planning. Scheming. Trying to organize this into something you have control of, but you’re not… You’re not—”

  “Not what?” I asked, the words bursting out of my mouth at a higher volume than I’d expected.

  Bennet flinched at the sound, and immediately, the pit of my stomach filled with guilt.

  “Not emoting,” he said, his voice even smaller and quieter than ever. “And now you’re yelling at me on top of it.”

  “I’m sorry,” I said genuinely. With an abusive father and an abusive ex, I could imagine why hearing me raise my voice had only made things worse. Bennet wasn’t one of my troops—he was the omega who was having my baby. My baby. Deliberately, I shifted my tone softer. More comforting. “What would help?”

  “Just…” Bennet sighed in frustration. “Are you happy? Sad? Are you angry with me? Are you feeling anything?”

  “I’m not angry, sweetheart,” I said, even though I knew that raising my voice had probably made that particular statement sound incredibly untrue. “I’m…not sure what I’m feeling beyond that. But not angry. How could I possibly be angry with you?”

  Bennet bit his lower lip, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m ruining your life.”

  “You’re not ruining my life.” I had to carefully meter out my voice again. This was even more difficult than I’d expected. I didn’t know what I felt in the moment. Worried, maybe. Afraid? Well, yes, I’d already admitted that. Happy? “I’m…still processing this whole thing, Bennet. I think we both are. That’s fair. Right?”

  “I guess.” Bennet’s voice sounded distant again, but the tears in his eyes were slowly fading away.

  “We can sort out our feelings later. Right now, what I think we both need is a plan.”

  Bennet stared me down for a moment. If there was a right thing to say, that hadn’t been it.

  “I need some air,” Bennet said, gazing at the space behind me while moving around me like I was a piece of furniture in the way of his reaching it.

  “Wait,” I said, reaching out for him. I grabbed his wrist, desperate to stop him from running away—and there it was again. The flinch. Immediately, I softened my grip, but the damage had already been done. All I could do now was try to make it better. Be softer. More… More something. Try to correct. “Bennet, please. Just a minute, okay? I’m not going to hurt you, just…”

  I drew him to me, moving as slow and gentle as I possibly could. I wound one hand round his waist, the other I pressed between our bodies, my palm flush with his belly.

  The belly that now held my child.

  All those condoms I’d bought, only to discover I’d bought them far too late.

  I lowered my lips to his, pressing kiss after kiss against them. Trying to shift away Bennet’s shock or sadness or fear—whatever it was—and replace it with the love we’d confessed the night before.

  He didn’t kiss me back. I supposed, given everything, I deserved that. But this wasn’t about Bennet giving me what I needed right now. This was about me showing him I could be the man he needed—or at least, I could try to become that man. Be better. Be more.

  “We’re having a baby, Bennet.” I moved my fingers over his belly, smoothing them up and down the hills and valleys of his abs. “Whatever else is going on inside us or between us… A baby is something to be happy for, right?”

  “Do you love me?” Bennet asked, changing the subject so fast it nearly gave me whiplash.

  “Do I what?”

  “You said it last night. I even half-believed it. But…did you mean it? Like, do you love me like that?”

  I blinked, mouthing for words. “I…don’t understand why that would have changed since, sweetheart.”

  Bennet cocked his head
to the side, eyes suddenly dark, his gaze sharp as the edge of a Bowie knife. “That’s not what I asked. It’s one thing what we said before, but this is next level. This is a baby, Logan. Not just some words that we said because you made me come and I blurted them out in the throes of orgasm until you felt like you had to say them back.”

  “Bennet…”

  “Are we going to be…a family?” Bennet’s line of questioning shifted again, fast enough to make my head spin.

  “I don’t have all the answers yet,” I said, feeling like yesterday’s news left out in the rain. If there were right words to say, they’d been dissolved.

  Bennet gave a short, bitter laugh. “At least I know you’re honest to a fault.”

  “Don’t go.” The words came out like an order. Maybe they were one. But I wasn’t Bennet’s CO. I was his…partner, maybe. Baby daddy, obviously. But whatever I was, I wasn’t going to order him around like an enlisted man. He deserved better than that. “Please, don’t go.”

  “I’m not running off just yet.” Bennet protectively crossed his arms over his stomach, already guarding the child growing inside him. “I need…time, I think. Time to process, time to think… Time to figure out what I even want right now.”

  “Then—” I moved toward him, but Bennet held up his hand to stop me.

  “And I do that best on my own. Please.” His eyes searched mine pleadingly. “Let me take a walk? Get my head straight? I’ll come back later. Just…please. Right now, please let me go.”

  And I couldn’t say no to that.

  “I’ll be here.” It was all I could say. I moved aside, standing in the bathroom like a statue as he left. The slightest motion on my part might’ve made him flinch again—and I’d give every year left of my life in exchange for the knowledge that no one would ever make Bennet do that again for the rest of his own.

  In Bennet’s absence, I thought I’d find myself feeling something. Happy. Sad. Something other than this panicked dread and this guilt that was eating through my gut like I’d swallowed battery acid.

 

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