One Big Family (Hot Alaska Nights Book 1)

by Aiden Bates

  “Maybe not. But he had to stay back today and compile research.”

  “I’ll take pics and text them to him. He’ll be jealous that he missed out.”

  Zachary smirked. “Let’s get lunch at El Jefe afterward. He loves their carne asada. He’ll be positively green with envy.”

  Their laughter lifted away any lingering disappointment about Bastian not being there, and after a very positive check-up with Dr. Thoreson, Zachary felt better than he had in a few weeks.

  Gladys took about ten photos of Zachary indulging in his favorite foods, and he heard the little whoosh as she sent them away.

  It was the little moments like these that reminded Zachary that he and Bastian had made the right choice, choosing Stellar Landing for their home. Everything was going to be okay.

  Chapter Thirty-Three

  Nick never thought a pregnant man eating messy Mexican food could be such a turn-on.

  In the photos, Zachary looked happy and healthy. He’d always had that sexy, boy-next-door thing going on, but the new roundness to his appearance gave him an innocence that Nick found very appealing. His cheeks were fuller and pink, and his skin was dewy.

  Good job, Glad, he texted.

  He’d have to send her a little token of thanks or something, for these up-close and personal shots of his favorite omega. There was no Bastian in sight, either, cluttering up Nick’s view. Perfect. She’d gone above and beyond.

  Nick stretched out on his lover’s bed. The model was gone for the day, maybe doing model stuff, or maybe working a temp job as a receptionist. Nick didn’t pay much attention to him outside of the bedroom. The model was sexy and willing, but not particularly smart, and he bored Nick to tears whenever they spent “quality time” together. They watched a lot of movies so that Nick didn’t have to talk to him. But the model had a well-appointed luxury apartment in one of Chicago’s sky-rises, and he didn’t mind Nick hanging out without any observable income coming in.

  Not a bad set up.

  He flipped through the photos again, slower this time, zooming in on Zachary’s messy mouth and laughing eyes.

  Should I? Would it be weird? Nick tossed around the idea of masturbating to the images when a text interrupted his thoughts.

  How much more? Gladys demanded.

  Being a doctor was hard work. Med school had been grueling and insanely expensive. Unlike most of the people he went to school with, Nick didn’t have rich parents helping him out. He worked part-time all through undergrad, and then had to suck it up and take out loans—massive loans—to get through med school when there was no time or energy for another job.

  But there were perks, too. He made enough after a few years to pay off his loans and build that cabin in the wilderness of Alaska. He could afford good wines and nice restaurants, and to fly a hot fuck-buddy into town whenever he wanted . . . at least for a while. And he had leverage.

  Zachary Kelso wasn’t the first guy that Nick tried to trick into bed. He likely wouldn’t be the last. He was one of the rare few who didn’t actually end up underneath Nick, though (but Nick hoped to rectify that).

  Then there were the patients that he knew things about. People who were so grateful for Nick’s help and discretion that they offered favors. Nick didn’t even need to ask. He could get front row seats to almost any rock concert in the world because he once helped a bigwig producer’s daughter get into rehab. He got regular blowjobs from a long-haul driver that he hooked up with an Adderall prescription.

  Sometimes Nick did need to “ask” for favors though. Gladys was a good girl, but she had problems in her past. Like so many artists, she struggled with depression, and only a few years ago, when she thought she couldn’t take it anymore, she broke into the clinic and took a supply of benzodiazepines and pain killers that were kept on hand for emergencies.

  Nick certainly felt bad for the woman. She wasn’t looking to get high; she was looking for relief from the pain of life. Nick understood that.

  Her mother took her to the hospital that night, was able to get her into her car, so Gladys must have confessed to her mom immediately after taking the pills. Just a cry for help. No one else in Stellar knew.

  Except Nick.

  When he arrived in the clinic the following morning, bright and early and before the nurse-practitioner for a change, he found that the medication cabinet had been tampered with. They didn’t have the latest and newest, but they’d never had problems with anyone stealing from the clinic before. Nick cleaned up the evidence, and then opened up the security cam on the office computer, which was kept running all night (he didn’t trust the Stellar Landing residents that much).

  There was Gladys, who had fluorescent yellow hair at the time. She was crying. She didn’t want to be stealing drugs, it was obvious. She must have felt she had no choice.

  Nick left a voicemail for her the next day, but it wasn’t until three days later, after a brief psychiatric stay, that she came down to the clinic to see him. He showed her the video and she cried. She needed to let it all out it seemed: the crippling depression, the fear of a bleak future.

  “You should have come seen me, Gladys,” Nick said soothingly. “There’s no shame in depression. I’ve taken Zoloft before.” It wasn’t true. Nick believed that alphas were never weak in that way.

  She seemed grateful.

  “The shameful part is the theft,” Nick said.

  He seemed to catch her by surprise. Perhaps she thought he was going to just let it slide.

  That’s when the begging started. Her mother would be humiliated if the community found out, she cried. Her mom’s restaurant might suffer. Gladys’s friends might wonder if they could trust her anymore. In a small place like Stellar, she was probably right.

  “I’m not going to report you, Gladys.”

  Nick expected her to look at him with relief, but instead there was fear in her eyes.

  He liked that.

  “I think we can work out an arrangement. I help you by keeping your crime and your illness secret. You help me with some . . . favors, once in a while.”

  It was subtle, ever so subtle, but Nick saw Gladys’s legs get closer together. He almost laughed.

  “I’m gay, Gladys. I don’t want to fuck you. And I don’t even know what favors I might need from you. But I’ll let you know when I do.”

  He wasn’t a monster: he made sure that Gladys was seeing a qualified psychiatrist in Anchorage and taking a well-regarded antidepressant.

  It had been two years, and she seemed to be doing much better. He waited until she was less of a mess to ask for her help after he fled from Stellar. He needed her to be his eyes and ears. Gladys was the one who told him that Zachary had not actually gone through with the rigmarole of a restraining order. It wasn’t easy to get one, and since Nick was gone, it no longer seemed necessary.

  Nick was pleased to hear that, and amused that once again, he’d been underestimated. That happened a lot. Sometimes people deserved what happened to them because they were so naive.

  He texted Gladys now. Still taking meds?

  Yes. How much longer do you need me to do this?

  Not sure yet. Are they staying in Stellar?

  Yes. New condo, new baby doc.

  Send me the doc’s name. Keep the photos coming.

  Nick flipped through the photos again.

  He wanted the omega. He wanted the baby. He wanted the life.

  Chapter Thirty-Four

  Christmas in Stellar Landing. It was almost like being in the North Pole. Cold and magical.

  The entire building got into the spirit, decorating the common areas with lights and cut out snowflakes. Christmas movies were shown in the rec room during the “twelve nights of Christmas.” Celia the librarian read Christmas stories to the children over their break from school. Gladys took orders for holiday desserts, and Carl sold them in the shop along with hams and potatoes and candy canes.

  Zachary’s due date was February first, but he felt like it
had passed weeks ago. He couldn’t sleep well, couldn’t find a comfortable position, and Bastian’s light snoring was like a foghorn in his ears. His knees and hips hurt from the extra weight.

  The one comfort he had was the huge bathtub that Bastian had specially ordered for the condo. It was round and cool and beautiful, with strategically placed jets that could hit Zachary’s shoulders, lower back, and feet simultaneously if he positioned himself just right. Twice daily floats in the tub were Zachary’s new normal, and he didn’t care how much water he wasted.

  When he wasn’t bobbing in the tub, he kept himself busy by shopping online for Christmas gifts for his family and friends, and buying things for the baby. Depending on the state of the roads, the items might not arrive in a timely manner, but the shopping itself helped keep his mind off of the slowly passing time.

  Since his swollen, sore body kept him mostly propped up on the couch, Bastian had done the Christmas decorating himself. Huge, fluffy trees were de rigueur in Stellar Landing, since there was a nearby Douglas fir farm. Theirs took up almost the entire living room, and Bastian hung multicolored orbs and tinsel from the branches.

  “We’ll use these until we start collecting our own ornaments,” Bastian said with a smile while Zachary watched him. “My parents like to pick up an ornament or two from every place they visit. They’ve got snow globes from EuroDisney and Navajo-crafted nativity scenes from Arizona, and something from everywhere in between. What do you think about that?”

  “That’s a great idea. Then every Christmas we have memories to look back on.” Zachary tried to speak cheerfully—he really did love Bastian, and he loved Christmas—but the smell of the evergreen was almost overpowering, and they didn’t make unscented Christmas trees.

  Fortunately, after a few days, he was used to the tree.

  His doctor said he needed to move around, so every day Zachary took a walk around the building, starting with an early lunch at the café.

  Holly swore Zachary was going to have a boy.

  “I don’t know much about how omegas carry, hon, but you are as big as a gray whale and holding it up high, and to me, that means you’re carrying a boy. Have ya’ll thought of any names yet?”

  Zachary mumbled a few names, pulled off the top of his head, of favorite book characters, favorite photographers, his uncle’s kids. In fact, Zachary and Bastian had been unable to agree on any names yet.

  “Hamish?” Holly said, a look of alarm on her face. “I beg you to not do that to your precious little baby. How about something like Jason? Or Damien? I guess I like those long A’s.”

  “Damien? Like the Omen kid?” Zachary said with a smile. “How about Samara, or Regan?”

  “Hm. Now those just seem like girls’ names to me, but keep them on hand in case I’m wrong!”

  Zachary held in his laughter. He didn’t want to hurt Holly’s feelings just because she wasn’t a horror movie fan. He liked her a great deal, and he needed her to be on his side because she was one of the people who was helping Zachary get through the horribly boring last few months.

  Going outside was no longer an option. The cold was just too miserable, the ice too hazardous. It had been two days since Zachary had a breath of fresh air. Holly kept his mind off of his virtual imprisonment by providing fresh gossip, and hot delicious meals. He still craved Mexican food, and while that was not something she normally had on her menu, she made up daily specials just for him.

  “I don’t mind at all, honey,” she said after one of his daily bursts of gratitude. “It’s increased business. Everyone loves enchiladas and chilaquiles. I should have done this years ago!”

  Zachary often stopped at the little church to say hi to Pastor Mike. Mike was fascinated by the story of the Costa Rican nuns, and they’d often engage in friendly debates about the pros and cons of the “sexual ministry” that those women engaged in.

  If the library was open, Zachary might pick up a new movie, and if the grocery was open, he might sneak in to get a snack from Carl.

  “I won’t tell,” Carl said with a wink, and although Zachary wasn’t worried that Bastian would get mad, he simply didn’t want anyone to know that Carl was ordering something called “Queso FUN-dido” for him—spicy crackers that were coated in a burning hot, bright orange cheese powder.

  Aaron was another person who had been helpful during the difficult time. When the roads got too bad for Gladys to drive her Prius on, Aaron loaded Zachary up in his Jeep and brought him to Dr. Thoreson without a problem. Bastian went along these days, because with the due date drawing closer, any visit could have important news. The last few visits had been gratefully boring—the baby was fine, big and healthy.

  It was time for another appointment, their second-to-last if all went as planned. Aaron brought the men to the doctor’s office at the hospital complex and then went off to do his own errands.

  Dr. Thoreson was borderline ecstatic to see them. His eyes danced across Zachary’s round form.

  “You’re so big! Sorry, Zach, it’s just so wonderful to see you blossoming like this.” He began his regular check-up, feeling Zachary’s glands and pulse, as he spoke. “You know, I’ve got two more omega pregnancies now. Both of them early, both doing great. It’s an exciting time!”

  As always, Zachary found his spirits buoyed from being around the young doctor.

  “Your body is getting ready! The labor hormones are showing up on the tests, and your hips are adjusting. It’s all going as planned, my man, all going as planned. I’ll see you once more in two weeks, but if you need anything, just call me.”

  Zachary held out his hand to shake it, but the doctor surprised him with a hug.

  “So exciting!”

  Zachary and Bastian were still smiling as they exited into the waiting room.

  “He’s a little much, right?” Bastian said under his breath.

  “A little. But I like it.”

  “Zachary Kelso?”

  The two men turned. There was a young woman wearing jeans and a snow jacket, with wrap-around shades covering her eyes.

  “Uh, yeah? That’s me.”

  “You’re being served. Sign here.”

  The waiting room was filled with people, all of them looking up at Zachary and Bastian.

  “What—what’s this about?”

  “You’ll have to read the papers, sir. It’s all in there.” She took back her clipboard, spun on her heel, and was gone.

  Zachary stared at the brown envelope in his hand, and didn’t know what to do. He’d never been served before, for any reason.

  Bastian leaned into him. “Let’s take this to the diner next door. We can look it over there.”

  It was like this more and more: Zachary felt lost and Bastian found him, saved him, in small ways and large.

  Zachary was grateful for Bastian’s decisiveness, and allowed him to put his arm around him to get them out of the crowded waiting room.

  As soon as they were seated in a booth in the diner, Zachary started to tear into the envelope. He hadn’t even taken his gloves off.

  “Wait, wait.”

  Bastian put his hands on Zachary’s.

  “Before you open it, let’s just agree on something.” His voice was calm and strong.

  “Okay?”

  “Whatever this is, we can deal with it together. Nothing is more important than our baby and our marriage. Everything else is secondary. So whatever this is,” Bastian said, with a dismissive flap of the hand, “we can deal with it.”

  Zachary gulped and nodded. The truth was, he had no idea what it was, and that was terrifying. But in a way, that was comforting. It couldn’t be that bad if he wasn’t aware that it even existed, right?

  Zachary took his gloves off, took a deep breath, and opened the envelope. He scanned the page quickly, and felt Bastian’s eyes on his face the whole time, respecting Zachary’s privacy but no doubt dying to know what was going on.

  The words didn’t make sense. Separately, they made sense.
Clerk of Court. Summons. Paternity. Thomas Nichols. But not together. He read and reread the page in front of him.

  Finally, Zachary said to Bastian, “Thomas Nichols is saying that he’s the father of my baby.”

  Zachary looked at Bastian. Bastian’s face went white. Then red. He reached over and grabbed Zachary’s hands again.

  “You mean, our baby.”

  “Our baby.”

  “That son of a bitch.”

  Zachary thought about it later. He’d read about the phenomenon before, that when someone is under stress, sometimes they feel like they are floating above their body and looking down at the things that are happening. Like it’s a movie. Sound is muffled, feelings are dampened. The way it had been explained to him was that it was a coping mechanism that protected the person from experiencing too much distress at once.

  That’s what happened to Zachary. He just floated along, feeling warm in his winter clothes, allowing Bastian to steer him from the diner to Aaron’s waiting Jeep, and then from the Jeep to the building, then from the elevator to their condo. All the while, he could hear Bastian talking to Aaron, or Bastian talking on the phone, but he couldn’t make out the words. Or perhaps he just didn’t care to.

  At one point, later that afternoon, Bastian came to check on him. Zachary was lying in bed, under several layers of fluffy comforters, the TV on just for noise.

  “You okay, my love?” Bastian asked. His voice was tender. He had a glass of water and some crackers and cheese. Zachary liked pepper jack.

  Zachary nodded. He felt warm and content and like he wasn’t really there. But he needed Bastian to know.

  “This baby is yours, Bastian,” he said with a sleepy smile.

  “Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind, my love.”

  Chapter Thirty-Five

  Of course Bastian had big doubts. Huge.

  What he did not doubt was Zachary’s faithfulness and honesty. No one would ever be able to convince Bastian that his husband wasn’t an honest man. He trusted him unwaveringly.