Three Ways to Destiny: SoCal Cuties — Book 5

by Grey, Aspen

  Julie grinned and came over to me and gave me a loving hung. “If you look up wise in the dictionary, there’s a picture of me!”

  She planted a mushy kiss on my cheek and turned back to the bedroom. “I’ll leave you alone.”

  “Thanks, Julie,” I told her.

  You’ve come a long way, I told myself. There was still much to do. I had to raise my son, love my mate, expand my business and keep the security of my family intact. But right now, I had a chance to mend things with my father, and I knew now that before I could move on and be completely whole as a person, I had to at least try to do that.

  With a deep breath, I raised my cell phone and pressed the dial button beside my father’s name.

  Epilogue

  Ollie

  Eight months later…

  “Look at him go!” I exclaimed as Jeremy shifted again, took his jet-black panther form, tumbled over and face-planted into one of the many cushions we’d laid out in anticipation of such a thing happening.

  “Ooooh, almost!” Arthur laughed.

  “He’s getting better,” Sid remarked proudly. Shifters were not only pregnant for shorter times than humans, but as children, they also developed much more quickly, and this meant that little baby Jeremy was already toddling around on two feet in human form, but still hadn’t quite managed moving about as a panther.

  He shifted back to human form and giggled as he rolled onto his back and almost slid off the cushion before Sid snatched him up and cradled him in his arms.

  “Dada,” he gurgled.

  “That’s right!” Sid exclaimed. “Dada!”

  Jeremy giggled again and shifted in his father’s arms. He squirmed to be let down and Sid placed him on the floor again, his hands ready if there was another fall. This time, Jeremy’s eyes were intent, and as he put his first foot forward, he slid his tongue out of his mouth in cartoonesque concentration.

  “Oooh, he’s serious now,” Jeremy, his namesake, said as he came into the living room with a rum and Coke in his hand. “I think he’s gonna get it this time.”

  “Let’s hope so!” I replied happily.

  Jeremy was fantastic. Sid had called him the day after I’d given birth—or maybe the same day, I couldn’t remember as I was completely out of it in my post-birth state—and they’d reconnected. After a week or so, and hearing the news that he was now a grandfather, Jeremy had finally left his place in New Hampshire and made the trip out here to San Diego.

  I’d been nervous for him, and Arthur had been skeptical. He’d arrived and we’d let Sid go on his own to pick him up at the airport. They’d gone out and talked and come back to the house really late, so late that his namesake grandson had already been put down for the night. They’d stayed up talking into the morning and I’d finally been able to introduce him to my new little bundle of joy.

  “Named after you,” I’d told him. He was a strong man, a graying version of his son, but I saw a hint of wetness in his eyes when he’d held my son. It was then that I knew he and Sid would be able to make things right.

  Sid had never known his other father, and had always resented Jeremy for never telling him the whole story, but it turned out he’d only been trying to protect Sid from the truth—that the man who he’d mated with had abandoned them both when he found out Jeremy was pregnant. He’d never even wanted a family and refused to be involved or even be around. After Sid had found that out, he’d warmed up to Jeremy immediately.

  The two had spent a good week or so doing things with each other and getting to know each other again. They’d gone hiking in Mission George and come back with pictures of lizards sunbathing on the rocks. They went to the Maritime Museum and saw the old masted navy ships, one of them a replica that had been used in the film Master and Commander with Russell Crowe. They’d gone down to Pacific Beach to watch the surfers and rode scooters down the boardwalk, but most importantly of all, had spent time with little Jeremy.

  “You can do it!” I said to my little boy as he put his paw forward. This time his leg was strong, and he put another foot forward, and then another and another until he let out a little squeal of delight.

  “You’re doing it!” Sid exclaimed.

  “I told you!” his father replied.

  But little Jeremy got ahead of himself, tried his best to break into a run, and tumbled forward into the base of the couch. He instantly started to cry.

  “Oooh, that’s going to wake up Andrew,” I winced, automatically getting to my feet and heading for the nursery. Sure enough, seconds later, I heard Andrew’s cries. It was his afternoon nap and nothing upset him more than being woken up before it was over.

  I stepped into the dimly lit room we’d transformed into the nursery and stepped over to the beautiful crib Jedrik had built for us out of some kind of wood that glowed beautifully warm beneath the soft nightlight in the corner.

  “Ohhh, don’t cry, baby,” I told Andrew as Arthur came into the room behind me.

  “Want me to take him?” he asked. It was a question, but what he was really saying was “let me take him.” It was his baby boy after all.

  “That would be nice,” I said, playing along. I stepped aside and my mate plucked his son out of the crib and lifted him high into the air, hoisting him above his head. It always made me nervous when he did that, but nine times out of time it surprised little Andrew so much that he instantly stopped crying. This time was the one out of ten when it didn’t work.

  “Good try,” I smirked as I leaned my head against his back. He shushed his son and cradled him and began to rock him. I inhaled Arthur’s manly scent and the hint of Andrew’s that would one day drive the omegas wild, and despite his little cries, felt peaceful and at home.

  “I think he’s hungry,” Arthur said.

  “Let me see,” I told him, taking the little crying boy from him. Arthur was right. He instantly latched on and began to feed. My pregnant belly made a nice little shelf to sit him on while he fed, and I was feeling more maternal (paternal?) than ever.

  “There you go,” Arthur said as he stroked Andrew’s head. “He’s gonna be a big boy.”

  “He sure is,” I smiled. “And so will he.”

  I nodded down to my belly, causing Arthur to look down as well. He knelt before me, lifted the fabric of my loose t-shirt and kissed me just below the belly button. Both of my fated-mates knew exactly what to do to drive me crazy and make me feel like the most important omega in the world. I may not have been that to everyone, but I was to them, and that was all that mattered.

  “Yay!” I heard Jeremy exclaim from the other room—big Jeremy, of course—which probably meant that his grandson had managed to make more progress getting his panther legs under him. As Andrew was now content with his nursing, Arthur and I headed back into the living room to join the rest of the family.

  A lot had changed since my single days by myself in the tiny apartment above the White Swallow. I had two mates, two children and a father-in-law all living with me now. We were like a real genuine pack! Arthur had started taking fewer security jobs, mostly only working for Wendy, whom he’d developed a friendship with, which gave Sid time to grind at work and focus on expanding his business. It hadn’t happened yet, but he had decided to definitely go forward with opening a brick and mortar restaurant somewhere in San Diego, and I had no doubt that he would succeed.

  I looked down at little Jeremy as he hopped on all fours, transformed back into human form and fell back onto the pillow, a giggling mess before Sid lifted him into his arms, and honestly believed things could never get any better. But of course that wasn’t true.

  I had another baby on the way, and probably more after that. Sid’s business was going to grow and we were going to watch our children get older and develop and change and eventually have lives of their own. Part of me wanted life to start rushing by, as though it was on fast forward, so I could see how everything would change, but the rest of me understood that I was beyond happy right now and that every da
y from here on out was going to be a blessing.

  Your life is perfect, Ollie. There’s no reason to rush anything.

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  Part One

  An Omega For Two

  Chapter One

  Max

  As I stood on the balcony of the Golds’ sprawling beach house on the coast of La Jolla, San Diego, watching the spray from the waves as they crashed against the cliff breaks, I felt myself wondering about what my life would be like if I was the one living in this house—not the one cleaning it.

  It was, January, which meant “winter” in San Diego, but the breeze coming off the water was still warm. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, inhaling the refreshing salty smell of the ocean and pretending that the deed to the house was under my name, that I’d just come home from a long day at the office (where I made tons of money, of course) and now I was ready to relax and enjoy a nice blowjob from my sweet omega.

  Of course, none of that was even remotely true, but it was fun to pretend. Not only was I a housecleaner, part-time at that, but I was also an omega—if anything, in that scenario, I’d be the one giving the blowjob to my gorgeous, world-conquering alpha after he came back from work. But that wasn’t the case either.

  “If only,” I muttered to myself as I stepped back inside and locked the door behind me. “But hey, I can dream, can’t I?”

  All I had left to do was the kitchen, which I didn’t mind doing at all, as the Golds had a beautiful indoor herb garden that smelled of rosemary, thyme and basil, which made my chore of wiping down the counters and doing whatever dishes they’d left for me a lot easier. I could still hear the light sound of the ocean waves breaking against the rocky beach as I finished up my work for the day, put my things away and headed out to my faded yellow sedan to start the drive back home. But as I was leaving, Mrs. Albrite was coming home.

  Shit…

  “Oh, Max!” she cried out in that shrill, queenly tone of hers as she tumbled out of her big black sedan, Michael Kors purse slung around her stick-like arm. “Don’t go just yet!”

  “I’m all finished inside, Mrs. Albrite,” I groaned, not stopping as I walked towards my car.

  “I just—I have a few bags of trash that need to be put out. They’re in the garage. Could you do that for me?”

  It wasn’t so much of a question as it was a demand, and seeing as how I worked for her, I was obligated to do it. I didn’t really mind, of course, but there was something about her tone that just really grated on me. It was like I was the help—not a hired employee. I was her servant, her inferior, and I could see it made her feel good to boss me around.

  “Sure,” I replied, forcing a smile as I followed her as she opened the garage to reveal three stinking bags of trash, probably filled with her horrible New Age diet crap that always seemed absolutely disgusting and I had no idea how she managed to eat it.

  “There they are, dear,” she said with a smile as she headed into the house. “And again, thank you so much!”

  She didn’t even wait for a reply. She just shut the door behind her and left me there with the stinking bags. My forced smile vanished immediately as I grabbed two of them and stuffed them into the enormous trash barrel. Evidently, it had been too much for her to even put them in the bins. There were plenty of great, nice people living in La Jolla, but Mrs. Albrite was not one of them.

  I finished with the trash, used a wet wipe to clean my hands, hit the garage door closer behind me and walked down the driveway to my car.

  My car sounded like a coughing old woman as I made my way up through the hills, passing all the glorious expensive homes filled with happy people, and merged onto the La Jolla Parkway. It was just early enough that the traffic wasn’t just bumper-to-bumper nonsense yet, which meant I could actually space out and think a little as I drove.

  I thought about what the weather was like back home—I still thought of New York as home, despite having been here in San Diego for the last four years. I left when I was eighteen after my father died. The long, cold, dark winters were just too much for me, and I always had an independent side to me, so I headed out for the West Coast and never looked back.

  The “winter” here meant high 60s every day, or 70s, but slightly chilly when the sun went down. Compared to the three feet of snow, icy roads and temperatures in the low teens, it was like Heaven.

  The alphas were hungry out here and there were a lot of them. The typical surfer dudes with their abs and their tans and their long hair and necklaces, the club guys with their slick suits and gold chains, the skateboard bros and the hippies. After a slew of failed dates and attempts at romance, I’d ended up settling down with my now-boyfriend, Elijah, who worked as a freelancer in the IT industry doing random jobs around the city.

  He’d grown up in Pacific Beach with his family, his father, John, who tends bar and his mother, Suzanne, who works part-time at a daycare. We were now living in a kind of crappy apartment complex in Mission Valley near the hotels. It doesn’t take a great mind to imagine the kind of strange people and things that would occasionally spill over into our neighborhood.

  “Hey, watch it, dick!” A gruff voice shouted from beside me. I glanced over to see a douchebag in a Lamborghini blast past me, obviously unhappy with my presence on the road. The bright yellow shine of his sports car stood in sharp contrast to the faded, day-old banana color of my frumpy sedan.

  “Ah, fuck you!” I shouted back, but he was already gone. I sighed and kept my head down the rest of the ride home. When I finally pulled into the driveway and saw that Elijah’s car was home, I was both relieved and also a little annoyed.

  On one hand, I had my boyfriend at home to cuddle with, but on the other hand, I’d again worked a longer day than him, and probably made a ton less money. I felt like we were spinning our wheels a bit. Elijah’s talents just weren’t being used to their fullest. He needed a steady, salaried job with a technology firm or a software company or something. He kept saying he would get one, or at least try to, but the weeks kept sliding by and nothing happened.

  I’ll have to talk to him about that soon, I thought miserably as I got out of my car and made my way up the stained driveway to the main door to the apartment. As usual, it was propped open (illegally) and I kicked away the old box of cigarettes by the doorjamb to make sure it closed and latched behind me. A shady couple was talking quietly at the end of the hall, and I made sure not to catch their eye as I slid my key into our lock and opened the door to our apartment.

  “That you, babe?” Elijah’s voice came from the couch. I set my bag down and smiled as he looked back at me.

  “Who else would it be?”

  “Long day?” he asked with his typical perceptive radar.

  “I don’t stink, do I?” I asked, thinking of Mrs. Albrite’s trash. Elijah leaned in and sniffed me.

  “Nope,” he replied. “Long day?”

  I shrugged. “Longer than yours. How’d it go at the car dealership?”

  I crashed down beside him on the couch and dropped my head on his chest. “Boring,” he replied. “Just had to install a big TV and then call the company to have them activate the Wi-Fi and ads. Most of the time was waiting on the phone for them to get their shit together.”

  “How come you look so tired then?” I asked him, running my hand across his stomach, wishing that for once I wouldn’t have to be the one to initiate things.

  “I don’t know,” he sighed, taking my hand in his. “Just…one of those days, ya know?”

  “I guess,” I replied. I knew the real answer, of course. He just wasn’t feeling inspired. His life was boring, plain and blasé. Of course, I couldn’t say much about my situation either. We were in a rut and had been in one for a w
hile now, and neither of us was sure how to get out of it.

  So I decided to be spontaneous and quickly got down on my knees in front of him. He’d changed into his sweatpants, which came down with a quick and easy tug, exposing him before me. I heard his sharp intake of breath as I took his cock into my mouth and urged it to attention as I began to suck it. He groaned, and although it took a little more coaxing than I’d like, he soon grew hard between my lips.

  “Mmmm, this is unexpected,” he smiled, running his hand through my hair. I smiled up at him like a good omega, holding his arousal with one hand and stroking his balls with the other.

  “Want to put this bad boy inside of me?” I asked him.

  He nodded, and I twisted around and presented myself to him, kneeling before him, doing my best to turn him on with my obedience. I felt my slick starting to form as he got up off the couch and took his position behind me, and gasped as he entered me. Elijah was no slouch, but his cock wasn’t devastatingly large or anything, so there was no pain as he slid into my ass, and I smiled as I felt his balls press against mine.

  “Mmmm, baby,” I moaned, putting on my best porno voice. After a long day—or even a day at work—Elijah took a little extra persuading to get going, and I’d developed the porno voice as an extra method of getting him going.

  I moaned loudly as he started thrusting and reached between my legs to grab his balls tightly, which he loved. He picked up the pace and I gripped the leg of the coffee table to brace myself against his thrusts.

  “That feel good, baby?” I asked him.

  He grunted in reply and I fell forward as he pressed his weight against me, pinning me to the floor in an uncharacteristic display of alpha-like dominance. I closed my eyes and let him take over as he kept thrusting his cock deep into my ass, which was wet with my slick, and smiled wider and wider each time his balls pressed against mine.