Adrenaline Rush: M/M Mpreg Alpha Male Romance (Never Too Late Book 2)

by Aiden Bates

  "The delicious beverage you're about to enjoy is hot." Pete couldn't dispute his brother's accurate assessment of his life. "I keep up with my dishes."

  "With soap, which dries out your hands." He covered his mouth. "Do you have any ice?"

  Pete waved his hand at the refrigerator and his icemaker just as his phone started to ring. He pulled it out to answer it, only to see Ozzy's name flash across the caller ID. "This is Pete," he greeted, just in case Ozzy's boss had gotten hold of his phone or something.

  "Pete!" Pete could hear Ozzy's broad smile in his voice. "Pete, this is Ozzy Morris. How are things?"

  Pete couldn't help but smile in return. How did people work with Ozzy? He just distributed sunshine everywhere he went. "Things are okay. How are things with you?"

  "Things here are going okay. I thought maybe it would be okay if we went out and grabbed a bite to eat. Maybe I could give you an update about the case?"

  Pete's breath caught in his throat. He knew that he shouldn't read too much into it. It wasn't a date, for crying out loud. Alphas didn't go out on dates with pregnant omegas. Still, he wanted to spend a little time in a handsome alpha's company, even if it didn't mean anything. "You bet. When were you thinking?"

  "Maybe tomorrow night?" Ozzy made a wincing sound. "Is that too soon?"

  "My social calendar is pretty open these days, Ozzy. I'm free tomorrow."

  "Really? I mean—okay. Great. I'll pick you up at six-thirty."

  "Sounds good. I'll see you tomorrow."

  They hung up, and Pete looked up to find his brother openly staring at him. "What?"

  Angus' lip curled. "Did you really just make a date? Right now?"

  Pete spread his hands out. "It's hardly a date, Angus. I'm pregnant. No one wants to date a pregnant guy, okay? That was the cop who helped get me out of the bank. He wants to give me an update."

  Angus drummed his fingers on top of the wooden table. "Oh really? And are we on a first name basis with all of the members of the SWAT team now or just this Ozzy?" He frowned. "Is Ozzy even his real name? It sounds made up. No self-respecting police force would hire someone named after Ozzy Osborne."

  Pete flipped his brother off. "Yes, he's a real cop. When he's not charging into a hostage situation, he's a cold case detective. Detective Morris is very handsome, and very smart, and damn good at his job, thank you very much." He sipped at his tea.

  "So it is a date. Damn it, Pete, don't you learn from your screw ups?"

  Pete slapped a hand onto the table. "It's not a date, damn it, and what the hell do you mean by my screw ups?"

  "Oh, I don't know, the damn basketball you've got under your shirt?" Angus pointed to Pete's baby bump. "Mooning around over men is what got you into this situation in the first place!"

  "Oh my God, Angus, having sex with an old and expired condom is what got me into this situation in the first place. Not 'mooning around over men.' I was never emotionally attached to the father; I was horny, which happens with omegas. It's not like you don't have casual sex. Or do I need to remind you of the time that I had to sneak Brenda out of the house for you?"

  "Okay, but that was—"

  "Six months ago." Pete glowered, and Angus wilted. "Keep your shaming to yourself. It's not a date, I'm well aware that having a baby means that I'm going to be alone forever now, and I don't need you or Mom constantly reminding me. I'm still allowed to find men attractive, and I'm allowed to enjoy their company. I'm pregnant, not dead."

  Angus slumped down. "No. You're not dead. I'm sorry. I shouldn't sit here and act like you're supposed to be some kind of a monk." He squeezed out a forced-looking smile. "So. A hot cop, huh? I never realized that you were into the whole man in uniform thing."

  "What can I say? I guess you had to be there." Pete's whole body softened as he thought about Ozzy. "I kind of feel bad for you. You'll never get the whole experience. You'll never meet a guy and get bowled over by his scent—in a good way, not in a oh my God this guy hasn't showered in three weeks kind of way."

  Angus pointed at him. "Kip was a wilderness survival instructor. He'd just gotten back from a trip!"

  "He could have taken the time to shower before meeting his boyfriend's family. That's all I'm saying." Pete wrinkled his nose. "Anyway, nothing's going to happen, don't worry, but I'm going to go and talk to him. I guess there's something weird about the gun that the leader used in the robbery, and Ozzy's on the case."

  "What a coincidence." Angus grinned at him and took a tentative sip of his tea. "He just happens to be working that case when you just happen to be involved with this case."

  "I know, I know." Pete shook his head. "I'll pretend you're right for a little while, okay?"

  "It's not pretend when it's true," Angus teased in a singsong voice. "Listen, give some serious thought to moving back home, okay? I know it's not something you want to do. You value your independence. I get that. Well, okay, I don't get that, but I respect that it's important to you. You've pulled it off for a long time, but it's different now with a kid on the way. You're not just living for yourself anymore, and you're a witness to a violent crime."

  "Ugh, Angus—" Pete sat up a little straighter.

  “Seriously. Talk to your hot cop about this. He'll agree with me. If you don't have an alpha to protect you, then you need to take what's being offered, even if it isn't what you wanted when you left home. It's comfortable. It's luxurious."

  "It's a prison, Angus. I'm not raising my daughter in a prison." Pete kept his hands around his mug.

  "You're risking her being hurt, Pete. And you know it. Are you really willing to risk her safety because you're feeling stubborn?" Angus got up. "You've got time. Give some thought to what I said, and let Mom know when you've decided to come home."

  "Have a good trip home, Angus." Pete didn't get up to watch his brother head back out to the car. He knew that Angus hadn't driven himself out there. He didn't want to think about the driver waiting outside in the cold.

  He cleaned up from their tea and did his best to clean up the carpets after Angus had tracked salt and snow over them. Once that was done, he retreated to his office. He had a few work leads that he should chase down.

  Was he being selfish? He didn't think so. Then again, he wasn't sure that anyone ever really knew when they were being selfish. He had a life, one that he'd built for himself. Sure, he was lonely. He had omega friends, but they'd all gotten claimed by now, and their alphas didn't like them to hang around with an unclaimed omega like Pete. Still, he had the respect and acceptance of his colleagues and two Pulitzers under his belt. He wasn't just some dilettante.

  Was he putting his child at risk? Maybe. Was it a different risk than what other parents in a similar situation did every day? He couldn't be sure. He didn't think so. Maybe he should ask Ozzy. He didn't want to end his career—his real life, even though he'd still be alive—but he'd do what he had to for his daughter. He just didn't think that his mother or brother had the first clue as to what was right for either the baby or for Pete.

  ...

  Ozzy looked at the transcript from the anonymous tip line. The state tip line got hundreds of tips per day, and most of them were about as useless as a person might expect for tips that got texted anonymously to a tip line. Apparently Mickey Mouse was responsible for everything from the Boston Strangler's crimes to a meth lab out in Athol. The damned rat with the polka-dotted boxers was a criminal mastermind, and someone needed to get the proof to put him away pronto.

  This tip, though, had mentioned the Harbaugh case specifically. They'd splashed a call for information relating to Harbaugh's case on the late-night Saturday news once the connection between the botched robbery and the old murder was known, but they hadn't expected to get much traction with it. It was just something they did sometimes, throwing the request at the wall to see if it would stick.

  This time, it stuck. The text consisted of four words: Check out Dawn Moriarty.

  Ozzy had run a quick check on the name. They h
ad to check out all possible leads, of course. He found a handful of Dawn Moriartys in Massachusetts, but only one with an active arrest record in Central Massachusetts during the mid-1990s. All of those arrests had been for petty crimes: hitchhiking, prostitution, solicitation at truck stops, loitering. Harbaugh was the officer of record for some of those arrests. He hadn't always been the arresting officer, though, and he certainly hadn't arrested her on the night he was killed.

  Still, there was enough history there that it was worth looking into. She probably wasn't a suspect. Her record showed that she did know Harbaugh, and that she would almost certainly have some ideas about where to look. He got to work trying to track down her current whereabouts.

  He had others he could talk to, as well. Some of Harbaugh's friends were probably still on the force, and he could circle back and find those that had retired. It couldn't be that hard. He'd go talk to the retirees first. He didn't expect to get anything other than full cooperation from friends of the deceased—no one was more eager to nail a cop killer than other cops, for crying out loud—but the case still had to be worked like any other cold case. The guys who had retired would be more likely to share information that could incriminate someone than guys who were still on the force, who could face retaliation.

  He didn't work with anyone else on the case, not as an assigned partner. Most of the guys were busy, and Ozzy was no different from anyone else in not wanting to work with Nenci. He did pull in Langer for a little bit of backup, though, as they worked to track down Harbaugh's known associates and partners.

  "Know what's weird about this?" Langer shuffled through the stack of files on his desk.

  "Other than the fact you've got an octopus-print tie?" Ozzy wrinkled his nose at the tie.

  "Other than my octopus-print tie, yes. What's weird is that all of the guys who, logically, should have worked the closest with Harbaugh, they're all retired now. There are a couple of guys from his cohort who are still around, but they don't seem to have worked with him all that often." Langer turned his laptop around to show him. "I mean, all of the guys whose names show up most often on rosters and whatever with Harbaugh's, they're all retired."

  "That is weird." Ozzy crossed the room to come look at the report. "Some of those guys would be younger than Nenci, right?"

  "Retired. All of 'em." Langer pointed to a few names.

  "Huh." Ozzy shrugged. "Well, we'll have to go and see what there is to see. In the meantime, I'm going to go talk to Pete Logan, Photographer, again."

  "Really?" Langer smirked up at him. "How many times can you go talk to a witness before you give up the ghost and admit that he doesn't have anything new to add?"

  Ozzy blushed. "Look, he smells good, okay? Kind of citrus-y."

  Langer stared at him for a long moment. "This is the pregnant guy, right?"

  Ozzy stiffened. "Yeah, so?"

  "Well, I mean, it's not yours. Who's to say that his alpha won't be back and looking to step in, you know? You don't want to have trouble like that." Langer wrinkled his nose.

  "Trouble like what, man? He's a great guy. It's not a crime to go hang out with a great guy, and if the father isn't sticking around then why shouldn't I show an interest?" Ozzy stretched and stood up.

  "Because you want to be with a guy who's having your babies, man. Not someone who's having someone else's." Langer just looked up at him. "Are you sure you're not just looking for a fight, man?"

  Ozzy scowled and clenched his fist, but let it go. "Probably not." He shrugged. "I haven't given the father much thought since he said that there wasn't an alpha. So. I don't know what his deal is, but it's just dinner."

  "Hmm." Langer turned back to his screen. "Well, don't forget, there's quid pro quo here. I helped you with this, you said you'd help me catalogue the different crime scenes for the Anholts case."

  "I'm on it like salsa on a chip, man." Ozzy jumped up and grabbed his jacket.

  Langer gave him a funny look. "You mean trying to slide off and onto my shirt at the first possible opportunity?"

  "Uh, exactly." Ozzy laughed and sneaked out toward his car.

  He drove back toward Sudbury and collected Pete, who looked amazing. How a guy could look this good at six and a half months pregnant astounded Ozzy. Shouldn't he be all swollen, blotchy, and uncomfortable?

  They went for Thai food. A few people stared openly at Pete, but he ignored them. "Do you get that a lot?" Ozzy asked, as one old woman tried to touch Pete's belly.

  "All the time." Pete shrugged and sipped from his water. "It's kind of gross. Like, okay, I brought this on myself, I get that, but I don't… I mean, I got pregnant—I didn't consent to my body becoming public property." He squirmed.

  Ozzy made a face. "Your alpha is supposed to be protecting you from that kind of thing."

  Pete huffed out a little laugh. "Yeah, well, that's not really an option these days. And I brought it on myself, so whatever, but still." He grinned wryly and took up a forkful of pad Thai. "Whatever. I can live with it for another three months. So what's up with the case, anyway?"

  Ozzy tugged at his collar. "Oh, right. The case." His cheeks burned. "Well, the case is proceeding. The case against the robbers is a slam dunk. We're just trying to figure out what it has to do with the cop murder, you know? It's bizarre. I'm finding a few little weird things about that case that are probably nothing. That's kind of the way it is with cold cases. If they were easy to solve they wouldn't be cold, right?"

  "I guess." Pete snorted. "Everything probably looks like a bunch of crap until you find the common thread."

  "Pretty much. You don't want to hear about pouring over two decades worth of time sheets to figure out who worked the same shifts as a dead cop, though."

  "Don't you have software that can do that?" Pete blinked at him.

  "Well, yeah, but you have to actually look at them too. You can't just let a computer do your thinking for you. Would you let a computer just do all of your photo editing for you?" Ozzy circled his fork at Pete.

  Pete shuddered. "Perish the thought."

  "All right then."

  Pete glanced off into the distance. "I guess that makes sense."

  Ozzy looked over his food for a moment. "So it's really just you? You're going to raise your kid by yourself?" He knew that his question was over the line, that he didn't have the right to ask it at all, but he had to know. It seemed so brave, and so terrible.

  Pete shrugged, face unperturbed. "I kind of have to, don't I? I mean, I'm going to hire a nanny and everything—I'm not going to quit my job—but it's not like there's anyone else to help out."

  Ozzy's heart gave a twist. "It'll be hard. Can't you track down the father and make him help or something? Or get help from your folks?"

  Pete snickered. "The father isn't someone I'd want around my kid, to be honest. I had a moment of weakness. It had been a while, and I'm an omega. I have needs, okay?" He blushed a deep, dark red. "Unintended consequences, but hey, it happens."

  Ozzy chuckled. "I guess I'm having trouble believing that you could ever be alone for a while, unless you wanted to be." His own cheeks got hot, and he knew that he was blushing almost as dark as Pete. "Sorry—I don't want to creep you out or make you think I'm coming onto you. I'm just saying, you're an attractive guy…and at a stage when most guys don't look their best, you know?" God, he should just stop speaking. He kept digging himself a deeper hole.

  Pete chuckled. "Thanks. I think. But yeah. It had been a while, and I shouldn't have been weak with that particular individual. But anyway. My mother isn't exactly suited to babysitting, and my brother's not someone I'd trust to supervise either. Which is fine." He waved a hand over his dinner. "We'll be fine." He looked up at Ozzy through his long lashes, making Ozzy weak in the knees. "Actually, my mother and brother apparently want me to move back in with them."

  Ozzy wrinkled his nose. "Wait, what? Why?"

  "They think I'm unsafe out here." Pete made a face. "They've convinced themselves, or at least A
ngus has convinced himself, that the bank robbers will get out on a technicality and come kill me and the baby in our sleep."

  Ozzy nodded. "Ah. I get it." He shrugged. "It's an outside chance, but do your folks get that you literally have a dozen other witnesses? You're not in any specific danger. You have nothing to worry about, and they have nothing to worry about. If you want help with the baby, by all means, move back, but if you don't want to go back then don't."

  Pete nodded. "That was my thought, but you know. They wanted a second opinion." He glared off to the side for half a second, before shaking his head a little and turning back to Ozzy. "So what is it that you do when you're not digging into old cold cases or besieging bank robbers?"