by Amy Bellows
“Jude,” I say. The heat companion who helped Damien get started was named Judy. We agreed she was a good namesake.
Sharita brushes her forefinger against Jude’s cheek. “You look like a Jude. Oh, aren’t you precious?”
The door to our room opens again. Abbie walks inside, guiding my mother. She smiles when she sees me. Then her gaze travels to the bundle in Marie’s arms.
“Is that… did you…”
How is she going to react? She’s always been pleased to discover I was pregnant, but this is different. This is a grandchild she’s never going to remember for longer than a few hours.
“That’s Jude, mom. Your grandchild. Would you like to hold them?”
She covers her mouth with her hand. “Oh, Tatum. They’re so beautiful.”
Damien smiles at me with more tears in his eyes. He doesn’t have to explain his relief. If my mother hadn’t adjusted to gender-neutral pronouns easily, our lives would be a lot harder because we’d have to explain it again and again. He doesn’t know my mother the way I do. She isn’t the kind of person who expects people to fit into society’s boxes. Even when she found out I was a camboy, she wasn’t disappointed, just worried one of my clients was going to kidnap me. She may understand they/them pronouns, but the internet is still a mystery to her.
My mother walks over to my bedside where Marie and Sharita are standing.
“I’m Gwen.” She holds her hand out to Sharita.
Sharita gives her a big hug. “I know. You and I are good friends.”
My mother relaxes in Sharita’s arms, like she always does. Maybe she can feel Sharita’s love and acceptance. I know I can.
Marie passes Jude to Gwen, and our two omega mothers hover over our baby like mother hens. I can’t think of a better way to welcome little Jude into the world.
“You look just like your omega daddy when he was a baby,” my mother says. “You’re gonna be a looker, I can already tell. Gonna break everyone’s hearts.”
Sharita chuckles. “Like your alpha daddy too. Everyone’s gonna fall in love with you.”
Damien leans down and whispers in my ear. “What are the chances of them giving Jude back to us?”
I smile up at him. “Not good.”
He threads his fingers through mine, and we watch our favorite women in the world fiercely love on our baby.
38
Damien
Three Months Later…
Gwen mixes the butter into the mashed potatoes while Tatum stirs the gravy by her side. My omega mother’s busy folding the cloth napkins into animal shapes, and my alpha mother is depositing goblets of candy next to each place setting with a plastic plate.
The relationship they have with the children I sired as a sperm donor is much like mine. We cherish this one day a year when we get to see the children, but we understand the limitations. Their omega fathers wanted a sperm donor, not a co-parent. It’s best the children understand that boundary too. I’ll always be there for them if they need me, but only as a mentor, not a father.
I get to be a father to Jude, who is currently sleeping in my arms. They didn’t sleep hardly at all last night, so it’s no wonder they’re tired. I’m tired too.
My sister, Susan, sits beside me, watching Jude sleep. Even though this is a family event, she’s wearing a suit, and her hair has been recently buzzed. She’s all business. But there’s a softness in her eyes as she watches Jude.
Abbie rushes into the kitchen, almost knocking into the extra table we have set up to accommodate all the extra people. Like Susan, she’s in a suit, only hers is a dress suit paired with a pair of black pumps. She must have come straight from work too.
“I fucked up the pumpkin pie. I’m so sorry. I put it in my oven this morning while I was getting ready, and then I just went to work and left it in the oven. I didn’t mean to mess up Thanksgiving. I’m so sorry, Damien.”
Today isn’t technically Thanksgiving—it’s the day after, so the kids can still celebrate with their families. But today is the day we make a big dinner. Yesterday, Abbie came over and played Scrabble with us all day because she didn’t have any family to spend Thanksgiving with.
I didn’t know that until Tatum told me.
“You didn’t mess up Thanksgiving. We still have banana cream pie. Don’t worry about it. The kids probably had pumpkin pie yesterday,” I say.
My sister stands and holds out her hand to Abbie. “I’m Dr. Ringdal. I hear you work with my brother-in-law at the SLASW.”
“Her name is Susan,” I say because there are three Dr. Ringdals present today. My sister is just trying to show off.
“Uh, I’m Abbie. I’m a lawyer.” Her cheeks flush just like Tatum’s as she shakes hands with my sister.
“She’s family,” Tatum calls out.
Abbie smiles nervously. “Sorry about the pie. I really am very sorry.”
“Would you like to hold Jude?” I ask her.
“You haven’t offered to let me hold Jude yet,” my sister says.
I look back and forth between them. “How about you share?” I stand and gently give Jude to Abbie, who stares back at me with terrified eyes. My sister is intimidating, but Abbie can handle her. I gesture to the spot on the couch that I just vacated, and Abbie sits at the edge.
“You’re not giving them enough cranial support,” Susan says. “Here, let me help.”
Abbie eyes her warily. “I think Jude is fine. How many babies have you held?”
“I don’t hold babies often, but—”
“Well, I hold my clients’ babies all of the time. I’m giving Jude enough ‘cranial’ support, thank you.”
Tatum turns around to watch the argument unfold. I don’t blame him. This is going to be entertaining.
“I was only trying to help—”
The doorbell rings.
Tatum smiles at me. “Go answer the door.”
A warmth spreads through me. He’ll finally get to meet all of the small people who mean so much to me.
Danny and his dads show up first. The father who carried him said the heat he spent with me was his one last effort to spark an attraction to alphas within himself. It didn’t work. He’s now happily bonded to another omega, and they’ve adopted two little girls together. They jump inside my house too, grinning at me as their pigtails bounce up and down.
Next comes Chloe, with her dad in tow. I spent five heats with her father. As an aromantic man who loves sex, he’s often said heats with me were his greatest indulgence. He’s one of the few clients I’ve been able to maintain a friendship with after our professional relationship was over. He dotes on his dear Chloe, who hands me a Christmas card with her photo on the cover as she steps inside my house.
After Chloe, Marietta and Adam arrive. Their father uses a wheelchair and found dating to be tricky. He gave birth to two beautiful children who keep him very busy. He told me he’s seeing someone now. I hope that works out.
Last, there’s Susi. Her father let me choose her name, and I named her after my sister. She’s traded out her Elsa costume for a yellow ball gown with matching yellow gloves. She curtsies to me.
“Are you Belle?” I ask.
She shakes her head. “I’m only wearing a Belle costume. I’m still Susi.”
Her father and I smile at each other. At forty-six, he’s older for a first-time dad. He chose to get pregnant with Susi when it became clear that the mate he waited for his whole life wasn’t coming. It’s nice to see that he’s been able to find happiness alone.
I follow all of the children and their fathers into the dining room. There, I find my mothers chatting animatedly with the kids—even my alpha mother, who is normally so reserved. Three of their fathers stand with Tatum in the kitchen, chatting with him like they’ve been good friends for years. The other two are cooing at Jude, who is now in Susan’s arms.
Tatum glances back at me and smiles. I don’t think it ever occurred to him to be threatened by these men or think this was weird. He simply jokes around
and flashes them his beautiful dimpled smile.
If there’s anything in the world better than this, I’m not aware of it. I have everything I could ever want right here within these walls.
The world is such a hard place to change. Sometimes it feels impossible to make a difference. But if you’re lucky, there’s a pocket of the world where you can bring joy, and that joy sparkles as brightly as the sun.
I don’t care what anyone says. I’ve lived a good life. And now that I have Tatum and Jude, there’s much more joy to come.
For an erotic short of Tatum and Damien exploring taboo role play together, click here.
Coming Soon
Chapter One
Thomas
The man waiting for me in the corner of Spice Coffee Shop doesn’t look up as I approach. He’s exactly how I pictured—tall and polished in an expensive suit with flecks of silver in his dark hair. It’s not hard to believe that he has an extra 100k lying around to give an omega willing to carry his child.
The ad said he wanted someone intelligent. Check.
Someone attractive. That’s fairly subjective, so I emailed him a photo. Check.
Someone responsible. I sent him the link to my business’s website—a game shop I’ve kept open for the last five years with a healthy 4.8 star rating on Yelp. Check.
Someone willing to take a drug test. I’m too boring for that to be an issue. Check.
Someone willing to live in his “pool house” for the full nine months and be fed by his nutritionist. Triple check to all of that. Sounds like a vacation. Except for the part where I finally get to have a kid, only to give it to someone else. But the ad said something important—something that made me feel like I could be a surrogate for this guy. The signed contract includes required monthly visits—weekly for the first six months. So at least I’d be able to see the baby.
There’s only one thing the ad demanded that I blatantly lied about. I had to get him to meet with me just this once so I could explain.
If this doesn’t pan out, I don’t know what I’m going to do.
“Uh, Sebastian?” I say, because he’s still not looking up from his book.
He jumps, spilling his coffee on the pages. “I apologize. I’m in the middle of a very good mystery.” He sets his coffee cup down and wipes his hand primly on the napkin next to his mug.
“Which mystery?” I ask. I’m more of a nonfiction guy myself, but if this guy likes talking about books, I’m willing to try a few mysteries out.
“Faithful Place by Tana French. It’s brilliant,” he says, standing and outstretching his hand. I shake it firmly. “I’m Sebastian Adams.”
“Thomas. Thomas Perry. I’m going to get some coffee. Just wanted to let you know I’m here.”
“I’ll pay. How do you take your coffee?” He steps forward, knocking the table, and spilling more coffee onto his book. Luckily, it appears to be his own copy. Most of my books come from the library, so watching him spill coffee all willy-nilly on his book is stressing me out.
“Oh dear. Well, now you know how clumsy I am. Best be honest about it now, right? If we’re to be fathers together, I suppose we’ll have to get to know one another.”
I’m glad he feels that way because if he wants me to be his surrogate, that will be necessary. It’s difficult to get an omega pregnant if they’re bonded to someone else—even if they wish they weren’t. Even if their alpha left them years ago. So if Sebastian wants the artificial insemination to work, we’ll have to spend time together.
I just have to hope he’s up for that. An unbonding procedure is 50,000 dollars. That’s a lot of money for a guy who lives off the profits of a small board game shop. But I’d do anything to stop aching for an alpha who doesn’t want me anymore.
Even have a baby for a stranger.
“I like my coffee black. Dark roast.”
He nods, and walks up to the counter. He orders a large black coffee for me, and leaves a five dollar bill in the tip jar when the barista’s back is turned. Then he proceeds to trip, and spill half of my coffee from the mug the barista just gave him down the front of my shirt.
“Oh, goodness. I’m so sorry. I’m just a bit nervous, that’s all. Let me get more napkins. And more coffee.”
I laugh. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.” The coffee is hot, but it’s not too bad. I take the mug from him, “This should be more than enough coffee. But thanks.” I walk over to the coffee prep station, and grab a few napkins to dab at my navy blue button-up shirt. It’s the only good dress shirt I have. Selling board games to nerds doesn’t exactly require me to wear a suit.
“Perhaps you’ll let me buy you a new shirt then,” he says.
“Nah. It’s fine. I should be able to get it out in the wash.” I sit down at his table, and he sits across from me where his book is now warping from the coffee.
“It’s good to meet you. I’ve enjoyed our conversations online, but this is much better. Thank you for coming today.”
“Yeah, of course. It’s good to meet you too. I mean, I know it’s you hiring me, but it’s personal...”
He puts up a hand. “You don’t need to explain. I completely understand. If you’re carrying a child for nine months, of course you want to know that child is going to a good home. I’ll be honest with you, Thomas. I plan to hire a nanny and plenty of help. I’m not under the delusion that I can take care of a baby on my own. But I’m forty-three. I’m not getting any younger. And I want a child.”
He told me part of this story online. He and his mate amicably separated four years ago. They went through an unbonding procedure, because they’re rich as fuck, and they can afford something like that. Sebastian’s tried online dating and what he called “going out on the town,” but he hasn’t been able to find an omega who “suited him.” So he decided to forego dating altogether and put an ad for a surrogate in the same local newspaper I run an ad in for my shop. Apparently, the surrogacy services said that his demands were “too extensive,” and they probably are. But beggars can’t be choosers. A regular surrogacy service would never accept a bonded omega.
“I understand,” I say.
“So, you said your undergraduate degree was in philosophy, right?”
I take a sip of my coffee. “Yeah. Super useful.”
“I like philosophy. I had to study finance. Better for the family business.”
He still hasn’t mentioned what “the family business” is. I’m assuming something stock related.
“So, you read mysteries. Why Tana French?” I ask, gesturing to the book.
“Her novels take place in Dublin, and I’m fascinated with Irish culture. Are you reading anything right now?” he asks.
“The Poisoner’s Handbook. It’s a nonfiction book about the scientists who learned how to determine if someone was poisoned, and which poison was used. These scientists did their research during the roaring twenties, so there’s quite a bit of information about wood alcohol and the other dangerous stuff people drank in the speak-easies at the time. It’s really interesting.”
“Then you’re a reader?” He brings his hand to his chest. “Thank goodness. I never know what to say to people who don’t read. Whatever would you talk about with them? The weather?”
I laugh. “I don’t know.”
It’s hard not to like Sebastian Adams. I hope he’ll try to understand my situation instead of turning me away.
“So, uh, about the compensation,” I say, because I don’t want to waste his time. And because we have to talk about this, whether I like it or not.
“You would like more money?”
“I, uh—”
“That would be fine. Perhaps 100,000 is a bit low. How much more would you like?”
“No. I mean, I’d be willing to do it for less.” His willingness to pay more makes me uneasy. If 100,000 is just a drop in the bucket, why on earth would he be willing to hire a bonded surrogate simply to save some cash?
“For less? That’s nonsense,”
he says it as flippantly as he offered to buy me coffee. “I won’t pay you a penny less.”
I need to tell him. Now. “I’d be willing to do it for 50,000.”
“But I just said—”
I take in a deep breath and unfasten the top button of my shirt, pulling the fabric to the side to show him the scar of my bond bite.
His eyes widen. “I specifically stated that I wanted an unbonded omega. If your alpha is putting you up to this—”
“My alpha is gone. I need an unbonding procedure. It costs 50,000 dollars. Please.”
“But if your alpha is dead, an insurance company will pay for the procedure.”
I don’t mention that if my alpha was dead, I wouldn’t be sitting here with him. The procedure would need to be completed immediately, or I’d die with him.
“He’s not dead. He’s just… gone.”
Turns out insurance companies don’t give a fuck if you find Doxum in your alpha’s wallet—a pill that will allow someone to have sex with someone besides their mate without getting sick. And if you take your alpha back when he promises he’ll never do it again, they don’t care when you find Doxum in his wallet a second time. Or a third.
They don’t even care when that alpha leaves you, even though you really should have left him. But omegas are the ones who wear the bond bite in a relationship. They’re the ones who get to ache every day for their lost mate when it’s all over.
“How long as he been gone?” Sebastian asks.
“Two years.” The two longest years of my life. Even longer than the years I let him cheat on me because I was afraid to be alone.
“So… your bond bite…”
“It hurts. All of the time. I know you wanted an unbonded omega. I get it. But if you take the time to get to know me, and allow me to take Doxum during the artificial insemination, it would still be possible for me to get pregnant. I promise to do everything you ask. I’ll eat whatever your nutritionist gives me. I’ll work out every day. I’ll be the healthiest surrogate ever. I swear to you.”
