Page 120 of Bonding the Band

“What are you doing here?” Phin asked. “Shouldn’t you be driving back?”

“Oh yeah, I sold the car.” He shrugged, his grin never slipping as he plopped down into the recliner next to me, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “I didn’t want to be apart from the pack. I’ll just buy a new car back home.”

Beckett sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. A smile tugged at the corners of his lips, though, so I knew he didn’t mind too much.

“Let’s go home.” I smiled.

Arlo chuckled as he lightly kissed my forehead, a hand resting on the top of my bump. “My home is right here.”

Chapter 46

Beckett

We had been home for four days, and they were four of the best days I’d had in recent memory. With no band obligations, we spent all our time together, looking after our heavily pregnant omega.

Meadow had been spending most of her time in the nest, but when she wanted a little movement, she would go for a dip in the pool. We never complained; getting to see her in tiny swimsuits would always be a win. There was something about the rounded stomach that made my inner alpha want to beat his chest with joy, even though I wasn’t the reason she was in that state. She was beautiful and all ours.

Phin had been cooking nonstop, and enjoying every minute of it. Meadow could only eat small portions this late in the pregnancy, but she never turned down a nibble when Phin presented her with some new plate.

The strawberry salad with feta and balsamic glaze had been a success in my books, which shocked me, considering I staunchly believed that fruit didn’t belong in a salad. Phin had been insisting we all had to expand our palates, so the baby didn’t take cues from us when they started solid food and refused stuff for no reason.

Meadow was taking a nap in the nest while I vacuumed the hallway. We had been cleaning pretty regularly to ensure the house was in good condition when the baby came. We had discussed hiring cleaners, to ensure everything was in tip-top shape, but Meadow didn’t like the idea of someone else being in her space this close to the birth. Luckily, the home we’d purchased in Lakelyn Fields had been professionally cleaned before they’d put it on the market, and I’d snapped it up that same day.

Pregnancy nesting was a whole other kind of crazy. Omegas were possessive of their nests at the best of times. When they were preparing to have a child, they went into overdrive. Meadow had cleaned the new nursery and her nest, rearranging everything time and time again, and every time she would stress that it wasn’t good enough and redo the entire thing.

“Beck?” Meadow’s small voice called out behind me.

I turned off the vacuum and spun around, jolting to see her immediately behind me. Sometimes she moved like a ninja.

Her face was pinched with obvious discomfort. That wasn’t entirely unusual this late in her pregnancy. She had been experiencing a lot of lower back pain, and we had been regularly giving her back massages and foot rubs, because on top of everything else her body was going through, her ankles had started to swell.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” I asked. “You need to be resting. You hardly slept last night. Are your Braxton Hicks worse?”

The practice contractions were so unfair. It wasn’t enough that Meadow would have to go through labor, but she had to havepracticelabor pains. She was starting to get dark circles under her eyes, which was upsetting, because we were desperately hoping she could rest before the baby came.

Meadow shook her head, her voice shaking as she told me, “I-I think these are real labor pains.”

That was all I needed to hear to spring into action. Guiding Meadow to the den that was nearby, I sat her down on the couch before grabbing my phone and texting the pack group chat.

Beckett:

BABY TIME!

I probably should have added a little more detail, but I simply shoved my phone back into my pocket, returning my attention to Meadow, who was breathing deeply as she clutched her belly.

“What do you want to do?” I asked her.

A large part of me wanted to take control and run the situation, but Meadow had her own plans. She had discussed every addition and adjustment with us, but I figured I would ask, in case the reality of the impending birth had her changing her mind.

Now was not the time to make any mistakes.

“I need to get changed.” She spoke through gritted teeth.

I resisted the urge to ask her why she needed to get changed. She was wearing one of my oversized crew neck shirts, which pulled tightly over the bump, and a pair of sleeping shorts. With her hair piled on the top of her head, she looked downright adorable.

“Do you want my help?” I asked, even though I knew there was no way in hell she was going to be able to get changed on her own.

We also needed to start timing the contractions. I remembered that much, so I pulled out my phone.

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