Page 86 of Breeding Clinic

“I have to go,” I say. “There’s a lot to do right now. You’ll tell them I stopped by? Give them my love?” And tell them that I’m pregnant and getting mated. I don’t need to ask her the last part. There aren’t any secrets within a pack.

“I will.” She shows me to the door and gives me a big hug on the porch. “I love you, baby. And send me a sonogram photo so I can put it on my fridge. I can’t wait to tell my scrapbooking ladies about my first grandbaby on the way. Sharon won’t shut up about her son’s big Wall Street job. Maybe this’ll give the group something new to talk about.”

She hugs me tighter, and I squeeze her harder in return. Then we pull apart. “I will.”

Once I’m back in my car and driving home, I can finally relax. Ripping that bandage off was hard, but I’m glad it’s over. I didn’t like keeping this a secret from them, but I couldn’t handle the pity from another lost pregnancy.

Our baby girl kicks my bladder, as if she’s proving she’s in there. When I get home, there’s a package on my porch. Not the brown-boxed shipping kind. The hand-delivered white box tied with a big red velvet ribbon sort.

Despite its size, it’s not heavy when I pick it up. I tuck it under one arm and get my key in the lock with the other. The minute I’m inside, Waffles races to the door, his tail quivering and his mouth open in a hungry, cackling meow.

“I’ll feed you in a second, but I really have to pee,” I tell him. I set the box down and run to the bathroom. I can’t go an hour without peeing now. Coffee was probably a mistake, but it was so good. It was worth it.

After, I put food in Waffles’ bowl, an early dinner since I probably won’t be coming back tonight. I give him fresh water, and check that his robot litter box is fine. It was ridiculously expensive, but worth every penny. Especially while I’m pregnant and can’t scoop it.

I forget about the box until it catches my eye. There’s no note. “What are you?” I ask it while I cut the red ribbon off and rub my thumb along its nap. It’s real velvet. Its contents are wrapped in crisp, scented tissue paper. There’s an embossed sticker with the name of a clothing boutique holding the two edges together. I break the seal and start pulling garments out.

There’s a white dress inside. It’s formal and made of thick white satin. Long sleeves flare out like a bell before they gather at the wrist again. The neckline is an off-the-shoulder sweetheart cut with pleated fabric that cups over the breasts. The dress is fitted to stretch over my baby bump, then flare out atthe hips in a wide circle of skirt. The wide neckline is sexy for an omega. It’ll show off my neck and nape.

Underneath the dress, there’s lingerie. A strapless bra and matching panties in the softest shade of pink. The panties are smooth in the front, but an open cage of straps in the back. Inside the big box are three smaller ones. Nude pumps with a modest heel take up the larger box. In the smaller one is a sex toy. A black silicone wearable that’s shaped like a butterfly with a rounded protrusion that curls inside. In the tiniest box is jewelry. Silver drop earrings with starbursts at the ends and a matching bracelet.

Only Liam would think to give me a gorgeous, sexy dress and jewelry and then send it along with a sex toy. I pull out my phone and load our group chat.

Kat

What’s all this stuff for?

Liam

7 pm

Gabriel

We’ll pick you up

Matthew

Stay home, there’s another surprise coming

???

A knock on my door pulls me away from my phone. On my porch there’s a young black man with a buzzed head and gold eyeshadow. He’s holding a big rolling silver suitcase. “Are you my lucky lady?” he asks with a grin.

“I guess so.”

He looks over my shoulder into my house. “Where can I set up? I need an outlet.”

“What are you here for?” I ask, pulling the door open for him.

“Your hair and makeup, honey. Your beaus ordered you the deluxe glam package. Cute cat.” He stoops to pet Waffles.

“Is the kitchen okay?” I ask him, showing him where it is.

“It’s perfect.” He puts his suitcase on my table and unfolds it like an accordion. The top comes up and the sides butterfly open. Drawers swivel out revealing rows upon rows of cosmetics. He pulls curling irons of various sizes out of the big bottom section and plugs them in.

“Can I see your dress?” he asks. “So I know how to do your hair.”

I pull the dress from the box and hide the other stuff in the tissue paper.

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