Page 47 of The Beta: Part Three
Oooooohhhhhhhh.
“You can tell already? I thought it would be a little longer before we'd know.”
“We can smell the difference. I will personally try to keep my smothering to a minimum. I know you don't like it. I think the only ones who might not give you room to turn your head are Trent and Devon. Trent is already anxious, and Devon has a difficult time handling things that he has no control over. They may be a bit...intrusive.”
“You mean obnoxious,” I sigh. “I can't complain, though. If I was in their position I'd be a nervous wreck. I'd check on my omega every few minutes and probably drive her insane.”
He chuckles and kisses my forehead. “Are you happy, cupcake? Saying you want things and getting them are sometimes two different things.”
I take the time to think about that. I don't feel pregnant, not yet. But if Kaleb says he can tell a difference in my scent then I believe him. I tick through the next thirty weeks. That's roughly seven heats I will not be having while I'm pregnant, then another twelve to twenty that I shouldn't have while I'm nursing the baby. And I get to hold him and watch him grow and be loved while I enjoy my alphas and Jasper without any of it being ruined by a heat cycle every few weeks. I'm fucking fantastic.
“I'm happy. I'm going to get fat, though.”
“God, I hope you do. You're beautiful as you are, always, but with a little belly, then breasts full with milk, and the extra weight you'll need to put on...” he trails off and I feel his hand twist between us to adjust himself.
“Pervert,” I giggle. “You say that now, but when I'm big as a house and trying to ride you, you'll –“
He covers my mouth and growls into my ear. “Don't say it. You really are exhausted and my cock has been fucked raw. If I let myself think too long about that scenario it will lead to worse conditions.”
~
I am significantly less excited three weeks later. I am sick as fuck. I can't keep anything down. I want to cry every four fucking minutes. And every breath anyone takes pisses me off. Nothing is clean enough, but I can't clean for longer than about ten minutes before I'm sprinting to a bathroom to puke. Alex says I should just carry a bucket around with me, but I already feel so disgusting that carrying a bucket of vomit around everywhere I go is more than I can tolerate even thinking about.
And Nathan and Trent keep having to leave. They're working closely with my fathers to find the omegas, which should be a good thing. But I hate it. I want them home with me where I can see them. Corso, Reid, and Devon are spending most mornings at the distillery, too. I hate it all. I'm glad Jasper, Alex and Kaleb are at home so much, but I'd feel so much better if everyone was here.
“How about some chili fries?” Kaleb asks as he comes into the kitchen carrying a paper bag.
My mouth waters in the worst possible way. I can't even eat chili fries. And now I'm going to goddamned cry again. Over fucking chili fries.
“Shit,” Kaleb says and goes to throw the bag in the garbage. “I thought you might be able to eat them. I'm sorry, cupcake.”
“No! Don't waste them,” I sniff, “Devon will like them.”
“Okay, honey. We'll save them for Devon.” He reaches into a cabinet and pulls out a plastic container big enough to put the entire bag in and puts it in the fridge.
“I know it's just temporary, but I can't wait until this part is over. I'm sick of being hungry and sick of being sick. And I've never cried so much over so little in my whole fucking life. It's ridiculous.” I wipe my eyes and go back to folding the basket of laundry on the table.
Kaleb sits at the table across from me. He knows better than to try to help fold anything at this point, but he still eyes the basket like he wants to. Occasionally I'll give him a pile of washcloths or dish towels to fold, or the rare basket of socks to help pair, but that's the extent of the help I want from any of them with the laundry. The only reason I let Jasper help is because we need it to be done exactly the same way and he's the only one I trust to do it right.
“Your mother called again,” he says very carefully.
My mother. She has called every other day since I came out of heat. Nobody has told her anything, but she is being extremely tenacious. “I'll text her later. Thank you for being a buffer.”
“When are you going to tell her?” Kaleb asks, again very carefully. “We can't tell anyone else until she knows. There isn't a universe in which Elizabet would keep that quiet. And I know Devon wants to tell his father.”
“I know, Kaleb. I'm sorry. I just want to wait until after Obi does the first scan.”
“You've told Obi, then?”
I bite my lip. “Not yet. I've been putting it off. I don't want Daniel to weasel it out of him. I'll tell him in a couple weeks. I just want to be a little less sick. Is that okay?”
“Talia, anything you want to do is okay. Of course we want to tell our parents, but we won't until you're ready to tell yours. If you never want to tell them and we just show up somewhere with a baby in tow and that's how everyone finds out, that's alright, too.”
“Thank you, Kaleb.” I fucking hate crying and am so glad that his idea makes me want to laugh instead.
“I know,” he taps the table. “Would you like to walk down to the distillery and take Devon and the others some lunch? He texted to let me know they were going to be a little later in the afternoon coming home. It's so much cooler outside, you may even need a sweater.”
I nod my head, “I'll make up some sandwiches and things as soon as I finish this laundry.”
