Page 49 of The Beta: Part Three
I crawl away from Jasper to sit on the foot of the bed and point back at him to tell Kaleb what Jasper signed him up for. “He said I could watch you fuck him while I get myself off?”
Kaleb's eyes slide to Jasper. “Did he, now?”
“He did,” I confirm, and get up to move over to sit on Jasper's desk.
“Did he say when?” Kaleb asks, crossing his arms over his chest.
I shake my head. “He didn't. But I vote for now.”
He smiles at me and takes off his shirt. “If you want a show now, cupcake, I'm happy to give you one.”
Chapter twenty
Jasper
I’m getting more used to Elizabet Graves having a permanent and glaring presence in my life. The pedestal I had her on is slowly transforming into a more normal throne, but if she keeps upsetting Talia I will have no trouble giving her a cracked stool on the porch. She's in the main room right now with all four of Talia's fathers, sitting on the couch and demanding Talia's presence. Talia wasn't quite ready to tell her mother that she's pregnant, no matter that we're almost at the halfway point; and now it looks like she's going to have to because it is going to be very obvious the second she walks down those stairs. Her little bump is less little by the day and her already delicious scent is twice as sweet with her pregnancy.
“If she isn't feeling well, I can just go up to her room to speak with her. There's no need for her to come down. She's so rarely ill that I'd like to look in on her, anyway.”
“No, no, that's unnecessary,” Reid says, “she'll be down in just a moment. She just wanted to change her clothes. She was meal prepping for the freezer this morning. We're trying to prepare for next week.” He thankfully doesn't mention that I'm due for my next heat next week and I say another prayer to anybody who might be listening that I won't have a spike while she's here.
The air goes as sour as Elizabet's face, which is something Talia has definitely inherited. “That doesn't sound like my daughter at all. Talia doesn't, and has never, given a single shit about what outfit choice is the most fitting for an occasion. She has a minute to be down those stairs before I go up them. Something is wrong, you're all hiding it, and I've had enough.”
“My apologies, Elizabet. I mean no disrespect, but I cannot allow that to happen. Talia will be down when she's ready,” Corso says very cooly, then to Reid he adds, “please go check that she's alright. If she doesn't want to come down she doesn't have to.”
Elizabet's ability to chill a room with her anger is another trait Talia inherited. Reid is two steps up the stairs when a door creaks open upstairs and Talia calls out, “I'm coming. Just give me a minute, for fuck sake.”
“You've had forty-five, my darling. Kindly bring your ass down the stairs before your mother starts setting things on fire,” Marcus laughs. I really like him.
Talia trots down the stairs and kisses first Reid, then Corso before coming to stand beside the chair I'm sitting in. Everything is quiet for a few seconds, then Elizabet jumps up from the couch laughing and shouting and crying, “I knew it! I just knew it! Oh! How wonderful! Are you alright, sweetheart? Do you need anything? How far along are you? Fifteen, eighteen weeks? And the nursery! Have you started the nursery? Can I see it?”
“Jesus fuck. Take a breath, mother. Please.” Talia takes her own breath and starts answering questions. “I feel great, really great. I thought I was dying for the first few weeks, but now I'm good. I don't know if I need anything or not, I assume I don't. I'm only eleven weeks in. We haven't started the nursery because I can't decide where I want it to go. I have two nests, though; one in Corso's room and one in Nathan's. You and Jasper can decorate the shit out of it once I figure out exactly where it will be, there are two rooms upstairs to choose from. Or I can remodel that ridiculous closet.”
When Talia says she's only eleven weeks along Elizabet's eyes drop to her stomach and stay there. She reaches over and puts her hand in Alpha Reyes’s. “Eleven weeks? Are you certain?”
“Yes, mother,” Talia sighs so deeply even I can hear the eye roll contained in it. “It happened during my, our, last heat.”
“Our?” Elizabet sits back down, “Talia? Our?”
Talia looks at me with her brows drawn together. I shrug. I don't understand Elizabet's reaction any more than she does.
“Yes. Our. Jasper and I had a synced heat almost twelve weeks ago. You knew that. What is the problem? Why are you so upset? I thought you'd be happy about me being pregnant. You've been thrilled with all the other omega developments.”
Trent stalks across the room and wraps his arms around Talia. I can feel anger crackling off of him despite the purr he's trying to use to calm Talia. “Why is this a problem? What could be awful about our pack having a baby that it requires upsetting Talia like this?”
“They don't know my love,” Alpha Smith says softly. “There's no way for them to know.”
“Know fucking what, Thaddeus?” Devon barks. “She's afraid and angry, and that's unacceptable. Tell us what we need to know before things get any more disrespectful.”
Marcus laughs again. “Oh, Talia, dear. I cannot imagine you with another pack. I was worried for a while, but this is the best thing that could have happened. Elizabet, my darling, my love, I know you're upset, and you were hoping it wouldn't happen, but they need to know everything. All of it. Nathan, do you have tea here? The good omega stuff? I know there's booze in the cabinets. Can we get some things started in the kitchen while my love collects herself? She has a lot of things to share and most of them are shit.”
Marcus and Nathan go to the kitchen for whatever they'll come back with, and Elizabet starts apologizing. “I'm sorry, Talia, Jasper, all of you. I am happy. So very happy. I'm just also very nervous. Did you...is there a chance that the baby is biologically Jasper's?”
“The baby is absolutely biologically Jasper's,” Talia drops that bombshell in retaliation to her mother’s hedging. Her hands are covering the swell of her stomach, and one of Trent's hands is covering hers.
“Oh.” Elizabet says, and looks down at her lap. Her worry is so thick we can all smell it.
Thaddeus knocks on the table. “We're not worried about the baby being alright, kids. She's likely to be the healthiest baby to ever cry.”
