If Greg hadn’t stopped the truck, Dale could have died. And that single thought sent his stomach plunging, set his hair on end.
“Greg,” Dale said, his voice stretched thin. He looked up at Greg, his eyes wide, and tumbled into Greg’s chest, thin and familiar and precious.
“Gods, I’m sorry,” Greg murmured, slipping his arms around Dale. “I shouldn’t have left you. I shouldn’t have put you in danger. I—”
“I love you,” Dale said, his voice muffled in Greg’s shoulder, his tears soaking through Greg’s shirt. “I love you, and you’re my alpha, and I shouldn’t have pushed you away for so long. I’m sorry.”
“You want me back?” Greg whispered, his heart squeezing.
“Yes. Yes!” Dale’s fingers pressed into Greg’s back, his belly pushing against Greg’s hips. “Gods, I’ve missed you so much.” Then he stiffened and pulled away, his eyes glittering with tears. “Are you hurt? Did you have a concussion? Oh, gods, I should’ve checked before I hugged you, I—”
“I’m fine,” Greg said. “But I’ll call 9-1-1 just in case.”
“I’m not even thinking straight right now,” Dale said. “I was so worried. I thought you’d died. I saw your car and you were headed straight for the truck and I just—”
His voice tapered off in a high whine. Greg pulled him close, guiding him to the side of the road. Behind the Porsche, other cars had stopped, and people were on their phones. Greg wrapped his arms around Dale, running his hands down Dale’s back, then his belly.
“I thought you were going to die,” Greg murmured into his hair, breathing in lungfuls of hibiscus and honey. After months of separation, Dale’s scent was so very welcome, and Greg wanted it all over his skin. “The bastard was gonna hit you. Gods.”
The thought alone made him shudder. It had been instinct, driving headlong into the truck. Greg knew he’d do it again in a heartbeat.
“I’m not leaving you,” he said. “I don’t care about my dad. I’m not fucking losing you, you hear?”
Dale sobbed into his chest. Greg held on to him, closing his eyes. Of all the times he’d thought about them making up, never once had he imagined it would be by the side of the road, their lives a hairsbreadth from ending.
“I don’t care where we have to go,” Dale said into his chest, his hands curling into Greg’s shirt. “I’m not leaving you again.”
“Good,” Greg murmured, dropping kisses on his head. He dragged his wrists over Dale’s back, down his arms, masking the other alpha’s willow scent. Dale finally wanted to be his. Sweet relief soaked through his chest. “I’m glad.”
He lost track of how long he held Dale, just standing by the roadside with his omega in his arms. Greg pressed a kiss to Dale’s temple, then his hair, his ear, holding him tight. When Dale looked up, hiccupping, Greg kissed his lips.
Dale melted against him, his mouth pliant and hungry against Greg’s, his breath unsteady on Greg’s skin.
Greg had lost track of how long they kissed, too, when a little whimper slipped from Dale’s lips. Greg kissed him quiet, his fingers slipping through Dale’s soft hair.
“How’s the baby?” Greg murmured against his lips.
“Oh,” Dale breathed, catching Greg’s hand, pressing it to his belly. “He kicked right after the ultrasound. I was so relieved.”
Greg waited. Then he slid his hand over the warm firmness of Dale’s abdomen. “I don’t feel anything.”
Dale chuckled, patting his hand. “Be patient, young alpha.”
Greg pulled away to look him in the eye. Dale’s eyes were red, his face was blotchy, but his lips curved with mirth. “You can laugh about that now?”
“I’ve decided that I don’t care about our ages anymore,” Dale murmured, sliding his hand up Greg’s forearm, his wrist dragging against Greg’s skin. He was marking Greg, leaning against him in public. Greg stared, stunned silent with disbelief and wonder. “Except when I tell age jokes,” Dale said. “Then it becomes relevant.”
Greg rolled his eyes, but an overwhelming relief surged over him. “Good.”
In the distance, an ambulance turned on its sirens, police cars trailing behind it. When they pulled up around the wreckage, paramedics leaped out of the ambulance. Greg released his omega reluctantly.
“I’m glad you’re fine,” Dale said. “But you really should be checked out by the EMTs first.”
“Yeah.” Greg kissed his forehead, looking over as the truck driver climbed unsteadily out of the cabin. “Sit somewhere safe. I’ll get back to you soon.”
Dale pouted. “I’m not an invalid, Greg Hastings.”
“You’re pregnant,” he said. “And I’m your alpha.”
Dale’s face lit up, even as he looked down at the ground, suddenly shy. “You are?”
“Yes,” Greg said, rubbing their wrists together. “Wait for me.”
Still smiling, Dale stepped over to the guard rail, cradling his belly. He looked good in the white shirt and pants; Greg hadn’t told him that yet. But they had time now—he’d lost his car, and they were probably stuck in Cambria for the near future.
Greg had new plans for tonight, plans that involved learning his omega, all over again.
38
Greg
Hours later, Greg shut the door to their hotel room. “Gods, that was a pain in the ass.”
“They didn’t lube you up enough?”
Greg snorted. “Seriously?”
Dale grinned. Then he snagged Greg’s collar in his hands and hauled him down, capturing his lips in an open-mouthed kiss.
With that kind of welcome, the low snarl of anger in Greg’s chest seeped away.
Earlier, the paramedics had sent him to the Cambria Hospital for observation, citing possible concussion. Greg would’ve been fine with that, except the police wanted statements from both of them. Then reporters from the Cambria Weekly had swooped in, and there had been question after prying question, people brandishing cameras, and Greg had wanted them gone so he could kiss his omega in peace.
Dale moaned against him, and Greg slipped his arms around his omega, following the curve of Dale’s spine to his hips. He dipped his fingers lower, between Dale’s cheeks, and Dale gasped against his mouth, pushing back against his touch.
Greg smirked; this
