Sam’s heart pattered. “I can’t live with you forever. That’s... too long.”
“We’re in for the long haul,” Harris said. “This isn’t just about the pregnancy. There’s the... the baby to consider, too.”
Sam blinked, stunned speechless by Harris’ generosity. All it had taken was one night together, and now they were entangling their lives. “O-okay,” Sam said. Didn’t know what he had to lose at this point.
“You’ll get your own room and bathroom,” Harris said. “There’s plenty of space in the mansion. Whatever privacy you need, you’ll get it.”
“Yeah, the mansion’s three stories,” Valen said. “We only use the bottom two. But if you want a downstairs bedroom, that’s probably okay, too.”
“It is.” Harris shrugged. “It’s too big a house for two of us, anyway.”
“Why’d you even buy it?” Valen asked. “I can’t believe you’d been living there for years.”
Harris smiled a melancholy smile, and Sam thought he saw regret in Harris’ eyes. “I had nothing else to do with that money. It was supposed to be for the baby.”
“Damn it, Big H.” Valen reached over, rubbing Harris’ neck. “Are you trying to be that tortured hero alpha everyone falls in love with?”
Harris snorted. “Shut up, V.”
Sam reached for Harris’ free hand, squeezing it. Harris glanced in his direction, the corner of his lips lifting. Then he squeezed Sam’s hand, and held it for the rest of the drive.
He’s been worried about you, Valen had said.
Those words lingered in Sam’s mind as they parked, climbing out of the truck. Valen took the bag of groceries from Sam, nodding toward the house. “I’ll take this to the kitchen. Show Sam around, Big H. I think you’ll do the place more justice than I would.”
Just like that, Valen left the two of them in the driveway, the chilly November winds sweeping around them.
“That brat.” Harris chuckled, looking after Valen.
Sam tucked his hands into his pockets, shivering. “Valen’s great.”
“You think so?” Harris met his eyes, smiling warmly.
“Yeah. I mean... I was happy with him.” Sam’s face heated. “I just... sometimes I regret leaving him, over something so small.”
“It’s not your fault he couldn’t commit,” Harris said. “You deserve that much, if not more.”
After years of telling himself That was your fault, you did the wrong thing, It was a relief to hear Harris’ words, even if Sam didn’t believe them. He smiled wanly, ducking his head.
“C’mon, let’s get inside,” Harris said, slipping his arm around Sam’s shoulders. “Chilly out here.”
Sam huddled against him, stepping up the porch.
Before today, he hadn’t really the chance to appreciate Harris’ mansion, the tiny lights leading up to the front door, the wide French windows of the living room. The building stood tall, dark ivy climbing up its brickwork exterior. Kind of like something from a fairy tale.
They stepped through the front door, Harris pulling it shut. “The grand tour,” he said. “I hope it’ll meet all your needs.”
Sam frowned. “I shouldn’t make demands about my needs.”
Harris laughed, then. “Make your demands to Valen. I think he’ll love to hear them.”
Did Harris mean non-bedroom demands? Sam couldn’t really tell from the humor glinting in those gray-blue eyes.
Briskly, Harris led him through the marble-tiled foyer, with its mirrored walls and chandelier.
On his other visits, Sam had only glimpsed the living room, its TV in one corner, the leather couches surrounding it. He hadn’t known about the pantry or the gym, or the spare bedroom on the same level.
The second floor held a luxurious study, an entertainment room, and three bedrooms—one that smelled like oak, sandalwood, and musk. Sam’s cock twitched at that mix of scents, but he kept silent. Couldn’t stop thinking about the king-sized bed in there, though.
“And here’s the third floor,” Harris rumbled, flicking on the lights when they reached the top of the wooden stairs. “Attic access, and another two bedrooms. I think that last room used to be someone’s library.”
Curious, Sam wandered into the library, turning the lights on.
Unlike the rest of the house, the library had sconces on the walls, warm light pouring onto rows of dark wooden bookcases. A set of French windows watched over the empty shelves, and it all seemed... melancholy. Hugging himself, Sam eyed the thin stack of books nearest to the door.
“Seems that the only books I have are instruction manuals from the station,” Harris said, his smile sheepish.
“You need something else in this room,” Sam said. “It feels so lonely otherwise.”
“Yeah? You have books?” Harris asked, his eyes crinkling.
Sam gave a self-conscious shrug. “I have some cookbooks I stopped using. Do you think that’ll fit?”
“Sure.” Harris’ gaze slid from Sam’s face to his belly, lingering there. “What about books on childcare? Do you need those?”
“Not really. I helped raise my best friend’s daughter.” He couldn’t help touching his belly, though, imagining the baby growing there. It had been three weeks, now. What would he look like when he was at full-term?
What would his own newborn feel like in his arms?
Sam stared at his flat abdomen, his throat tight. Harris stepped closer. Set his hand over Sam’s, holding Sam’s belly, too. Sam’s heart missed a beat.
“I have been thinking about asking you,” Harris murmured, “if I could be the baby’s father, too.”
Sam froze. They hardly knew each other—they were connected by their relationships with Valen.
But standing in Harris’ library, with Harris’ uncertain gaze searching his, Sam felt a tug in his chest. Asking to be a baby’s father was a big thing. Certainly not something Harris would request on a whim. How long had he thought about it?
“I’ll... consider it,” Sam croaked, just so he had space to think. Allowing a third person to be his baby’s father... that was a lot of responsibility. And power. “Can I give you an answer later?”
“That’s fine,” Harris said, squeezing Sam’s hand before letting go. “No pressure.”
Part of Sam wanted to step
