Harris dressed, headed downstairs to the kitchen, and found the streamers and balloons hanging from the ceiling. Looked in the fridge—there was a white cardboard box. Probably a cake.
He winced. Sam had put a lot of work into all this. Valen had probably helped with the decorations last night, when Harris had been asleep.
And now Harris felt like even more of a jerk, turning them down. They’d probably learn to live without him, though—it was bound to happen at some point.
He found a container of formed beef patties, still raw. Fried one on the stove, threw together a hamburger, and washed the dishes. Sam and Valen hadn’t come downstairs yet.
With a last look at the empty staircase, Harris shut the door, then hopped into his car. Probably should sell it—it couldn’t hold a car seat and two other passengers.
Then he chuckled. This was what his life had become. He had an alpha, an omega, and a baby on the way.
If he could believe that they’d stay around, if he could believe that the lack of markings on him meant nothing, then that would be perfect.
29
Valen
It was awkward, heading to the station with Sam.
Through his two years at the fire station, Valen had always driven to work by himself, or with Harris. He’d never brought along his omega, Sam in a flowing shirt and loose pants, himself in a starched shirt and jeans.
Gods, Sam’s belly was getting big. It bulged over the seat belt, round and heavy. Valen made sure to drive carefully. Peered in his blind spots, looked twice as he drove through the intersections. Kept to the slower lanes, instead of charging down the roads.
The parking lot at the station was almost full when they pulled up. Valen held his breath, breathed out. Tried not to think about Harris in the station somewhere, pointing people around.
Sam reached over, squeezing his hand. “You okay?”
“I guess.”
Today hadn’t gone well. Granted, it had only been a few hours since he’d woken up. Then Harris had stalked off, and Sam had looked like he was about to cry—not that Harris had seen, when he’d gone and shut himself in the bathroom.
Valen had brought Sam upstairs, distracted him a little. Found Harris gone when they’d finally ventured downstairs—Harris wasn’t due back at work today.
You bastard, you could’ve at least apologized to Sam.
Valen hopped out of the truck, jogged over to the passenger door. Opened it for Sam. Sam climbed carefully out of the truck, stepping into Valen’s arms.
“You look so beautiful,” Valen said, stroking his wrists over Sam’s forehead. Down Sam’s throat, his shoulders, his arms. Then his belly, too, their baby kicking against his palm.
Valen wasn’t sure what to think about their baby. Landon sometimes kicked when Valen stroked Sam’s belly, turning somersaults. Almost as though Landon knew their dads were out here, caring for him.
“I’m just me,” Sam said, cracking a tiny smile. Then he glanced at the station, his smile falling. “Is Harris in there?”
“He should be.” Valen sighed. He wasn’t looking forward to this. They’d never really had an argument before, one that lasted for hours. And this happening on Harris’ birthday? That just really sucked.
He spotted the black Porsche, then his father’s car, an older white sedan. Tried not to let his heart sink.
Dad would probably want Valen to announce the wedding to the station. And Harris would be standing in the background, wouldn’t he? Watching Sam and Valen, completely excluding himself.
“Gods, I want to punch him or something,” Valen said.
Or maybe just kiss Harris, so that bastard would know they still wanted him.
But the fire chief would be there. Valen wasn’t about to get Harris demoted by revealing that they were having a relationship with each other. They could use that money for their baby.
A year back, Harris had told Valen how much the fire chief respected him. Harris had joined the station shortly after Valen’s dad, and they’d been casual friends, sometimes hanging out for drinks, sometimes teaching courses at the station together. Fred had invited Harris to dinner, and they’d gotten along well.
Then Valen had joined the station, and he’d started getting on Harris’ nerves, hitting on him. A year later, they’d begun to fuck, and Harris stopped hanging out with Valen’s dad—at least, he’d begun covering up his scent before they met.
To have your boss know you were sleeping with his son... that couldn’t be good.
And now Valen was showing up with an omega they both shared—not the end of the world, but what if Dad saw Valen and Harris together?
Valen swallowed, his heart pattering. He hadn’t even kissed Harris at all today.
He shut the truck door, slipping his arm around Sam. Kissed Sam’s cheek, filled his lungs with dahlia and honey.
“Do you think Harris is okay?” Sam asked, worry flickering through his eyes.
“I hope so.” Valen winced. “Only one way to find out.”
He tightened his grip around Sam’s waist, and led him into the station.
Past the tall garage doors, foil streamers hanging from wall to wall, some tinsel lining the doorways. Pop music played softly in the background. Harris had told Valen the party date wasn’t on purpose—the chief had decided on the date without knowing it was Harris’ birthday.
It was just a slap in the face, having to deal with a party on your birthday, and not being able to acknowledge your lovers as your own.
“Hey, V!” Amos called as they passed an engine. “Haven’t seen yours before!”
Valen waved. “This is Sam. Sam, Amos.”
They wove through the mingling staff. The entire station smelled different—rather than purely the woodsy scents of alphas, there were now the floral scents of omegas, and even a whiff of a beta’s grassy scent.
Half the firemen were on duty, dressed in the station’s T-shirts and pants. The other half were dressed casually, like Valen and Sam, plastic cups in hand. Valen nodded and waved, and glanced at the other omegas—none could compare to his own.
“I don’t see him,” Sam whispered.
“Maybe he’s upstairs,” Valen said. Didn’t want to
