Smith pressed a cotton swab to Ian’s belly, then handed him a soft towel to clean up.
“We have your ultrasound pictures available for sale, if you wish to purchase prints of them,” she added. “They’ll be five dollars a copy.”
Ian hesitated.
“Two,” Brad said.
Ian met his eyes, uncertain. “We can share one.”
Brad squeezed his hand. “I want a backup. So we can have one each. It isn’t that much money.”
“It kind of is.”
“It’s the baby, though,” Brad whispered. “And it’s for you.”
“I don’t need to spend money on me.”
But Ian glanced at the ultrasound screen, his eyes longing.
“Two,” Brad said, nudging his arm.
Ian chewed on his lip, and finally nodded. “Fine.”
Dr. Smith tapped on her keyboard. “The pictures will be ready at the receptionist’s counter. She’ll schedule your next visit, too. The results from the amniocentesis will be sent to your email in a few days. Do you have any other questions?”
“That’ll be all. Thank you,” Ian said.
Brad helped Ian to his feet. Straightened Ian’s clothes. They stopped by the next room for Ian’s bloodwork, then made their way to the receptionist. Brad touched Ian’s belly. “Does it still hurt?”
Ian shook his head. “Not right now. It might later, though.”
That sucked. Brad had read up some on amniocentesis—it was done for older omegas to check for birth defects. But it had been painful, and if it were possible, Brad would’ve suffered Ian’s pain for him. Why can’t I do that?
“How’s your tongue?” Ian asked. “Does it hurt a lot?”
Brad ran his tongue against his teeth, the bruised area aching a little. “I’m fine.”
Ian cringed. “Sorry.”
Brad nudged him. “Nah, it’s fine. You’re the one who took that needle from hell. You’re amazing.”
Ian cracked a smile. They stopped at the receptionist, where Ian arranged a date for his next appointment.
“I’ll be there,” Brad said.
“Are you sure?”
“Yup. Not gonna miss out this time, McMillan.”
Ian smiled wanly, and Brad gathered Ian close. Stuck his credit card into the card reader before Ian could reach for his own wallet.
“Brad!”
“I told you, I’m paying.”
Brad signed off on the transaction, watching Ian’s disbelieving smile. “You shouldn’t,” Ian said. “I don’t need you paying for everything.”
“You’ve done enough,” Brad said. “Time for me to handle things.”
Ian shook his head exasperatedly, cheering up when the receptionist handed him two printed pictures of the ultrasound.
“That’s Xavier,” Brad murmured, kissing Ian’s temple. “And that’s you around him. Best picture ever.”
“You say that about every other picture.”
“Because there’s you in them.” Brad grinned, turning Ian out of the prenatal clinic. He stopped between their cars, glancing at the white plastic bag on Ian’s passenger seat. There was a familiar brown logo on it. “Hey, isn’t that from Olivier’s shop?”
“Oh!” Ian blushed. He fumbled for his keys, unlocking the door.
Brad watched as Ian leaned into the car to grab the bag. Couldn’t help admiring the curve of Ian’s ass, then his belly. Ian was so beautiful, and brave.
So Brad reached for Ian’s hip, squeezing his thigh, then his ass. Ian squawked.
“Brad!”
“Mine,” Brad growled. Dragged his wrist up Ian’s side, perking up when Ian shoved the bag at him.
“I got this for you. Sorry it’s so late.” Ian blushed, looking away.
His heart skipping, Brad peeked into the bag. Found the box of violin strings he was starting to think Ian wasn’t buying. It had been gnawing on him—he’d been wondering if Ian had been having second thoughts about their relationship.
“I told you, you were getting them for me.” Brad grinned.
Ian smacked him on the thigh. “Presumptuous jerk. I’m sorry that it’s taken me this long, though.” Ian rubbed his own arms. “I didn’t know which you needed. Olivier helped me pick them out, so it isn’t really an original gift.”
That sounded like a good reason. Maybe Brad had been worrying for nothing. “I love it anyway,” he growled, pulling Ian back into his arms. “You’re the best.”
He kissed Ian on the lips, his chest full.
Ian wrinkled his nose. “I am not the best.”
“Sure, be that way.” Brad kissed him again, smiling. He cradled Ian’s belly in his palms, tracing the faint bump of the band-aid Smith had pasted over the amniocentesis puncture. It still made Brad uneasy, thinking about that.
It had been a long fucking needle penetrating Ian’s belly. There were so many things in the world Brad was helpless to prevent, and seeing the doctor perform the test... it made his skin crawl.
“What’s wrong?” Ian asked.
“I wish I could solve all your problems,” Brad said.
Ian chuckled. “You’ve been solving enough of them.”
“Not all, though.”
“You don’t need to. I’m fine, Brad.”
Brad frowned, needing to set more things right with the world. So Ian didn’t have to undergo another amniocentesis, so Ian wouldn’t be in pain, or hate himself. “Sometimes I wish I had the power to reverse time,” Brad said. “So I can fix all my stupid mistakes.”
Ian rubbed his back. “There’s not much point thinking about the impossible, is there?”
Brad sighed. “No, there isn’t.”
He’d never told Ian about the kids he couldn’t save, though. Not fully. It had been something Brad had been ashamed about, and he’d never spoken to anyone about it after the fact. Ian would probably look at him askance if he ever found out the rest of the story.
And yet... it was something Ian should be aware of. So he knew what sort of alpha had marked him.
“I’ve never told you much about the one time,” Brad said, his heart squeezing. “A couple of kids died because of me.”
Ian froze against him. “You’ve mentioned it before, haven’t you? You were late on scene.”
“Yeah. It was sometime last year.” Brad played with the curls of Ian’s hair, unable to meet his eyes. “I was on driving duty in the truck. There was a jam on the road and I’d taken a shortcut—at least, I thought it was a shortcut. It ended up with the truck stuck behind a bunch of cars for three whole minutes, and we got to the scene late.
“By the time we went into the building, the kids
