Pregnancy is rough. Sometimes when I stand up too fast, my vision goes spotty with little fuzzy stars. My old OB told me it was because all the blood flow goes to the placenta and away from the brain. It can be scary, but it usually passes within a few seconds. The shooting pain that strikes my cervix when I sit down wrong is a whole different type of misery. Add in the swelling, tender breasts, and stretch marks, and it’s hard to view pregnancy as the miracle everyone claims it to be.

Shaking my head, I exhale heavily and try to get myself together.

“Talk to me.” Linc’s jaw flexes, and he doesn’t ask before running his hand over my stomach. “What’s wrong?”

I shrug.

Oh, nothing. I just couldn’t sleep for hours last night because it felt like someone was watching me. The urge to nest is so bad, I don’t even know what to do with myself. And, on top of all of that, I woke up with a headache.

If I start talking, I’m afraid I won’t stop. That all my complaints will come spewing out.

My eyes ache, but I refuse to cry.

I spent most of last night trying to talk myself out of calling the police.

They didn’t take me seriously in Richmond—why would they here?

That led me down a rabbit hole of, would anyone even notice if I was dead? Like, if Emmett came in and murdered me… How long would it take for someone to notice? It’s a terrifying thought because that snowballed into worrying about what would happen to Luna if something happened to me. Her dad dying was a huge wake-up call that our health can fail us at any time.

My mom knew her job could be dangerous, but she always promised she was as safe as possible. And she died on me too.

My head shakes.

No, I can’t give in to those thoughts.

They get you nowhere.

Warm hands brush my sides, and Lincoln lifts me and places me in his lap. I hold myself up on my knees, but there’s nothing to be done about the baby belly pressing against his stomach. His forearm pushes down on my lower back, and my weight comes to rest on his thighs.

A heavy thump fills the air as he kicks out of his shoes. He stretches back, leaning against the pillows. “Okay, now that we’re comfy, go ahead and tell me everything you were just stressing about.” My eyes widen, but he chuckles. “You don’t have a very good poker face.”

My mouth opens and closes, and I desperately try to keep myself from sounding like I’m losing my shit.

But I am.

And it all spills out.

Every thought in my mind, until I’m just rambling and repeating myself. “…Do you know how much pressure I feel to just not die? Like, I better live another thirty years, minimum, because if I don’t, my kid will be alone.” My eyes burn, and I gasp as it feels like it’s impossible to catch a full breath. “And I can eat healthy and exercise, and be extra careful while driving, but shit still happens, and I need to live for a bare minimum of eighteen years, because if I don’t, she won’t have anyone.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” His huge palm comes to rest on the back of my head, and he pulls my nose to rest in his throat. “Soak up some pheromones and just breathe.”

His scent is complex, and my nose roots around, trying to pick out each piece. It’s a citrus-based smell, but there are salty tinges, almost like the beach. A salty, beachy, lemon scent. It doesn’t make any sense, but it’s fresh and clean and lovely.

He smooths his hand up and down my back in a tender touch that makes me clutch at his shoulders. “You’re okay.”

The fat tears I’ve been holding back burst out, leaking all over his skin. “I’m so sorry. I’m totally losing my shit. Everything is overwhelming, and I’m trying. I really am, but I feel like a failure.”

“Nah, you’ve just had a lot of changes all at once.” He keeps his tone soothing. “It would be a lot for anyone. Let alone an omega.”

A loud knock sounds against the bedroom door, and my muscles tense.

“Come in,” Linc calls out.

I bury my nose deeper in his skin and pretend to be invisible. It’s a very omega-like reaction, but I’m a hot mess right now and don’t care.

“I checked out the unit; it needs a deep clean. I could do that today, but that thing is ancient. I’m going to call Mrs. Wilson to get the okay to order the parts. They should be in by Friday.” The repair man clears his throat. “Monday, at the latest.”

“Thanks, Ed,” Lincoln says. “So, you’ll do the cleaning when you install the replacement parts?”

“That’s the plan,” Ed agrees.

“Okay, if you can put a rush on the delivery, we’ll gladly pay for it,” Lincoln says.

“I’ll text you after I get approval from the homeowner,” Ed says. “I’m headed out, but I’ll be in touch.”

Lincoln thanks him, and the door closes as the heavy footfalls of the man’s boots head down the hallway.

“On the bright side, at least it doesn’t need a whole new furnace?” He chuckles. “Sorry, I’m trying to find something positive, but I know that’s not what you wanted to hear.”

“Thank you for trying. And for letting me cry all over you.”

“It’s nothing.” He tenderly pats my lower back. “Would you like to grab some clothes and have a shower over at my house?”

The space heater kept the room decently warm last night. I could move it into the bathroom or the doorway, and it would probably heat up the space enough that I wouldn’t be freezing when I got out.

“Afterward, I’ll show you my favorite little diner in town.” Linc chuckles. “They serve breakfast all day. And we can stop by and check out where the grocery stores are. You really do need the full tour.”

I bite my lip, thinking it through. He’s right. I’ll need to buy groceries as soon as possible, and I’m unfamiliar with the area. “Okay, that sounds great.”


Blacksburg is charming. It’s not actually the closest town, which I only realize on the drive in, but it’s the closest city with a variety of the types of things I’ll need. The downtown area has a small-town vibe that I’m not used to, but being inside Linc’s truck makes it difficult to focus on anything except how his scent permeates the air when the heat is on.

The businesses are all decorated with Christmas cheer, and my heart thumps wildly. I’ve already made the choice not to worry about decorating this year, but the holiday is still a while away. Who knows, maybe I’ll break down and get myself a tiny tree.

My phone buzzes in my lap, and I pull it up to see there’s a text from Kase. Opening it, I frown before a silly bubble of laughter escapes my lips.

It’s a picture of his driver’s license and a text.

My sister said it’s a safety thing to have a picture of a guy’s driver’s license. Email it to yourself or send it to a friend. I’m not weird, I swear.

Linc pulls into the parking lot of a small diner. Once he has the truck in a spot, he turns to face me. “What’s got you all giggly?”

“Kase just sent me this.” I flip my phone around.

Linc snorts. “That’s Kase, for you. I’m sure that I’m not weird, I swear, really helped convince you.”

I laugh. “Definitely.”


The diner isn’t small, but it’s packed with people. Linc leads me toward the counter, lined with barstools. I hope he doesn’t think I’ll be able to get my pregnant self up on one of those. There’s every possibility that I could, but my legs would go numb, and it wouldn’t be a very enjoyable experience.

Linc could be about to order takeout, but there are a few empty tables scattered around. I wouldn’t mind eating here, because I’m starving, but I don’t want to be rude if he has something else planned.

He guides me forward with a hand on my lower back, and it’s so hard not to feel self-conscious.

Lincoln is gorgeous, and I’m equivalent to a moderately sized whale. It’s strange to be out in public with anyone. Maybe because my nightmares are made of someone accidentally assuming the baby is his.

Linc guides us up next to a barstool, and it takes me way too long to realize Kase is seated on it. There’s a very pretty woman with curly brown hair standing on the opposite side of the counter.

The look on Kase’s face is almost comical as he spots me. He swivels on his barstool and smiles. “Did you get my text?”

“I did,” I say, grinning right back at him. His smiles are apparently contagious. “I even replied…” But just with an emoji, because I didn’t know what to say.

“You are hella pregnant,” the woman behind the counter says with wide eyes.

“My sister is every bit as tactful as I am,” Kase says, nodding to the woman. “Chelsea, meet my sister, Cordelia.”

I twist, giving a little wave. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“You too.” She grins mischievously. “My brother has not shut up about you, but I’m guessing you’re here for breakfast. Have a seat, and I’ll bring you some menus.”

“Yeah, we’ll take a table.” Kase nods. “We should get you off your feet.”

I snort. “Pregnant women can stand and walk, even go upstairs if we’re careful.”

Although, it’s much harder since I can no longer see my feet, but still, he’s very sweet. My instincts find it strangely comforting to have them hovering around, trying to help.

No one has looked after me in so long… It’s like I know better than to become too dependent on someone, but I also crave that affection and the secure feeling that comes from knowing I have alphas by my side.

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