Page 104 of With A Little Luck
Hell, I’m a little worried the three of us won’t be able to manage once one of her real heats hit.
We’re all exhausted the next morning.
Except Ridge.
That fucker is chipper and ready to take on the day.
Quincy oversleeps and eventually tells us she’ll wear something she has here rather than leave early to swing by her house for fresh clothes.
She’s no longer feverish like she was last night, and that causes a fair amount of concern over whether this is something we’ll have to faceeverynight.
I will.
I just might need a few short naps throughout the day. I’m too old to stay up all night and all day. I used to manage that shit with ease in my early twenties, but I turned thirty last year, and I’m feeling it.
Trigg is probably a few years younger than I am, and now that they’ve taken the sex step, he can help.
Hopefully he won’t need his hand held during every encounter, but I shouldn’t be shitty.
I was scared, too, even more so than the night her fever spiked at her house.
Last night was intense.
After three cups of coffee, the caffeine finally kicks in. I feel sorry for Quincy since she only let herself have a baby cup, and it’s obvious that she wants more. She stares at the coffeemaker longingly, and I barely hold back a laugh.
She’s cute as hell in Ridge’s sweats and one of my team long-sleeve T-shirts. It’s stretched to the limits over her stomach. I’ve come to terms with the fact it’ll never fit me right again, but seeing it on Quincy is way more satisfying, anyway.
The ride to the doctor’s office is mostly silent. We’ll have to swing by her house on the way home to get more supplies and my SUV. At some point, I really need to tackle packing up my shit at Harrison’s.
Ridge has a washer and dryer, though, so I’m willing to put that off until another day.
What really sounds heavenly is climbing into the nest with Quincy to sleep the day away.
The doctor’s office is downtown with a decent-sized parking lot. Ridge whips his truck into one of the spots and glances into the back seat.
Quincy has her eyes closed with her cheek resting against my shoulder. She was talking a minute or two ago, which makes me think she’s just resting her eyes and not actually asleep.
I’ve got my arm around her and my hand on her side, so I give her a tender pat to warn her it’s time to get moving.
She jolts and guilt twists in my gut.
I should have acted sooner to see if she needed a roommate. We spent a lot of days together just chatting and eating while standing in the kitchen at the restaurant, but I tried to wait for some cue from her that she was ready for more than just friendship.
Seeing how exhausted she’s been outside of work makes me realize how good of an actress she was. She never let on how much she was suffering, and now I’ll spend the next few hours spiraling over how I failed to notice that she was floundering.
“We should go,” Ridge says, unbuckling his seat belt. “We have fifteen minutes before your appointment time.”
Quincy nods, rubbing at her eyes. “Okay, but no one look when they ask me to step on the scale.”
I grin, shaking my head.
She really is too fucking cute.
The waiting room has a few other pregnant ladies, most of them with at least one partner. I’d guess this isn’t an omega-only doctor, or maybe some packs have to work and alternate which alpha attends each appointment. Either way, it kills me to know Quincy has been coming here every single month…completely fucking alone.
It’s been such a balancing act between trying to build trust and not overstepping any of her boundaries, but no part of me likes to think about how much she’s had to tackle on her own.
All while worrying about money and the future.
