Page 30 of Bitter Heat
Kerry smiled, scooted his chair back slightly for more breathing room, and nodded. He lifted his chin and tried to sound happier than he truly felt. “Yes. I have wonderful news! It’s true. I’m pregnant.”
A satisfied expression fell over Lukas’s face, and he leaned back in his seat, pride oozing from him as if he had been the one to impregnate Kerry himself. He nodded to Monte and said with a barely hidden snide-ness, “I told you. It’s a good thing we came.”
“Why’s that?” Kerry asked, taking the bull by the horns. He may as well allay whatever fears they might have had for his mental well-being, the baby’s health, and his plans for the future. No matter how correct they’d have been to have them in the first place, the game now was convincing them of his total stability and his enthusiasm for this pregnancy.
“When you didn’t write for so long, we started to wonder,” Monte said, taking hold of Kerry’s hand and squeezing. His fingers were cold and hurtfully strong. He kept his voice soft and sweet. Too sweet. And his eyes wide. Too wide. “We know things have been hard for you, Kerry…emotionally…since Wilbet’s wrongful imprisonment—”
Kerry barely held back a snort. Wrongful. Monte would maintain that, wouldn’t he? Despite the evidence, testimony, and even photographs taken by an undercover investigator hired by the lover of one of the prostitutes Wilbet had been abusing, and despite Kerry’s own whispered, tearful confessions to his in-laws in private of what Wilbet had done to him, Monte still insisted it was all a misunderstanding. He claimed that Wilbet must have thought Kerry wanted the sex to be that way, that theyallhad.
Monte was still going on, “—and so we’ve allowed you to be here, with your, ahem, uncle.” He smiled, but there was a nastier edge this time. “After the weeks went on and we heard nothing from you, suspicions began to arise.”
“Did they?” Kerry tried to sound confused.
“Yes. Why didn’t you let us know about the child as soon as you suspected?”
“The first five weeks are notoriously tenuous,” Kerry said reasonably, affecting a tone of voice that implied Monte, and by association Lukas, were behaving oddly to have expected him to confirm the pregnancy with them at any point sooner than this exact moment. “I wanted to be sure this sweet thing would stick with us before getting your hopes up.” Here he touched his stomach affectionately and hoped that he wasn’t laying it on too thick.
Monte’s eyes glowed hungrily. “But you’re sure now? That this pregnancy is going to work out?”
“I feel good about the chances,” Kerry said carefully. His stomach chose that moment to growl again, and this evidence of his hunger bought him a few precious moments.
“Where is that waiter?” Monte asked, snapping his fingers in the air and looking around. He caught a harried-looking beta waiter’s eye and gave him such a look of irritation that the waiter turned red from the bottom of his neck to the roots of his fair hair.
“Coming right up, sir!” the waiter called, dashing into the kitchen.
“We can’t have our grandchild going hungry,” Monte said, taking Kerry’s hand and squeezing it. “Are you eating well? You look thin. Your uncle is taking care of you, isn’t he? Not squandering what we send?”
Kerry bit back an angry response to that and said instead, “I’m finally up to eating my old rations again. There for a few weeks, my stomach was tetchy. I understand that’s common.”
“Yes, especially when carrying a future alpha,” Monte said, practically glowing like the moon was going to burst from his pale skin. He grinned at Lukas. “Did you hear that? He’s been sickly.” Then he let out a little squeal.
“Don’t get your hopes up yet,” Lukas said, taking Monte’s other hand across the table. “You know as well as I do that we’ll all have to wait a good many years after the birth to be sure.”
“Unless it’s an omega,” Monte said with a hint of worry. “Then we’ll know right away.”
“Yes.”
When the dishes began to arrive, Kerry realized that Monte had ordered theentiremenu. The table grew crowded with bread, jam, stew, eggs, fruit, pancakes, bacon, salad, kippers, and a fat cinnamon bun. Kerry took small, fortifying bites from each dish, except for the kippers, which he didn’t care for. He was careful not to overdo it, pacing himself to make it all last as long as possible. He didn’t want to have to talk too much if he could keep from it, and the Monhundys had a firm rule that no one could discuss serious business while a person was eating. They believed it caused indigestion, and in some cases, if the conversation was especially difficult, diarrhea.
An old omega’s tale, to be sure, along with the belief that intense pregnancy sickness heralded an alpha, but the Monhundys, for all their citified ways, believed in plenty of those old tales. Kerry still remembered when they’d insisted he eat nothing but butter sandwiches for two days before his first heat with Wilbet, claiming it would “ease the way” for his knot. Insanity.
Regardless, they watched Kerry swallow like every bite that went into his mouth was going directly toward the health and well-being of their future grandchild. And when he paused to sip water, they held their breath, as if he were going to give birth any second. It was a strange, powerful feeling. He had them in the palm of his hand in some ways. Now, he just had to stay in control and keep them there.
“I believe the babe is strong,” Kerry finally said when he could no longer ignore their intense gazes in favor of food. He sat back in his chair, stuffed, and no longer the least bit hungry. “He seems well-latched.” Just how he knew that was not something he’d ever discuss with them.
Monte reached out as if he were going to touch Kerry’s stomach, but then, after looking around at the other diners at tables near them, he snatched his hand back, apparently thinking better of a public display of that nature. It proved the fakeness of his kisses earlier all the more—those had been for show. This had been a genuine desire to connect to the child within—much too vulnerable a desire for Monte Monhundy to allow in public.
“And his expected date?” Lukas asked, leaning forward and peering at Kerry’s stomach as if he could see the babe inside.
“The end of summer or beginning of fall.”
“Of course. Yes.” Monte’s eyes drifted up to the ceiling, going a bit glassy as he did the mental calculations. “That would be right.”
“You’ll come back home with us, of course. You’ve had enough time here with your…uncle.” Lukas frowned and sucked his teeth. “No reason to linger in the middle of nowhere a day longer than necessary. He’s had his time with you; it’s our turn now.”
“I’d rather stay, actually,” Kerry said with a surety he wasn’t certain they’d agree he had a right to, but he was going on bravado from here on out. He just had to pray it worked.
Lukas’s thick, dark brows went up to his hairline. “Oh?”
