Page 8 of Duke's Baby Deal
Yeah? And how are you going to explain washing your sheets two days after you just washed them?
Dammit. And Dad’s security shift would be over in half an hour.
The plate of french toast and the bottle of syrup on the table caught my eye. Yes! I crammed the french toast dry into my mouth, grabbed the bottle, and poured a bunch on the sheets, getting them nice and sticky. The fork and plate went into a sink full of soapy water and now the only thing left was to get the smell of that bastard off me.
I left the bag of sugary-smelling sheets in the living room and pelted up the stairs.
A quick shower was all I had time for. I almost hated touching myself between my legs—I could stillfeelhim there. At the same time, just thinking about him made my body react, and I missed his touch as much as I hated him.
What was I going to do?
I ran into Dad in the doorway. “Where are you going?” he asked.
“I got syrup on my sheets. I’m going to wash them.”Please don’t stop me.
“You can’t go out while you’re in heat.” He turned me around and shoved me back into the house. “What are you thinking? Your mom has spares somewhere. Get back in.”
And that was how I managed to break two mugs slamming them into the sink, and ended up with a huge bleach stain on my good jeans, because I was terrified something had changed in my scent and I didn’t want dad to be able to notice it. Bleaching the shit out of the bathroom and the kitchen made it impossible to smell anything but the bleach. And just in case, I drank mint tea like it was going out of style, hoping it would mask any difference in my scent long enough for me to lie my way out of this.
At least, for now.
When I ran out of things to clean, I locked myself back up in my room and dug though my old school notes. The pack had made me take a Sex Ed for Omegas course, which was pretty much just me reading stuff and answering questions, most of whose answers came down to—No Sex Before Mating. But part of it talked about the stages of pregnancy, and what I could expect, and I flipped through all the other garbage until I found the pages I wanted.
Well, it was good news, and bad news. I had about two months before it became noticeable, which meant I had two months to find some way to find a solution before it ruined my life completely.
Two months wasn’t a lot of time. And I didn’t have a clue where to start. I stared at that damning timeline, and wondered who it was safe to confess to. Adelaide was out—she was required by stupid pack law to tell my parents everything, like having a womb and balls somehow meant there wasn’t room in my body for a brain or common sense too.
Not that I’d showed that much common sense last night.
This isn’t getting me anywhere.
But who could I ask?
There was only one person I could think of that might know, and that I thought could be convinced not to tell anyone.
Bax.
This was going to be awful.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Dad lay down for a nap—he’d been up all night, between the Harvest Moon party and a short shift at one of the security buildings. We couldn’t ever be without security, especially during full moons, but Mac was pretty good about making sure no one entirely missed special celebrations.
Mom came home, exclaimed over my sudden burst of housekeeping, and told me she was off to do her rounds checking up on the senior citizens.
As soon as she was gone, I stuffed my hair up in a hat to reduce the chances of being recognized and dragged into a chat that I absolutely didn’t want. Everyone in Mercy Hills knew who I was, though I couldn’t say it went the other way, and I absolutely couldn’t take the chance of someone getting close enough to notice any change in scent before I had an opportunity to beg Bax for help. I grabbed my laundry, and headed out. Dad had probably been right earlier, though not for the reason he thought. My scent had weakened all day, and now, close to suppertime, it was almost a normal not-in-heat type of scent. I was probably safe from being molested physically, though my reputation hung by a thread.
I prayed that the laundromat closest to our house would be empty, but it wasn’t, so I kept going with my bag of guilty sheets and tried the next one. This one was still unoccupied, shockingly enough, and I snagged a washer right by the door. I waved at the young man minding the accounts and yelled, “It’s Bram,” so my account—my parents’ account—would be debited.
The guy marked my name down for using a washer and tossed me a bag of soap without me having to come close enough that he could smell me. Though he probably didn’t know I was supposed to be in heat, but I wasn’t taking any chances. And now that I was out here, sprinkling soap powder over the evidence, I realized that just being out of the house was suspicious. Maybe. After all, I was the only omega born in Mercy Hills, male or female, in forty years. No one had a clue how my biology worked except the foreign omegas, and they seemed to enjoy playing off their omega mystery, so I was probably safe there. Hopefully the crowd last night meant no one had noticed that I hadn’t been to the party.
With the sheets chugging away, I headed back out, east this time, toward the former Alpha’s new house. He’d had it built by the wall, near where they were planning to smash an opening over to the new land as soon as the wall extension was finished. I could see other plots being prepared for more houses, two of them with skeletal frameworks reaching for the sky, and wondered who’d get them. They were all single, or just two houses smushed together. Not like home, which was a line of twenty houses sharing walls and roofs, packed full of shifters.
I knocked on the front door and bounced anxiously on my toes while I waited for Bax. He was walking slower now, what with the baby due. My hand went automatically to my belly at the thought, and I snatched it away. I didn’twantthis baby.
I didn’t.
It seemed to be taking forever. I wondered if I’d won my bet that he’d go on full moon after all, and if anyone would even answer the door. Maybe something had happened? Maybe no one was home? Where would I go for help? My stomach began to churn and I wrapped my arms around my ribs and squeezed so tight it got hard to breathe.
