Page 16 of Saving His Omega
“Being kind is easy. So is providing for my family.” He rubbed his chin on the top of Tripp’s head. “It’s more than just that when you’re someone’s sire, though, isn’t it? I need to teach her things and help her learn to make good decisions. What do I know about being a sigma?
“My mother can help there, of course. So can my father. I bet he was equally at a loss when I was whelped. Not many sigmas sire dominants. I guess I was a throwback to my grandfather. He was a beta.”
Graham mused some more about how to be a good parent. He ran Tripp’s braid through his fingers. “I hope she has your hair. It’s so lovely, like sunshine. Mine is as brown as dirt, nothing special.”
“Don’t say that! I love the color your hair. It reminds me of fertile soil.” Tripp surprised himself with his boldness, but his mate did make him feel safe to speak his mind…on some things, anyway.
Graham laughed. “You’re good for my pride, sweetheart.”
Then he surprised Tripp with yet another question.
“What do you want to name the pup?”
Tripp hadn’t given that any thought. He frowned. “That’s a sire’s privilege, isn’t it?”
His mate snorted. “Perhaps in your old pack. Not here, though. Parents decide together. Do any names appeal to you?”
Tripp thought about all the females in his family. Remembering made him sad, though. He shook his head.
“Hmm. Well, I’ve always liked Grace. One of my grandmother’s had that name. What do you think?”
“It’s lovely.” Tripp would have agreed to any name his mate had picked. In this case, he was telling the truth.
“Then it’s settled. Are you hungry?”
The pup had quieted down, allowing his stomach to grab his attention. “I am, yes.”
“Let’s eat.”
Graham plucked the blanket, wool and needle from where they lay across Tripp and put them aside. He pulled over the basket and opening it, rummaged around.
“Ham and cheese sandwiches with some homemade mustard.” He waved it in front of Tripp’s face. “Have a bite.”
Does he mean to feed me?Yes, he did.
Settling back against his mate’s chest, Tripp bit into the sandwich. Delicious. If nothing else, his new pack was feeding him far better than he’d been fed before. He made quick work of the sandwich, washing it down with cider, then ate fruit and a cookie. Graham fed it all to him, and with the last morsel of food swishing down his throat on a river of cider, Tripp closed his eyes and relaxed against Graham’s firm, broad chest.
He tumbled into sleep.
****
Graham couldn’t stop grinning like a fool all the way back to the longhouse. A lazy afternoon of doing nothing except feeding his mate and enjoying nature had made him happier than he’d been in a long time. Not since he’d been a pup. Not that he’d been unhappy before mating with Tripp. It was simply that he hadn’t understood what he’d been missing as an unmated shifter. Having Tripp and the pup to look after completed him in a way he hadn’t understood before.
The omega sat with his chin lifted and his eyes closed. He wore an expression of joy, the most unguarded he’d seen the boy be since arriving. The food and nap had helped, but the real benefit, he figured, was the setting by the river. So much fresh air and sunshine was invigorating. As nice as the longhouse and working sheds were, they were no substitute for the outdoor existence that shifters had lived since the beginning of time. Modernity had its benefits for sure, especially when snow fell heavily and the bitter cold of winters seeped past their fur. For now, though, it was important to seek out the natural world when they could. He brushed aside the guilt he felt over postponing his duties to the pack. Tripp was more important.
He parked the jeep back in the shed where it belonged and helped his mate out, then handed him the cloth bag with his crocheting items.
“There’s still a few hours before dinner. Why don’t you go and spend the rest of the afternoon in the crafts shed.”
Tripp took the bag. “Yes, Graham.” He turned to leave.
“Hey.” Graham gave into a sudden urge. Taking his mate by the arm, he swung him around and planted a slow kiss on his lips.
He’d intended to keep it light, but one taste, and he was lost. The sweet flavor of the omega’s lips, coupled with his inexperience in even this simple gesture of affection, was intoxicating. A little wasn’t enough. Wrapping his arms around the boy, he used his tongue to nudge the soft lips open and licked the inside. Warm and welcoming. There was no hesitation on the omega’s part to not only allow him in, but to greet his tongue with his own. They danced around Tripp’s mouth, each moaning down the other’s throat. Their wolves yipped along, testament to how much healing had been done by their shifting the previous day. He wanted to do it again, to stay with his mate.
Duty called, however.
Graham broke the kiss and panted as their cheeks pressed together. “I love the taste of you.”
