BEAU
The second thewords are out of my mouth, I wince.
Way too hopeful. Way too romantic. Way too much pressure to put on an omega I’ve just met.
I pull my hand back before I keep moving too fast. “Sorry, that was weird. I didn’t mean with you.”
Shit, no, that’s over-correcting.
Ruby’s manicured brows knit together in displeasure. “You didn’t?”
“I mean, I did. But also I didn’t? I meant that I’m over them as much as I can be. That I’m done letting what happened keep me from the potential of something good. Maybe that something is with you. But I don’t want you to think…”
Ruby’s smile returns, lips quirking up a bit more in one corner. “That you’re mentally already bonded to me with three kids and another on the way?”
Well, now I am.
“Yeah, exactly.” I push some of the wilted spinach around on my plate to distract myself from how awkward I’m being.
“For what it’s worth, I bet our kids would be really cute.” The words are so nonchalant that I wonder if I’ve misheard her, but she continues. “Your eyes, my hair. Adorable.”
I try to act calm that she’s thinking about combining our genetic material, but fuck if my alpha isn’t delighted by the thought. Not only about the sex producing those kids would require, but the thought of being a parent.
I want kids. I didn’t think they were in the cards for me, and I’d never pressure a partner into having them, but I really want to be a dad.
I’m about to ask her what her natural hair color is so I can better imagine these fantasy kids when I realize I already know because I’ve seen the dark brown patch of hair between her thighs.
“Do you…want kids?” I ask cautiously, not wanting to seem too eager.
She shrugs. “Do you?”
“Not fair,” I grumble. “I’ve been answering all of your tough questions. Don’t make me go first this time.”
She giggles at my frustration, which is good because I was worried it came off as too grumpy. “You’re right. Kids are…complicated. I think I’d enjoy being a parent, but I very much am not a fan of the thought of actually being pregnant and childbirth.” She frowns. “Which is unfortunate, given my typical omega breeding kink.”
“Fuck.” The word is low and tinged with a pleased growl, falling from my lips before I can stop it. She has to stop saying things like that or I’m going to get fully hard here at the table.
“Sorry to disappoint,” she says, pretending to not understand my reaction. She leans in a little, giving me another one of her wicked smiles, and I desperately need to scent mark her, even though it won’t work while I’m slathered in scent neutralizer. “I’m absolutely open to adopting or using a surrogate, or if therewas another person who could get pregnant in my pack, that could work. And I’m more than happy to play pretend.”
“Ruby, please.” My groan is pained, my cock now pressing insistently against the zipper of my pants, and my knot growing.
She lets out a delighted peal of laughter. “Sorry, I’ll try to behave.” Sipping her wine, she watches me with glittering eyes. “For the record, though, you sound good when you beg.”
I swallow hard, willing my erection to flag. “Noted.”
Ruby takes pity on me, moving the conversation to a less sexually charged topic.
We discuss our hobbies—she’s a gamer and I’m more of a book nerd, but we share a common enjoyment of fantasy worlds.
She tells me she volunteers at an omega clinic, which makes my time at the animal shelter seem silly in comparison, but she argues that it’s never silly to give help to those who don’t have anyone else looking out for them.
I discover that both her parents are Greek when she jokes about being the modern embodiment of Aphrodite after I compliment her style.
We discuss what would happen if there was a zombie apocalypse right now—we’d both fight and try to escape to safety, but decide my bum shoulder would eventually get me killed while trying to protect her and she’d think of me fondly while she’s waiting things out in a remote cabin in the mountains.
It’s the best goddamn date I’ve been on in my life. I don’t want it to end, and I guess she doesn’t either because we order dessert and coffee, lingering over them until there’s nothing left and the server brings the check.
“So…” I start, as the awkwardness and nerves creep in while I finish signing the receipt. I mentally examine every moment of the evening so far, picking them apart for clues about what to askor say. “Thank you for having dinner with me. I had a really great time.”
