Epilogue 3
10MonthsLater(Soleilat one-year-old)
Dominic
My daughter has cake in her hair, frosting on both fists, and a piece of wrapping paper stuck to her cheek that she's been trying to eat for the past three minutes.
The living room of the condo looks like a toy store detonated. Wrapping paper covers the hardwood in layers. A stuffedelephant from Tamsin sits on the couch with a bow still attached to its ear. The cake occupies the center of the kitchen table with a chunk missing where Soleil grabbed a fistful before anyone could stop her as our baby girl sits in her high chair surveying the destruction with visible satisfaction.
"She's eaten more frosting than cake." Amos picks a piece of wrapping paper off the floor. "The sugar intake is going to hit in approximately twenty minutes and we should prepare accordingly."
"She's one. Let her eat frosting." Mattaniah leans against the kitchen counter with a glass of sparkling cider and an energy that's been pushing against me all day. His scent has been running sweet since breakfast, brushing against my senses every time he moves past me.
The cider registers somewhere in the back of my mind. He hasn't touched his wine in a week. I file it away but don't say anything, cataloging everything else that has been off.
It started at breakfast when he wore my shirt to the table with nothing underneath it and made eye contact while licking syrup off his thumb. It continued through the party preparations when he bent over to pick up a dropped streamer and stayed bent for three seconds longer than the task required. During the party he sat on my lap instead of the empty chair, shifted his weight until I was half-hard beneath him, and stood to greet Tamsin's arrival as if nothing had happened.
He's been doing this for months. The Omega who used to be slightly more timid now takes what he wants without an apology. I love it. I also want to pin him to the nearest flat surface every time he does it, which is the point.
"Dominic." Mattaniah's voice cuts through. He's standing by the counter with one hip cocked and the cider glass held against his lower lip. "You're staring."
"I'm looking at my mate."
"You're staring at my ass. There's a difference." He takes a sip of the cider and his eyes hold mine over the rim. "Our daughter's birthday party is not the venue."
"You sat on my lap during the party and ground against me while Tamsin was talking about her promotion. You don't get to lecture me about venue."
His cheeks flush but the grin doesn't falter. Amos makes a noise from somewhere behind me that could be a laugh or could be a cough. By the time the party guests start to empty out, I’m on edge, waiting for the last of them to disappear.
Tamsin is the last to go, pressing a kiss to Soleil's frosted forehead and pointing at Mattaniah with a look I wasn't privy to. The condo is ours again, three adults and one sugar-fueled infant who is now attempting to put her entire foot in her mouth.
"Bath time." Amos lifts Soleil out of the high chair while holding her at arm's length because the frosting has spread from her hands to her elbows. "I'll handle this. You two handle..." He looks between us. "Whatever is happening here."
"Nothing is happening here." Mattaniah's voice comes off innocent but nobody is fooled.
"Something has been happening here since breakfast." Amos carries Soleil toward the bathroom. "I have eyes and a functional bond, Niah. Clean up the cake."
The bathroom door closes and the faucet starts running as Soleil's shriek carries through the wall. She hates bath time with a passion Amos attributes to my genetics.
Mattaniah picks up the cake knife and starts cutting the remaining cake into storage portions, his back to me, his loose clothing hinting toward something I now need an answer to. I wait for a little while, though, content to watch our Omega. "You've been bratty all day." I say it from the doorway.
"I've beenfestive." He doesn't turn around. "It's our daughter's birthday. I'm celebrating."
"You're testing me."
"Maybe." The cutting pauses as he glances over his shoulder, the look in his eyes making my cock twitch against my zipper. "What are you going to do about it, put another baby in me?"
My hands grip the door frame. His scent has shifted, the coconut deepening into the cream that means he's aroused, filling the kitchen between us. "Maybe I will."
"Too late." Amos' voice carries from the bathroom doorway. He's standing there with Soleil on his hip wrapped in a towel, his glasses fogged from the bath steam. "I already did."
The kitchen goes silent except for Soleil babbling against Amos' shoulder.
"You knew." I look at Amos.
"He threw up Tuesday morning and again Thursday. He's been avoiding his morning coffee for a week. His scent changed three days ago, the same vanilla and honey shift from last time." Amos adjusts Soleil on his hip. "I bought a test yesterday. He took it this morning before the party."
"You took a test this morning and didn't tell me." I turn to Mattaniah.
