Fantasy, of course, but it was a fun fantasy to pretend that that would happen, and there was a chance that somebody would say that to him. Probably wouldn’t be Mom.
Now if he asked Nick, Nick would totally provide cheesy, yummy potatoes with ham.
Really, he should have hooked up with Nick. Although, even though Devon wasn’t the world’s most enthusiastic cook, Laird had socks coming out his wazoo and there wasa sweater already started that was exactly fit just for him and in his favorite colors.
He pulled into the parking lot, and grinned, because Devon was waiting for him up by the doors, his knitting bag over his shoulder. A wave of love hit him so hard he almost doubled over.
God, he was a lucky asshole.
Devon waved at him, offering him a wide smile. “Good morning. I’m glad that we caught each other. I know you have to be tired, but thanks for coming to breakfast.”
“Of course. Any time.” He wrapped one arm around Devon’s waist and led him towards the door. “What are you knitting?”
“This is a hat.”
“For the baby?” He loved all of these little baby clothes that just came pouring out in all different sizes. It was adorable. This was going to be the warmest baby in history.
“No, it’s for you. I’m doing it in your tartan. I thought if you liked it, I could make one for your dad too.”
“Dad would love that.” Laird wrapped an arm around Devon’s waist and steered him inside. “What’s on your plan for today? Do you have a lot of stuff going on?”
“Like I said, I don’t have a lot. I have one meeting at ten thirty, and then I have an ultrasound. After that, I have a tour of the birthing center at three, but I should be home by four o’clock at the latest.”
“Good deal. I thought I would cook dinner tonight.” Laird waggled his eyebrows and made kissy motions with his lips because that always made Devon laugh.
“That sounds perfect.” Devon settled into their favorite booth and patted the seat next to him. “You know how much I love to cook.”
“I do.” They were both being sarcastic, but that wasokay. That was one of the things he adored about Devon—that he admitted he wasn’t particularly good at things like cooking or gardening, which were supposed to be omegas’ things. But take him to a fiber art show and he knew every single thing there was to know.
Devon reached over and grabbed his hand. “I’m sorry it was such a hard night, love. I have to tell you, just going from your face, that it was tough.”
“It was. I’m not gonna lie. And it was even worse because Nick and I weren’t together on the bus. We know each other so well by now that it’s sucky when we have to work with someone else.” It had taken him ten minutes just to scrub the blood off his hands after the car accident was over, and he hated that feeling. “I have to admit, I’m really looking forward to starting school because I’m not sure how much longer I can keep doing accidents like that and stuff. I love my job, you know that, but it hurts my heart, and the closer we get to having this baby, the more I think, ‘What would happen if…’”
“I understand. I think about it a lot.” Devon put a hand on his belly, which was starting to grow. “Having babies and knowing what can happen when one is having a baby is a little daunting.”
“Yeah.” He got that too. He had delivered a few babies himself. “We just have to breathe when it comes to that, right? What does Raven say about it?”
“He says that once I get into being in labor, I’m not going to care anymore about what I know and what I don’t know, and I’m just going to holler like the rest of our clients.” Devon winked, obviously making a joke. “He does say that the baby seems to be growing perfectlynormally, which makes me happy.” Devon winked at him. “And the morning sickness is fading fast.”
“That’s wonderful.” Because sometimes, he knew Devon wanted to eat something so bad, and he would get it near him, and he would nope out.
And that sucked. Laird had seen it with chemo patients, too. Folks didn’t realize how fucking frustrating that could be.
Now, the cravings? They hadn’t eased up even a little bit. In fact, Laird thought that was getting worse.
Worse than a little bit if he was honest. They literally had the pickles and ice cream talk at one point, and Devon went, “I’d try it.”
Partially he thought that Devon was just enjoying having him find strange foods at weird hours of the night.
I’d like a sausage and olive pizza at two a.m.
I’m in desperate need of strawberries, whipped cream, and Oreo cookies right now.
I need a cupcake, but not just any cupcake—it has to be a chocolate cupcake filled with peaches soaked in caramel and topped with tahini something or other that no one on earth would ever be able to get in a million years.
And yet somehow, since he was the alpha, he had to figure this out. It hurt his soul a little bit.
On the other hand, it amused him wildly, especially when he managed and he got to watch Devon eat it, and there was this joy.
