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Story: A Home for Tyler
“Where should we go?” We hadn’t been on a date night in a long time.
Date nights weren’t something that I had witnessed growing up in my den. Mates were just mates. There was nothing romantic to it. But here…here, there seemed to be a strong understanding that mates coming first included spending quality time together—both on and off den lands.
“It’s a surprise.”
He gathered up the clothing piles I’d made and set them on the bed for me to finish sorting. He’d offered to help me multiple times, but, for some reason, in my mind, this had to be done by me. It was ridiculous. They were just clothes. It didn’t matter if they were in the right pile before heading to the washing machine. But there was no arguing with rationality when it came to my big old pregnant brain, because…hormones.
We drove into town, stopping first at my favorite shop for a caprese sandwich. That was one consistency throughout my entire pregnancy—a baguette with fresh mozzarella. What came with that changed. Sometimes it was basil and oil. Sometimes it was mayonnaise and tomatoes. Sometimes it was ham and not deli ham. No, that would be too easy. It had to be a big hunk of ham, still warm from the oven.
The cheese and the bread were the consistent part of my diet. And probably why my belly reached the doorway before I did.
“This is perfect.” I snatched one of his chips, mine long gone, and popped it into my mouth.
“And it’s only beginning.”
He was so excited that I became excited, even though my body was getting close to the go-to-bed-or-fall-asleep-standing-up time of day.
Our next stop was a store that had a huge grand opening sign above it. It was named Zoe’s, which gave nothing away. And it wasn’t until we walked inside that I realized we were in a baby store, or at least a young children’s store. Clothes, toys,furniture, you name it, they had it. Best of all, it wasn’t the same old baby items we saw in the box store. These were unique, high quality, and, in many cases, handmade.
We were greeted at the door by an old man with a huge smile and a booklet in his hand.
“Coupons,” he announced proudly as he held it out for us. “And there’s cookies in the back.”
Coupons and cookies. What more could a pregnant fox ask for?
I thanked him and leaned in to my mate. “What are we here for? Specifically.”
I had to ask because the odds were good that I was going to find a lot I was interested in, and if I was focusing just on the items we were there for I had a better chance of sticking within budget.
He took out his phone and opened an email, showing it to me. It was an extremely generous gift card for Zoe’s and it was signed, All your friends at Animals.
“We have a gift certificate?”
“Yep. It’s from the crew at Animals. Just came today. In exchange, they want to have lots and lots of pictures.”
“We can do that.” They already got daily bump updates.
We hadn’t been back for a few months, pregnancy and a new job sucking up a lot of our time, but we still talked to people randomly and were part of an active group text. I normally hated group texts but was grateful for this one.
It wasn’t difficult to find items that would be perfect for the baby: a bassinet that converted into a crib for our room, a few adorable outfits, and, my favorite, handmade stuffies including a fox and a bear.
“Safe to say, our little one’s going to be spoiled.” I hugged the bear close.
“I’m thinking that’s just how it should be.” My mate tapped the nose of the bear.
This kind of spoiling was something I’d never had. My existence always there to further my family’s objectives. I’d never let that be the case for our little one. That not only deserved better, Dimitri and I were going to make sure they had it.
Because that’s what loving parents did.
Chapter Seventeen
Dimitri
The nursery was not complete, but since the baby would be sleeping in our room for some time, I wasn’t worried about that. Because my mate wasn’t.
“I’d rather wait until we meet our baby to decide on things like a color scheme or theme,” he said for at least the dozenth time, not that I was arguing about that. But some of the other omegas were apparently giving him a bit of a hard time. They didn’t understand.
“I take it you’ve been getting advice again.” His status as my omega apparently didn’t extend past “experienced” parents telling my mate how things should be done. “Want me to talk to them? Or their alphas?”