Page 23 of Beary Mated Christmas

“If a strong kick means they like it, then yes!”

Done with shopping, we moved out onto the sidewalk. “Where would you like to eat?” he asked. “Italian? Mexican? Diner? For a small town, they seem to have a lot of options.”

“Chinese.” I smiled at him. “If that’s okay?”

“Of course, if there is one.” He looked up and down the street. “I’m not sure—”

“It’s right this way. I spotted it when we got here.” And I was going to buy a dozen egg rolls to take home. Maybe two dozen.

After we finished and I picked up my to-go bag, Denali took it from me. “Looks like a new craving, eh, mate? Should I stop the donuts?”

And then suddenly I desperately wanted a donut. “No, in fact I would like one now.”

“Then let’s stop at the donut shop by the highway.” As I started off, he grabbed my hand and gently tugged me to face him. “Omega, always tell me what you need, okay?”

How lucky was I to have such a great, insightful alpha. “Thank you. I just figured this was too far.”

“I’ll always take care of you, even if I have to drive six hours or make egg rolls from scratch.”

My jaw dropped. “You can do that?”

“I can learn.”

Much PDA ensued.

Chapter Seventeen

Denali

Abel looked so uncomfortable, and I didn’t know what to do to help him.

He struggled to get up out of his chair, not the standing part but the keeping-his-balance part. His belly just kept him off-kilter, I guessed. But every time I tried to assist him, he insisted he had it, and it was fine.

It wasn’t.

The first part of his pregnancy, he was the normal tired and nauseous. Second trimester, he had the horny phase, and I did not mind it a single bit. Watching him grow with our child did things to me I hadn’t expected, and having him want it just as bad made that trimester fabulous.

But as the third trimester marched on, he started to slow down. Then I noticed little flinches, an unsteadiness on his feet. At least it was summer, not the school year, and he was able to rest some. But still, I felt awful, because at the end of the day, I was the reason he was like this.

I talked to Mac, the midwife, and he said it was just from being pregnant, and everybody’s body adjusts differently. But something told me it was more than that, and I’d pretty much refused to leave his side. It was almost like when we were back in the cabin where our baby was conceived, spending all of our days together, only now, they weren’t quite as fun for him.

“Midwife’s coming over in an hour,” I reminded him.

“Yeah, that’s probably good. My back’s really awful today. I want to take a shower.”

In the beginning, when it would hurt, he’d take a bath, but getting in and out of the tub now was hard, even with my help.

“I hate that,” he said, waddling over to me, “I don’t love being pregnant.”

I cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry, love. Don’t feel guilt over it. Pregnancy is hard. You’re growing a cub or a pup. It takes a lot of work. Your body’s on overtime.”

We didn’t care if we were having a wolf or a bear, as long as we had a healthy baby. That was all that mattered.

“Well, maybe a shower would help,” I said, not overly optimistic.

I set the water temperature for him and helped him get undressed. Once under the steamy spray, he sighed, the tension easing from his shoulders. If the midwife wasn’t on their way, I’d have joined him, but Mac had a tendency to come early.

We lucked out finding him. Going to a doctor was not something my mate wanted. He wanted a shifter, one who understood omega shifter pregnancies and one who made house calls.