Page 16

West

On Mondays, I didn’t open the truck but, even though it technically was a day off, it really wasn’t. There were no days off when you worked for yourself, I had discovered.

I drove to the city and bought new supplies. New flavors to try out and some different cups and straws. Antoine had opted to stay home. His stomach had been upset lately off and on. We chalked it up to too many shaved ice cups. Completely my fault for making him try every new flavor combination and then some.

It was a lot of sugar.

I got everything I could for the next day, minus the ice. I had it delivered every other day and bought a huge freezer courtesy of the money from selling my house. But business had been good and I could see myself actually being able to help provide for us.

We worked as a team, Antoine and I. We’d thrown out the roles of alpha and omega, except, of course for the bedroom roles. He worked so hard day in and day out to the point where sometimes I had to remind him to get sleep or eat.

Especially lately with the upset tummy business. Even his scent had changed a bit.

I put all the supplies into the garage and walked inside, ready to see my mate. He was especially gorgeous when he painted. He had been working on a piece that required the morning light streaming through the dining room and so, when I walked into our home and saw him standing there in the sunshine, wearing only a shirt and underwear, I felt like I was in heaven and he was my angel.

“Good morning,” I said. Sometimes I got a greeting from him; other times I didn’t. My mate didn’t have a rude bone in his body, but there were times he was so engrossed that the world around him, including me, simply ceased to exist. It was one of the many things that I loved about him, his passion for his work.

Instead of a greeting, he put his paintbrushes down, always more than one in his hand, and groaned.

“What is it?” I asked, rushing over only to be shoved out of the way. He ran to the bathroom and, soon after, I heard the sounds of heaving.

He had been doing that too much lately.

The smell of every food on the planet with the exception of my snowballs made him sick. He was going to sleep earlier and waking up later.

Wait a damned minute.

Stomach. Sleepy. Food aversions. Scent change.

“Antoine?” I called out and stepped into the bathroom. I grabbed a washcloth, ran some hot water over it, and soaked another one with cool. My poor omega. Suffering through this…this morning sickness.

“I didn’t even eat this morning. No coffee. Nothing.” His chin quivered. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Did I mention that I hate being sick?”

I nodded and flushed the toilet and closed the lid, helping him to sit on top of it.

“Here you go.” I handed him the cloth for his face while placing the other one on the back of his neck. “And yes, you mentioned that once or twice.”

“Maybe it’s time we go to the healer. I need to finish my paintings and I can’t when I’m running here to throw up every five minutes.”

My mate was hurting and in turn, I was hurting with him. What pained him pained me.

“I think I know what might be happening to you, Antoine,” I said, speaking as gently as I could.

“What is it? Food poisoning? I thought of that, but we always cook at home, and you keep the kitchen spotless. There’s no way. There is something else I thought of…”

Before he spiraled any more, I put my hand up. “I think you might be pregnant, my love.”

He stopped talking immediately and sat up. “Do you, do you think so?”

“Think about your symptoms, Antoine.”

He gave me a faint smile. “I actually already did. And then I promptly put it out of my mind. But, the other day, I bought something just in case. I didn’t want to do it alone.”

He opened the drawer in the cabinet and pulled out pregnancy tests. Three of them.

“You never have to do anything alone. Especially this,” I said. We read the instructions together, and I stayed in the bathroom while he took the test and then hopped in the shower. He thought the cool water might help him.

As he got out, the timer went off, alerting us that the test was ready.

“Read it, alpha. Read it for me, please.”

I picked up the stick and saw two lines. I conferred with the instructions and then turned to my mate. “It’s positive, Antoine. You’re pregnant.”

He let a huge breath whoosh from his mouth. “We didn’t talk about this. I mean, we said we were going to have kids eventually but I didn’t know it would be this soon. I’m sorry.”

“What?” I raised my voice and reached for him, pulling him into my embrace. “Why in the world are you sorry? Our love did this. Our love created this little one in your belly. I’m so damned happy right now. Aren’t you? It’s not the best timing, but these things rarely are.”

“I am,” he said and dropped the towel. He put his hands on his belly. “Our babe is in there.”

“They are,” I replied and kissed his temple and then his lips. He’d brushed his teeth in the shower which I once thought was silly, but he did it to save time. “We still need to go to the healer and see about these symptoms though. There has to be something we can do.”

I put my hands over his, knowing that we created something together out of love and it was growing inside him. There was no limit to my joy.

“I’ll call Quinn the healer now. He’s in town.”

“Good,” I said. “And after that, I’m celebrating this body and you.”