Page 38 of The Kingpin’s Omega Lover (River City Omegas #2)

Next Spring

Malori stepped through the wide bedroom doorway and out onto the tiled veranda that overlooked their private lagoon. Warm, salty air caressed his cheeks and bare chest. He closed his eyes and smiled up at the mid-morning sunshine that always filled the bedroom at this hour.

Well, not always. Three months ago, they’d battened down the hatches for a tropical storm, which had darkened the sky for half a day, and they had relied on the generator for about eight hours until power was restored.

But most of the time, Malori basked in the sunlight, fresh air, and absolute freedom that was home on Capablanca Island.

The veranda surrounded the entire single-story house and had four separate access points, which made it feel like an extension of the home.

They ate dinner outside most nights, at a long table directly off the dining room.

Malori glanced to his left, but the section outside of Bishop and Kensley’s bedroom was empty.

They weren’t up yet, which meant little baby Rook was still asleep.

Malori’s experience with newborns was limited, so all four grown men in the house were getting a crash course in all-hours crying.

He walked across the width of the veranda and stepped onto the soft strip of sand that led to the lagoon’s warm water.

Malori didn’t know how King had found and purchased this spectacular piece of land, only that it had fulfilled the promises King made of a safe, happy life, far from his known enemies.

The bounty of fresh fruit and daily morning swims were bonus features.

Malori stepped into the warm, still water, crystal clear and better than any indoor pool.

The lagoon itself was about the size of a baseball diamond, and only seven feet at its deepest during high tide, which it was now.

The perfect time to swim. He moved farther into the water, until it rose to mid-thigh, and then he sank down.

Pushed off and slid smoothly forward, cutting through the water on long, easy strokes.

He swam to the middle of the lagoon. Turned onto his back and floated. Shafts of sunlight made it through the thick canopy of trees around the perimeter, and he basked in the warmth on his face. So peaceful. Very much worth everything they’d sacrificed to be here.

Worth the difficult choices Malori himself had made to bring him to this exact moment.

He could never hope to understand the complicated business dealings behind King’s empire, or everything it took to extricate himself from it permanently. The promises, the deals, the money exchanged.

The sacrifices on all sides.

A familiar, high-pitched toddler’s screech of excitement startled Malori into flipping around and treading water.

Thorn was stalking in circles in front of the bedroom door, his chubby legs stamping on the ground while he yelled.

Malori swam toward shore but he wasn’t worried, because within seconds, King stepped outside and scooped Thorn up in his arms.

Their son squawked. His arms flailed and he pointed.

King followed the limited reach of his little fist, and King met Malori’s eyes over the glimmering surface of the water.

King smiled, bright and carefree, and full of the same love and devotion he’d shown since they’d first met, one year ago this month.

Malori glided toward his son and his unofficial husband, uncaring of labels, because all that mattered was the love in his heart for those two men. And his growing love for the baby under his barely-there bump.

Choosing to have a child with King had been a series of long, intense conversations, not only about Malori’s aversion to being penetrated, but also King’s own fears about being a biological father.

King’s hatred of his own father for everything he’d put King and his mother through had created a fear in King of having his own children.

Fear of failing them like he’d been failed.

Two months ago, they’d both agreed they were ready to try during Malori’s upcoming fertile period—with a turkey baster.

For as much as Malori loved and trusted King, he simply could not handle being fucked, not even for the brief time it would take to ejaculate inside him.

They had a lot of fun edging those deposits out of King, though, and in the end, they were pregnant.

His first pregnancy outside of captivity, with wide open skies, stunning landscapes, and sparkling ocean water all around him.

“Dada!” Thorn hollered. “Want Dada!”

“Dada’s coming, baby,” Malori said as he stood in the shallow water. King stepped down onto the sand and released Thorn to toddle over to the water’s edge. Thorn was still leery of the water touching his feet, but they were working on it, so they could eventually teach him how to swim.

Thorn reached up. Malori stooped and swung his boy onto his hip. Smothered him in a wet, salty hug that made Thorn squeal. “How’s my favorite little man?” Malori asked. “What do we want for breakfast?”

“Jam totes.”

Jam toast was Thorn’s new favorite thing to eat for any meal: a slice of toasted white bread, a smear of butter, and a thick coating of whatever fruit jam they picked up at the market. Right now, it was pineapple marmalade. “That sounds delicious. Can I have some jam totes?”

“Yep.” Thorn nodded solemnly.

“Do you think Papa wants some, too?”

“Papa gets plain.”

Malori laughed, not only at Thorn’s seriousness, but King’s exaggerated grimace at being assigned dry toast for breakfast. “Can Papa at least have butter on his toast?”

Thorn shrugged then struggled, so Malori put him down. He immediately sat and started digging in the sand. King came up and wrapped his arms around Malori. “Papa wants bacon and eggs with his toast,” King said. “You?”

“Sounds good.” They bought their eggs and pork products from local farmers. Malori had never eaten such delicious eggs or seen such vibrant, orange yolks in his life. And they always seemed to get at least one double-yolk per dozen.

A plus side of island life was supporting your neighbors.

All carefully vetted and investigated neighbors, approved before King bought their property.

He’d spared no expense in relocating his family to a safe location, far from his few remaining enemies.

Malori didn’t know all the details of how King had dissolved his businesses and associations, and he’d never ask.

It didn’t matter anymore.

“Any nausea this morning?” King asked.

“No, actually. I keep waiting for the morning sickness. I had it with my first two, but so far, so good.”

“Excellent. I can’t stand it when you stub your toe. I don’t know how I’m going to handle you puking into the toilet.”

Malori laughed. “Just wait until I’m in screaming labor.”

King shuddered then kissed him. “I don’t want to think about that yet. I may need sedatives.”

“Get in line.” But Malori was secretly looking forward to giving birth this time.

He was free, he lived freely with his baby’s father, and their child would never know a day without his or her parents.

“It’s true what they say, though. You really don’t remember the pain.

Only the joy of holding them for the first time. ”

Or the moment you held them for the last time. Like his daughter.

Malori rested his cheek on King’s shoulder and closed his eyes.

Three days after securing Aleks Yovenko, King had made contact with Marta through another business associate, using Aleks as leverage to make the call happen.

Malori hadn’t been allowed to listen and wasn’t privy to all the details, but King had made several concessions to the woman in exchange for the information that they couldn’t get from Aleks.

With promises in place on both sides, King had traded Aleks Yovenko to Marta for several legal documents, as well as reassurances from King that he would cease his attempts to punish her for auctioning off Kensley.

Kensley had agreed to the deal before King presented it to Malori.

It was a huge personal sacrifice on Kensley’s part, but it helped knowing that Oswald was still intent on punishing Marta for kidnapping his sister.

Marta was unlikely to get away with her ample crimes much longer.

The most important document Marta traded was the adoption papers for Malori’s eldest child. An adoption to a painfully kind couple who had provided a wonderful life for his daughter. A life Malori had agonized over for weeks and, ultimately, decided not to rip her away from.

He would grieve that loss for the rest of his life, but Malori also woke up each morning confident he’d made the correct choice for the course of hers.

He slept each night knowing that Ziggy was watching from afar, and that he would send notice if her life veered even a fraction off course. Only then would they interfere.

Nothing would ever replace his daughter in Malori’s life, but he could move forward knowing she was happy and loved.

King’s hip beeped. He pulled his cell out of his shorts pocket and chuckled at the screen. “Davia is asking what we want for breakfast,” King said. “How do you want your eggs?”

“Two, over easy.”

“Perfect.” King thumbed the reply, then put his phone away. The best part of island life was how infrequently any of their phones rang. Life was slow, simple, and safe.

“I need to rinse off before we eat,” Malori said. “I’ll meet you and Thorn in the dining room.”

“Okay.”

Malori kissed his man then stepped around him.

Crossed the sand to the patio and went into their bedroom.

He shed his swimsuit in the bathroom and washed quickly in their large, walk-in shower.

By the time he’d dressed and joined his two men in the dining room, Bishop and Kensley were there, too, both baggy-eyed and yawning.

Rook was a very demanding baby.

“Is Rook finally asleep?” Malori asked.