Page 90 of The Omega Exchange: Omnibus

"It better fucking be a boy," Murph says, shaking his head. "How the hell do men do this with daughters?"

I bark a laugh, taking the seat at his side. "We should buy that large animal sanctuary soon so it doesn't look suspicious down the line."

"Good idea," Murphy says, pulling out his phone. "I'll do research now."

"This is going to be a wild ride," Archie says, coming in and taking a seat at my side.

"We'll manage," Connor says, sitting next to Murphy. "What the hell are you researching?"

"If it's a girl, we're going to need an easy body disposal system for any little fuckers who come nosing around," Murphy grumbles under his breath. "We should adopt several toddlers, all boys. That way, even if it's a girl we're covered."

"Mmm, I like that idea," Archie muses. "I think four or five kids is a good number."

Evie comes out of the bathroom and spots us.

"You all abandoned me," she says, laughing. "I see you all needed to sit down to regain your composure. Okay, get closer together. I want a picture of this."

Murphy sets down the phone and holds up the stick as we all indulge our perfect match of an omega.

Epilogue

Connor

Four Months Into Evie’s Pregnancy

"I'm pretty sure I'm dying," Evie groans. She's kneeling in front of the toilet. She's spent a lot of time here recently.

"You're all right," I say, offering her a water and a wet washcloth. We've got this routine down pat by now.

"Maybe I should stop eating for a while?" Evie mumbles. "There has to be some way to avoid this. I think this was a false alarm. Thank God, I just brushed my teeth after the last time."

Murphy pats her head with his giant hand. She truly is miserable. I'd change places with her if I could. Morning sickness morphed into all day sickness. Ginger tea, the pills the obstetrician gave her, old wives' tale remedies… none of them have helped.

"Remember what Dr. Cameron said," Murphy gently reminds her, pulling her up off the bathroom floor. "Being sick sucks, but it's a sign of a healthy pregnancy."

"I'm never doing this again," she groans.

Murph and I share a look. She's quite sick. It makes us all feel terribly helpless.

"Come on, little one," Murphy directs her out into the bedroom. "Let Connor rub your back while I make some ginger tea."

"Okay." She shuffles across the floor. She's slow and careful without her glasses. She curls up on her side, looking pitiful as hell, and I decide one baby is fine. We can spoil the kid rotten and adopt if we want more. I curl up around our wife and gently run my fingers over her back.

"All right," I say, sliding my hands over her lower back. "Let's see if we can't find the proper place to help calm you two down."

"Thanks," she murmurs. "I love you and your magical handsso damn much."

"I love you, too, little omega."

How I fucking wish I could make her feel better.

Seven Months Pregnant

"Sorry, darlin'," Luke says, scooping Evie up. "You know Murphy's watching the cameras right this second. I'm not risking his wrath."

"Pregnant women walk up and down stairs all the time," our wife says with a little humph. She sure snuggles into Luke's chest, though.

Yes, our hovering has exponentially increased over the last few months. It's an alpha thing, and it's nearly impossible to ignore. Thankfully, Eileen was fully prepared to run the place, because none of us have been as invested in the day to day business as we were before Everly.