Page 76 of The Omega's Fake Mate

“I don't know. It would be nice, though, wouldn't it? If we could own the place where we live.” That the apartment wasn't technicallyminehadn't bothered me so much before, but now that I was going to live here with my mate and child... There was definitely something to be said for home ownership.

Nick sighed. “I guess you're right. At least this time we don't have to pretend with them?”

I sat down beside Nick and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I was never really pretending anyway.”

He chuckled. “Trying to get me in a good mood?”

“Is it working?”

“Not yet.” Playfully, he shoved me aside. “Go call your parents and set up a date so I can prepare mentally.”

“Fine, but once we have a date, I'm holding you to it.”

“What, you think I'd try to reschedule my flight back to LA just to avoid a meeting with your parents? The thought's never crossed my mind. Your family is lovely.”

“Sure.” Snorting, I grabbed my phone.

At least Nick and I were in this together now.

* * *

My parents invitedus over for dinner the following Sunday. Over the phone, I only said that we had an announcement to make, but I kept them in the dark as to what it might be. I admit, part of me wanted to see their faces when we told them. Yes, they wanted me to father children, but I was somewhat certain that at least my mother still held some reservations as to my choice of mate.

Fuck her.

Sunday night, we stood on my parent's porch right on time, in our best evening attire—well, Nick hadn't really brought evening attire, but he looked fantastic anyway—and knocked on the door.

When my mother opened the door, she wasted no time cutting to the heart of the matter. Of course not. My parents valued efficiency in both their professional and private lives.

“Are you two getting married?” she asked, hands on her hips, as we were hanging up our coats.

“Mother!”

“Well, are you, or aren't you? It's a simple enough question, don't you think? I don't understand why you couldn't just tell us over the phone.”

“Please, Mother. In reality, you're glad to have us over for dinner.”

“I suppose it is nice to see your face every now and then. You spend too much time in that store.”

“I work there.”

She made a discarding gesture, the way she always did when I insinuated that running a bookstore was real work. To her, I would always just betaking my hobby too far.One reason I never told her how much money I was making off my writing. She wouldn't believe me anyway.

“It smells good,” Nick spoke up as if trying to prevent an argument from happening. It did smell good, though. I thought I could catch a hint of roasted meat and cooked vegetables in the air. Carrots and onions?

“Thank you, dear. I've prepared my famous beef roast for tonight.”

“Sounds great,” I said. “Should we head to the dining room?”

“Yes, please.” My mother led us there, temporarily forgetting that I still hadn't answered her original question.

She didn't remember to ask again, either. Not until my father brought the topic up when we were halfway through dinner and, I suspected, the worst of his perpetual appetite had been sated. “What is it that the two of you wanted to discuss with us?” he asked, a forkful of beef hovering in mid-air on the way to his mouth. “I hope it's good news after your sister just broke off her engagement.”

She did? I hadn't even heard. Perhaps she'd realized that she shouldn't marry just to please our parents after all.

Go, Lissy!

“Well,” I started, “we're not here to announce an engagement.”