10. Jeremy
Iwas happy to run to Daisy’s apartment and grab her keys and shoes. Part of me wanted to insist on driving her to get fries, but a little light exercise was probably good for her.
Grabbing her shoes, I checked to see if she had any sturdier pairs and was disappointed that there weren”t any. Daisy wasn”t the most stubborn of people, but she definitely wouldn”t let me buy her new shoes. Yet.
Maybe I could get her a gift card and say that it was left over from Christmas? I wasn”t above lying to help her. If things went the way I wanted them to, then soon enough, Daisy would be totally open to my love and affection and overbearingly caring ways.
But I had to take things slowly.
She”d clearly been hurt before. Her current predicament was evidence of that. I didn”t know how she would react if I just came barrelling in, insisting on all this change. Everything I wanted to do was for her own benefit, but she could be resistant to that.
I was pleased to see that the deadbolt was still firmly in place. I hoped she had been using it. When I had left that first night after installing it, I had waited until I heard the click of the latch before going back to my own place.
Part of me had considered installing a security camera outside of my own front door. The camera would conveniently also cover the space in front of her front door, so I could make sure she was safe—y’know, because I was a good neighbor.
I was probably going into stalker territory, but frankly, I was beyond caring. I wanted Daisy to be safe and happy; if I had to do some creepy things to make that happen, well, that was a sacrifice I was willing to make.
Once I locked her door, I placed her keys in my back pocket and made my way back. Daisy was leaning over and petting Gilbert. They looked so perfect together. Despite her clearly exhausted and aching state, she was radiant.
“I”ve got your shoes. They were right where you said they would be.”
“That”s good.” She laughed. “Knowing my baby brain, I probably would have forgotten that I”d left them in the trash can or something.”
“Have you been leaving things in the trash can a lot?” I asked, not sure I really wanted to know the answer.
“I put a load of clean laundry in the trash the other day. My stupid pregnancy brain thought it was the laundry hamper. I had to wash them all over again.”
I pursed my lips, trying not to laugh at her. “That’s...something.”
“You can laugh. It’s downright idiotic. I really hope once this little parasite leaves my body, I will get some semblance of my intelligence back.”
She sat down on the armchair and leaned forward to try and get her shoes on. Unfortunately, her belly was in the way, and she made a frankly adorable grunting noise as she did so.
“Here,” I smiled at her as I knelt and gently took her shoe off her. “Let me help.”
She groaned. “I”m useless.”
“You”re not useless. You”re growing an entire human being right now. I think it”s forgivable that you can”t manage a lot of things,” I reasoned, gently sliding her foot into the shoe and tying up the laces. Up close, I was treated to a waft of her delectable pastry and apple scent. God, I wanted to drown in that scent. “There, ready to go.” I smiled up at her.
“Thank you,” she said as I stood, holding out my arms to help her up.
“Let’s go get you some fries.”
A moan that was almost indecent slipped from her sweet lips. “I swear, a man has never said anything sexier!” At my laugh, she stilled, her eyes going wide. “I should have kept that thought to myself, shouldn’t I?”
“No, I want to know what you”re thinking. How will I know you need fries if you don”t tell me?” I stayed a step behind her as she slowly made her way out the door. Gilbert trotted dutifully at my side.
While we weren’t in the safest of areas, it wasn”t too terrible, especially when walking in pairs. It was actually kind of beautiful, a lot of old 1940s buildings and condos. Many new buildings were being built, including a community center and a pool. Hopefully, the area would vastly improve within the next ten years. That was why I saw the apartment project as such a good bet. It was an investment of my time, money, and effort. With any luck, I would sell the apartment at a good profit, and I could put that money into looking after my future family.
Into looking after Daisy.
“So, what have you been up to today?” I gestured to her stomach as we walked. “Other than growing the little one.”
“Not much. I did a little bit of admin work, and I tried to make my fries, but again, I was sadly disappointed. I don”t know how I”m going to go about making cookies for you next time. No one likes a soggy cookie.”
“Use my oven,” I said. The answer was so simple. Why would she need to use hers when I had a new oven in a recently renovated kitchen? The space was ideal for baking.
And, bonus, she would be closer to me, and I would be getting more cookies.
“I can”t keep imposing on you!” Daisy cried.
I hummed thoughtfully. “Well, why don’t you use my kitchen when you come over to my place during the day to look after Gilbert while I’m at practice? You”d actually be helping me that way.”
Daisy gave me a knowing grin. “I could just look after him at my place.”
“But he”s so used to my place now, it would be cruel to constantly move him around,” I insisted, unable to keep the grin off my face.
“Oh, yes, the dog who is currently peeing on a tree and hasn’t got two brain cells to rub together is definitely too fragile to be moved around.” She laughed, the sound music to my ears.
“Certainly.” I nodded sagely. My place had plenty of baking equipment, most of it only used for cooking because I was in no way a baker. I could easily stock the place with anything else she might need. It was really a win for me—having her baking at my place would mean even more delicious, chewy butter pecan cookies.
“I guess I can do that—if you really don’t mind,” she said.
“I insist.”
“Your whole place is going to smell like cookies,” she warned me.
“You say that like it’s a problem!”
The takeout place that offered the fancy fries was right next to the river, so it was a fairly beautiful walk. At one point, Daisy looked a touch wobbly, so my hand shot out instinctively and grabbed hers.
When she didn’t complain or pull her hand away, I took it as a good sign and kept her small, soft hand in mine as we walked toward our destination. My heart pounded erratically, even though it was such an innocent touch. Was she just as affected?
We didn’t say much, walking in an easy, companionable silence. None of the conversation or lapses felt forced or awkward. Her scent alone was enough to lull me into a relaxed, almost boneless, state.
I could tell I would get the best sleep of my life with her in my arms—I just needed to convince her that she needed a snuggle.
“I can smell them,” Daisy moaned as we got closer.
“Really?” I asked in surprise; we were still a few minutes away. Alphas and omegas had damn good senses of smell—it made sense, given how important scent was to our existence—but that was still an impressive distance.
“Pregnant, remember?” She laughed. “I’ve got the nose of a bloodhound.”
“What do I smell like? I probably stink of sweat from practice.” I frowned. If I smelled bad, I would need to rectify that immediately. She already had a sensitive stomach; the last thing I wanted to do was make it worse.
Even in the low evening lighting, I could see the blush spreading across her cheeks. “Not at all!” she rushed to say. “You smell...uh...good. You smell good,” she admitted, her face now bright pink. “Ah! Here we are!” she exclaimed, turning to look in the distance, tugging me along.
We weren’t there yet—it was still a good two-minute walk away—but now it was in sight, and I got the feeling that Daisy was happy for the diversion.
I was too distracted with the overwhelming pride and joy I felt at the idea that she liked my scent—maybe a little too much.
She could huff my scent any day; I would be a willing participant. More than willing.
We had arrived at just the right time. The dinner rush had died down, and the late-night partiers had yet to make their appearance, so there weren’t many people in line.
“What sauce would you like? They toss the fries in a sauce of your choice,” I told her, leaning down, so I didn’t have to yell as we stood in line.
“The only acceptable answer is ketchup,” she said gleefully, her eyes never leaving the menu. “Though the peppercorn does intrigue me,” she admitted.
“You get the ketchup, and I’ll get the peppercorn. That way, you can have both.”
“Why do you keep suggesting such amazing things?” she groaned.
I shrugged. “I’m just awesome like that.”
“You won’t hear me disagreeing.”
She thought I was awesome. Daisy had been nothing but sweet and complimenting since she had crashed into my life. My ego was in serious danger of exploding with how big it was getting.
Sure, I was an NHL-level hockey player, highly sought after by women, but Daisy’s admiration just hit differently.
“Go sit down.” I gestured to the small picnic table in my line of sight. “I’ll order.”
Daisy nodded, waddling over to the table and plopping down. She was only a few feet away, so I could keep her firmly in sight.
There was no way in hell I was going to have my omega where I couldn’t see her late at night.
My omega?
I was losing it. Daisy wasn’t my anything, no matter how much I wanted her to be.
Maybe it was time for me to make my intentions clearer...but I didn’t want to risk spooking her. If I came on too hard, too fast, she would run for the hills.
The fries didn’t take long, and within minutes I had two large cones of sauce-coated fries in hand and was heading towards the beautiful omega who was sitting, petting my dog.
“Thank you.” She beamed at me as she took the cone of ketchup-covered fries off me. She didn’t hesitate, diving right in, letting out a pornographic moan at the first bite. “I’ve been dreaming about this!” She groaned, eyes filling with tears.
Tears?
“Are you crying?” I asked, panicked.
How had I made her cry? How did I fix it? I couldn’t let her be upset.
“They’re good tears,” she insisted around a mouthful of fries. “Happy. These taste so good!”
“Ah.” I smiled, nodding. Pregnancy hormones made omegas a touch emotional at times.
Apparently, I was falling for an omega with a deep, unconditional love of fries.
I had won the jackpot.
Wiping at her eyes, she continued munching on her food, the tears eventually evaporating as I took a few bites of my own.
“Thank you for this...and for being so cool with me being a mess,” she said.
“But you’re an adorable mess. It makes all the difference,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone, making her giggle.
“I suppose it does.” She nodded sagely, returning to her fries. With her next bite, she gave a little hum of happiness, wiggling in her seat in the little happy dance I had grown accustomed to seeing when she was happily enjoying food.
Taking out my phone, I snapped a photo of Gilbert looking longingly at the beaming omega, begging for food.
They looked perfect together.