Chapter 21
FREY
Three months later
Jesse and Oliver were interviewing the new librarian, a sweet, soft-mannered young man with wire-framed glasses and a mild stutter. I’d already decided I liked him. Besides, Oliver was much better suited to make this decision, so I let my mind drift.
As a result, I stared at Oliver’s belly for half an hour straight.
I’d ordered my omega a new camisole, turquoise with golden lace, and it should arrive in a few days.
I couldn’t wait to give it to him. It should cup his growing pecs and part over his pregnant belly.
The matching, barely there panties were assless.
We didn’t purchase any other lingerie, only the pieces that allowed me easy access.
It had become a thing, and we both liked it, so why change a winning concept?
“The position is a hybrid between a teaching assistant and a librarian,” Oliver said.
His foot nudged me under the table, bringing me back to the present.
“Our school is tiny, and the model relies on online courses with adult supervision in the room. We’ll try fifty-fifty and reevaluate after one semester. Would that work for you?”
“Yes. It s-sounds good.”
“Wonderful.”
“The ad s-said you could… help me find an apartment.”
“Oh, yes. We can offer you a one-bedroom above the post office. Um, library. It’s modest but close to the school.”
“P-post office?”
“Sorry. The library used to be a post office. We still call it that sometimes.”
The guy smiled. “I… get it.”
“We can find you a cottage if you prefer, but that might take a few months.”
“That’s okay. An apartment would be great.”
“I can show it to you right after the interview,” Oliver said. He was starting to seem excited, and I was right there with him. Martin Beckett was exactly the kind of guy we’d been looking for.
“We need to talk, of course,” Jesse butted in. Was he going to play hard to get? We needed the guy, not the other way around. Beauville wasn’t crawling with librarians.
“The job is yours if you want it, Martin,” I said.
Jesse threw me a look, but Oliver nodded.
Our new librarian smiled timidly, smoothing a hand down his cheap tie. “That’s g-great. I’d love to work here.”
Oliver left with Martin to show him the apartment since it was only a few steps away from the town hall.
Jesse went to make himself a cup of coffee, but when Oliver returned, he joined us in my office.
“I get why you like him,” he began. “The stutter, though. A teacher shouldn’t have a speech impediment.”
Of course, he went there. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes. “He’s a librarian, not a teacher,” I said, “and kind enough to help us out as a teaching assistant. Besides, he could express himself just fine. I don’t see a problem.”
“A teacher with a speech impediment or even a disability could be a fantastic role model for the kids,” Oliver stated, his tone sharp. “He’ll show them resilience, inclusivity, and self-advocacy.”
Jesse let out a drawn-out sigh. “Well, it’s your decision, Frey.”
Oliver’s jaw ticked.
“Oliver has been driving this project,” I said, and turned to my treasurer. “What do you think?”
“I think he’s perfect.”
“Then he’s hired. Finalize the papers, and we’ll have him sign them this afternoon.”
Soon after, Jesse left, and Oliver closed the door behind him. He looked at the ceiling, his hands on his hips. The position made his stomach protrude. Sweet mercies, it looked so sexy. He was only seventeen weeks pregnant but looked at least five months along. His belly grew fast.
“Are you listening to me?” he asked.
“I’m sorry. Sorry.”
“You were staring at my belly again, Mr. Mayor.”
“I’m sorry, I can’t help it. You’re so beautiful.”
Oliver blew out a breath. “I can’t be mad at you. I’ll even allow you to kiss my stomach and come on it because you were on my side with Jesse.”
“I’m always on your side,” I said.
Oliver raised an eyebrow. “As long as you agree with me.”
“Most of the time, I do.”
His lips twitched. “Anyway. Martin Beckett is hired, thank heavens, and let’s make sure he stays. I’ll invite him to the pub with us. We need him to make friends and like it here.”
“You mean keep him away from Jesse, and probably Monty.”
Grinning, Oliver perched himself on the edge of my desk. “Monty would be nice to him. Worst case, he’d hit on him.”
“That’s what I mean. Poor guy didn’t look like he’d handle a bear shifter flirting with him.”
“You never know. Sometimes, it’s the quiet ones.” He winked and slid off my desk. “I have work to do. See you at four? Let’s hope Martin won’t change his mind by then.”
“Let’s hope.”
Martin Beckett signed the contract, and we had our librarian.
I felt like celebrating because Oliver had invested so much into the hybrid school project, but I would have to wait.
Oliver had plans with his dad, and at five, Chickie picked him up.
Since Oliver wanted to finish one last email, my friend wandered into my office.
Immediately, I shoved a piece of paper toward him. “Right on time. I got another one for you, detective.”
He leaned over my desk and glowered at the sheet of paper.
It bugged our sheriff to no end that we’d never figured out who wrote those complaints.
Even after the fiber optic installation was finished, the letters kept coming, printed on the same printer and written in the same style, but signed with either ‘concerned citizen’ or random names.
“What is our troll moaning about now?” Chickie asked.
“The construction up at Laurel’s. He claims he can see the strong work lights from his bedroom window, and it keeps him up at night. It appears that aliens have landed in the forest, he writes.”
Chickie snatched up the letter, his eyes glinting. “That might be a clue. I’m taking this.”
“Be my guest.”
He folded the letter and stuffed it into his back pocket.
“I’m going to steal your mate for a few hours,” he said. “You’ve had him the whole day.”
“Barely. We’ve been working. But I’m glad he’s going with you. He’s been looking forward to it.”
Chickie gave me one of his rare, tender smiles. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. He loves running with you in fur.”
“That’s because he gets a kick out of being faster than any of us.”
“That too.”
“I’m… catching up on lost time, you know,” Chickie said, growing serious. “And once the baby comes, Ollie won’t have time to be traipsing around the mountains with me.”
“Why not? Maybe I’ll want quality alone time with my son.”
He shook his head, and the creases on his forehead deepened as he rolled his hat in his hands. “How did we get here, Frey? I would never have guessed.”
I sighed. “I’m not going to let you down, I swear. Oliver is my life.”
“I know. He’s never been this happy. And now he can even shift.” Chickie swallowed. “Thank you, Frey. You’re good for him.”
I couldn’t have gotten higher praise. Chickie wasn’t much of a hugger, and I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable, so I just nodded like a bobblehead.
“Thanks, man. Um…”
“Why so serious?” Oliver chirped as he danced into my office. He pecked me on the cheek and turned to Chickie. “I’m ready, Dad. Where are we going?”
“Up the Goat’s Horn if you want.”
“Really? Above the tree line?”
“Sure. It’s high time if we want to manage it before the first snow.”
Oliver’s face lit up. “Let’s go.”
And he was out the door. “I’ll be home for dinner!” he called from the hallway.
Chickie gave me a nod and followed after him.
The cruiser stopped in front of our house just before eight. Oliver hopped out with rosy cheeks and shining eyes. I met him on the doorstep and welcomed him with a kiss.
“It was so beautiful,” he said. “We could see all the way to Green Peaks.”
I plucked a stray dry leaf from his curls. “Hungry?”
“Starving. What are we having?”
“Chicken fajitas.”
“Sweet. You’re amazing. But tomorrow, it’s my turn to cook.”
“I don’t mind.”
I loved cooking for my pregnant mate and watching him devour everything I put in front of him. It was no different tonight. Oliver polished off his plate and patted his belly.
“I thought we’d fuck right after dinner, but I’m too full. Ten minutes?”
I snickered. “You’re presumptuous. What if I’m not in the mood?”
Oliver tilted his head to the side and sneaked his hand under his T-shirt. He stroked the curve under his belly button, eyeing me speculatively. “Aren’t you?”
“I might need some convincing,” I hedged.
My omega squinted at me. “You seem so strict and cold, Mr. Mayor. I wonder what it would take to break your self-control.”
“I do have a weakness for my sassy, tempting treasurer.”
“Do you, now? So if your sassy treasurer decided to seduce you…”
“I’d try to resist. At first.”
Licking his lips, Oliver smirked. He loved role-play, and I loved to indulge him.
“How about you wait for me in the living room, Mr. Mayor?”
Without another word, I went to settle on the sofa.
A few minutes later, Oliver emerged, wearing his most proper office outfit, but I could guess what he had on underneath. Assless lace panties.
The End