Chapter 11
TUCKER
My mate had always been insatiable in bed, but since he decided he wanted to get pregnant we’d been having more sex than ever.
I thought it was probably not the right thing to say to an arctic hare shifter, but we’d been fucking like bunnies since the morning he told me he wanted to expand our family.
Not that I was complaining. Because I wasn’t. Not at all. I loved Misha, and I loved that he’d let me inside him, body and soul. I loved everything about him, and I wanted to give him the sun, the moon, and every single one of the stars.
But I was starting to get nervous.
I’d done some research about arctic hare shifters when Misha and I had first mated because I wanted to understand his culture and make sure I took care of him the way he deserved to be taken care of.
I’d learned that like all the rabbit and hare shifter species, arctic hares could get pregnant anytime with seemingly minimal effort.
Misha had confirmed as much when he’d reassured me that he was on birth control so I wouldn’t have to worry about getting him pregnant.
The whole birth control thing was really strange to me because porcupine omegas were known for their short heats and relative difficulty getting pregnant.
I had three siblings—two older brothers and an older sister—which was pretty rare for porcupine shifter families.
Our family was considered huge by porcupine shifter standards.
Most of the time there were only one, maybe two, children in a porcupine shifter family.
While I had three siblings, there were large gaps in our ages.
My oldest sibling was twelve years older than me; the next oldest was eight years older; and my sister was six years older.
The fact that she and my second oldest brother had been born only two years apart was practically unheard of.
It had been three weeks since we’d started trying to make babies, and though Misha hadn’t said anything, I could tell he was confused and sad that he wasn’t pregnant yet.
He’d even set up an appointment with Dr. Abernathy to discuss it, and he’d contacted Dr. Voda, a shifter OBGYN friend of his, to consult.
They had both assured Misha that it took time for the birth control to fully leave his system and to give it time, but despite their reassurances, I knew my mate was getting impatient.
I also couldn’t help but think it was all my fault.
“Tucker!”
I looked up to see who had yelled my name to find Paige lounging against the doorframe, concern on her face. “You okay? I said your name, like, ten times.”
I yanked my glasses off my nose and ran a hand over my face, trying and failing to wipe away my worry. “Yeah. I’m fine.”
“Full of shit? Yes. Fine? I really don’t think so.” She uncrossed her intricately tattooed arms and stalked across the room, falling into the chair on the other side of my desk and crossing her legs. “So how about you tell me what’s going on with you?”
A sigh that sounded a little like a frustrated growl fell from my lips.
“We’re grown-ups, Tuck. We use our words.”
This time my sigh sounded like a sigh. “I’m worried about Misha.”
Her perfectly sculpted and pierced eyebrows flew toward her hairline, almost disappearing behind her magenta bangs. “Worried? Why? Is he sick?”
I shook my head. I didn’t really want to have a conversation about how I was failing my mate with someone who wasn’t Misha, but Paige was a porcupine shifter too.
She understood what it was like for us. Plus, she was one of my closest friends and had been for a long, long time.
We’d escaped the same country club for art school, and after our apprenticeships, when I’d told her I wanted to move to Key West, she said she was coming too.
“No, he’s not sick.”
“Then what’s the issue?” She crossed her arms and legs in a move that clearly meant she was daring me to evade her question again.
“He’s—we’re—trying to get pregnant.”
Her eyebrows disappeared again even as her ruby red lips spread into a wide excited smile.
“Holy shit, babe. That’s amazing.” Then she noticed my face, which I could tell was twisted into an unhappy pout.
A minute later the pieces fell into place, and the smile slid off her face. “It’s not going well?”
“Understatement. Arctic hare omegas are supposed to be able to get pregnant like that.” I snapped my fingers. “But nothing.”
Paige bit her lip. “How long have you been trying?”
“Three weeks.”
A line appeared between her brows as she frowned. “That’s not very long.”
I sighed again and put my glasses back on. “Yeah, for you and me that’s not long. For Misha, it’s forever. I can tell he’s sad he’s not pregnant yet, but he’s keeping it to himself.”
“Men. I swear, you never talk about the important things.” She shook her head. “Have you tried addressing his feelings first?”
“No.”
Paige rolled her eyes. “Which means you haven’t bothered to tell him about how hard it is for shifters like us to have babies.”
“No.”
“You’re an idiot.”
She was probably right.
“You guys need to talk.”
“I know, but I feel like I’m failing him. It’s gotta be my fault, right?”
“Oh, honey.” Paige leaned forward, reached across my desk, and grabbed my hand.
“It’s not your fault any more than it is that you were born a porcupine shifter.
But not talking to Misha and telling him that it might take you guys a little longer to get to the finish line than he’s expecting?
Yeah, that’s one hundred percent your fault. ”
“Thanks, Paige.”
She gave my hand a squeeze, then let go. “If I don’t tell you when to get your head out of your ass, who will?”
“I know it’s a job you take very seriously.”
“I really do.” The bells on the door jangled as someone came into the shop.
“You have an appointment?”
Paige looked at her watch. “Yeah, but not until four.” She started to stand. “I’ll go see who it is.”
But she didn’t have to. A second later, Misha appeared in the doorway holding a small pink bakery box. His cheeks were rosy, and he was smiling so wide I couldn’t help but smile back despite my worry that I was letting him down.
Paige subtly sniffed the air, then a strange look I couldn’t decipher crossed over her face. “I’m going to go since I think you guys need to talk.” She gave me a significant look before she stood and smiled at my mate, squeezing his arm as she passed.
Misha and I both watched her go, and when she shut the door, I took a deep breath.
Misha’s lavender, wildflower, and ripe berry scent filled my lungs, but there was something different there too.
A subtle complexity to his normal smell that reminded me of caramelized sugar.
I wondered what he’d been working on at the bakery and said a silent prayer that whatever it was was in the pink box he still held.
My mate circled my desk, and I spun my chair so he could climb onto my lap. He settled himself against my chest, and I wrapped him in my arms, as I pressed kisses to the top of his head.
“I didn’t know you were planning on stopping by today.”
Misha looked up at me with his bright blue eyes. “Things at the bakery were pretty quiet. Nico couldn’t sleep so he came in early and had more than half the baking done before I even showed up.”
“Nice.” I pressed kiss to Misha’s soft lips, then, because I had an insatiable sweet tooth, and the burnt sugar scent was stronger with Misha in my lap, I asked, “What’s in the box? Something new?”
Mischief danced in my mate’s eyes, as he fought another smile. “You could say that.”
I held out my hand and made a gimme motion, but Misha hesitated, and I felt a flash of nervousness pulse through our mate bond. Why was he nervous about letting me try a new pastry from the bakery? I’d never had a single bad bite from Nico’s shop, and Misha was an amazing baker.
Finally, Misha passed me the box, and I shifted him in my arms so I could set it down on my desk and lift the lid.
My mouth watered thinking of the treat inside, but I was sorely disappointed to find one of Nico’s dinner rolls.
The rolls were as good as anything else he made, but they weren’t the sweet treat I’d been hoping for.
I lifted the bun out of the box and looked at Misha whose wide smile was back in full megawatt force.
“What’s with the roll?”
“There’s something else in the box.”
I put the roll in my mouth and went back to the box. At the bottom was one of the parchment sleeves Nico put plastic cutlery in. I lifted it out, wondering why I needed a fork to eat a dinner roll, and realized I wasn’t looking at cutlery at all.
Misha’s eyes got a little wet as I shook the blue and white stick into my hand, noticing the little plus sign in the results window.
The roll fell out of my mouth and landed somewhere on the floor as I stood with my mate in my arms and squeezed him tight.
“You’re pregnant? Oh, my god, Misha!”
“I am! Tucker, we’re going to be dads!” He tightened his arms around my neck and kissed me hard as we both cried the happiest of happy tears and joy flowed through our bond in an endless loop.
My worry evaporated with my mate in my arms, and joy flowed through our bond in an endless loop.
I pulled away from his sweet lips and looked down into his tear-streaked but ecstatic face.
“I’m so fucking happy, baby.” I glanced down at his flat stomach, already picturing him round with our babies, and squeezed him a little tighter.
“I am too, Tucker. I’m so happy.” He wrapped his arms around my neck and pressed his lips to mine, and it was a long, long time before we left my office.