25. Niall Gets Suspicious

25

NIALL GETS SUSPICIOUS

The thing about being an author was that your imagination never stopped running.

Two weeks later, Jag was still completely patient with Niall’s useless hands. He still only smelled like Niall. He wasn’t looking at his phone all the time, and he didn’t seem to be flirting with another omega.

Niall had to make up stories to explain what Jag was hiding.

Maybe Jag was assembling an army of ninjas so they could all rip off his roof at the same time.

Maybe he was building an underground bunker and he’d discovered an oil reservoir, and they had to move so they could pump out the oil and get rich.

Maybe... aliens. And the FBI was onto Jag, and Jag had to rehome his new alien friends but keep them a secret from Niall, to protect him.

“Sweetheart,” Jag said, interrupting Niall’s spiraling imagination. “C’mon, let’s go in and see the doctor.”

Niall’s stomach clenched. He still didn’t like doctors, even though the one he’d been seeing for his broken hands hadn’t hurt him.

Jag understood. He wrapped his arm around Niall’s shoulders and stepped with him into the doctor’s office, pulling up a chair so they could sit together while the doctor discussed Niall’s X-ray results.

“We’ll be taking your casts off,” the doctor said with a smile.

Niall’s heart leaped. Jag gave him a proud grin, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

The actual cast removal made him regret everything.

Niall had almost forgotten just how terrible his hands looked. They’d been shriveled and curled up before, but now there was a whitish layer of stuff all over them. And the smell.

“Don’t look,” he said too late.

Jag just squeezed his shoulder. “It’s fine, sweetheart.”

“They look disgusting!”

“We’ll get them clean again.”

Niall’s hands felt so much lighter without the weight of the casts, and the cool air chilled his skin. He couldn’t stop wincing, though. He didn’t want anyone looking at his hands.

Jag held him as the nurse gently washed his hands and patted them dry. The washing didn’t remove all the dead skin; Niall hadn’t thought his hands could look worse than they did before.

When they were done, Jag brought him back to the truck and buckled him in. “What would you like to eat?”

“Steak in yogurt with some dill cheese. And... and raw onions mashed with garlic.”

Jag raised an eyebrow. “That’s a new combination.”

“I want it,” Niall said.

“Alright. We’ll have to stop by the store. We don’t have most of those ingredients.”

“You really don’t mind my hands?” Niall asked in a small voice.

Jag reached over, covering them gently with his own. He nested his thumbs in the hollow of Niall’s palms and stroked him lightly. Just as accepting as he’d been with Niall’s dentures.

“I don’t mind them,” Jag said warmly. “They’re a part of you.”

Niall’s throat tightened. “Oh.”

Jag drove them to Tinto’s. According to Emmy, Tinto’s had the best dumpsters for dumpster diving, although Niall wasn’t keen on that—especially because he couldn’t climb any fences.

Jag helped to put Niall’s mittens on his hands. Then they were in the store, Niall tucked close to Jag’s side, Jag pushing their shopping cart.

It felt amazing to walk around in public with his alpha. Amazing to have Jag hold him close, using his other hand to grab things off the shelves so he wouldn’t have to release Niall at all.

Niall thought he saw Wineheart and her older husband browsing the ice cream aisle.

One by one, the ingredients for Niall’s craving went into the cart. Along with them, Jag added things Niall enjoyed, such as fresh nectarines, a watermelon, mushrooms for homemade mushroom soup, and the airiest, crispiest chips.

Jag paused, suddenly. Niall almost walked into the cart. He turned to see what Jag had been so distracted by—

It was a display of baby clothes in one corner of the store.

Niall looked up; their gazes locked. They didn’t even have to talk about it. As one, they turned toward the display, Jag’s arm tightening around Niall.

Up close, Niall realized that the display was mainly made up of newborn and toddler clothes, along with some soft-looking blankets and adorable stuffed toys.

“They made a great decision, putting this here,” Jag murmured as he picked up a onesie that was printed all over with pink rabbits. “This one feels nice.”

He ran it against the inside of Niall’s forearm to let him feel its softness, before showing Niall all its inner seams.

“Does it feel comfortable?” Niall asked.

“Yeah. Feels soft.” Jag ran the seams against Niall’s arm, too.

“How many do we need?”

“A few, at least.”

“Are we buying them all here?”

“Probably not.” Jag grinned and touched Niall’s belly. “I think we’ll pass by more displays before then.”

“Just two for now,” Niall decided.

“And a blanket?”

Niall nodded, his heart full when Jag met his gaze and leaned in to kiss him softly on the lips.

They left the store with a bag of food, and a bag of the most adorable baby clothes. Niall couldn’t help the skip in his step.

Jag glanced over, a smile playing on his lips. “Got some of your energy back, huh?”

“Baby,” Niall said as an explanation, rubbing his wrist over his belly. Maybe it was just him, but he thought he was starting to get a belly bump.

Jag’s smile grew.

They were loading their bags into the truck’s cargo bed when Jag asked, “Do you think you’re ready to borrow a baby from our brothers?”

Niall sucked in a slow breath. He rubbed his barely-a-bump belly. “I don’t know if I’ll forget that I’ve fed the baby. Remember how you said I’d already written a dinner scene earlier in the book? And I didn’t even remember doing that. This memory loss thing sucks.”

Niall’s shoulders slumped. It was a good thing Jag was reading along with his progress on the book—he’d caught the mistakes, and Niall had been horrified at his lapses in memory.

“We might have to set up cameras and keep a logbook for feedings,” Jag said.

Niall nodded and leaned into Jag. “I’ll probably be writing less when the baby comes along,” he said with a frown. “Will I need a second job to help pay for everything?”

Jag was opening his mouth to answer when his phone rang. He tensed ever so slightly and, very carefully, pulled his phone halfway out of his pocket.

Out of Niall’s sight.

Jag drew a slow breath. He ushered Niall to the truck’s passenger door, lifting him onto the seat without waiting for him to climb on. “Be right back.”

Jag shut the door on Niall and strode away, answering his phone out of earshot.

Through the entire call, he looked around the parking lot shrewdly, glancing at Niall only a couple of times. He wasn’t even speaking much, just listening to whoever was on the other end of the line.

Was someone threatening Jag?

Niall stopped breathing. He looked around the grocery store parking lot, too, but couldn’t spot any threat.

By the time Jag returned, Niall had worked himself into an anxious ball of worry. Had someone from jail sought Jag out for revenge? Because Jag was strong and he’d won several fights in there?

“Are you in danger?” Niall blurted.

Jag blinked. “I hope not.”

“That doesn’t tell me anything,” Niall growled in frustration. “Tell me!”

At that, Jag’s stony facade melted into regret. “It’s for your own good, sweetheart. Do you trust me?”

Niall sighed. “Yes. I just hate not knowing.”

“There are several things worse than not knowing,” Jag murmured. He leaned over the center console and brushed his fingers through Niall’s hair, pulling him close to nuzzle his cheek. “Bear with me for just a while longer, alright? I promise to keep you safe.”

“Fine,” Niall mumbled.

He had a weird feeling that things were about to get worse.