Chapter 9

Nine

Pregnant.

He was pregnant.

He wasn't stupid. He'd had heat sex. Morning sickness. Nothing tasted great. He was tired and a little weepy, and sure?—

Charlie had suspected for a week or two. Maybe three or possibly as long as five, but now?

He stared at the pregnancy test in his hand, the two pink lines screaming the truth.

Whoa.

He bit his lower lip. He had no idea what to do. Panicky feelings tried to push in, and he shoved them down. Okay. Okay, he maybe needed some advice. Should he call Hank? Maybe Bridget.

Bridget was an alpha, though. She might not understand. Hank's friend Andrew had raised a baby alone. Hank had gone through this.

Sort of.

He wanted to talk to Kaleb, but…

Should he?

He finally called Hank. Because really, he trusted Hank so much not to steer him wrong.

"Hey, man! Are you wanting a ride to the house? I'm heading up this afternoon to do a podcast with Stone. You can come with."

"I—Maybe? I don't know. I sort of needed to talk to you." A little bit. He stared at the test on the counter.

"Okay." Hank paused. "You sound upset. Do you need me to come over?"

"Um. Do you have time?" He felt like such a wienie.

"I do. Give me…twenty. I'll be there."

"Okay." He smiled faintly. Twenty meant Hank was stopping for comfort pastry.

Heavens knew he needed comfort pastry like whoa.

He touched his belly, staring at the flatness of it. Pregnant. It seemed hard to believe, and just a few short years ago, he would have scoffed at the idea.

He hadn't been interested in having babies until after his career was over, but?—

That wasn't a thing.

Though, he guessed that career was over. That made him laugh humorlessly.

The knock came on the door at almost exactly twenty minutes after he called Hank, and he went to open it, chewing his lower lip.

"You look freaked out. What's up? Who do I need to kill?" Hank bustled in with his box of pastries.

"Hank." He tried for a grin. "Hi. What did you bring?"

"Crullers for me, apple fritters for you. And a couple of turnovers, because they smelled so good." Hank set the box down, then came to hug him. "Tell me all."

He held onto Hank for a second, then sat. "I'm pregnant."

"Oh?" Then Hank's eyebrows went up. "Oh-h. Um. Kaleb?"

"Who else?" God.

"Sorry. I just needed to make sure I had all the pieces." Hank chuckled. "Can I make tea? I feel like we need tea."

"Of course. There's Irish breakfast, mint, hibiscus, and gunpowder." He headed over to start the kettle.

"I'll take Irish with the pastry." Hank sat at his little dinette. "So, how do you feel about this?"

"Scared. Stupid. Scared." His cheeks were on fire.

"Well, we'll work this out. If I've found out anything about Secret Springs, it's that we take care of people. You. Kaleb. Whatever combination there is."

"I don't want him to think I'm a slut, Hank."

"Charlie." Hank grabbed him and sat him down, then got up to make tea. "I have seen him around you. If he thought you were a slut, or if this was just about sex, he would have moved on to another omega or maybe two or three by now. He's into you."

"He is. He is? You think so?" God, he wanted to think so.

"I do. I was the one who watched all my friends pair off before I met Elliot, remember? I know when someone is serious about someone else." Hank waited on the kettle, leaning on the kitchen counter. "So you need to tell him. I mean, you're into him, yes?"

"Yes, but I don't want him to think I did this on purpose…"

"Ah. Well, you didn't, right? So you tell him that."

"You make it sound so easy."

Hank snorted. "Relationships never seem to be that, huh?"

"No. No, and I haven't had any that were as important as this one." He opened his eyes wide. He did not cry.

"Well, then you need to talk to him." Hank poured the tea, then brought him a mug and a fritter. "I mean, I think he's a good guy. Stone likes him too."

"He's amazing. He is absolutely…amazing." And Charlie thought that maybe he loved Kaleb. Kaleb was…strong but sweet. It was like the perfect combination. And he loved his life. Fixing up the house. His dogs. Silly movies. Charlie adored him.

"See? He won't be ugly."

"What if he's disappointed?" he whispered.

"No. I can't see it." Hank gave him a firm head shake. "He's going to be thrilled."

"Oh, Hank. I'm just scared."

"Do you want me to be there when you tell him?"

Oh, God. Did he? Sure. Was that fair? No.

"No. No, he won't hurt me. I know him. He might break my heart, but he won't hurt me."

"Okay. Well, I'm here if you want to talk it out." Hank munched his pastry. "Mmm. Nice and fresh."

"What do I do if he doesn't want to be a father? What do I do? Will Lukas let me stay here?"

"Of course he will. Lukas has never kicked anyone out. They've always left on their own." Hank pushed his fritter toward him. "You need to eat."

"I'm scared I'll puke."

"If you do, I won't tell, fair?"

He smiled, because Hank was his good friend, and the man was right. He knew that if he puked, he puked. Hank had been there. He knew what it was like, right?

"So are you and Elliot going to shoot for more kids?" he asked.

"I don't think so. Antonia is perfect—she loves to travel, she loves history and reading and going. The three of us are going to be on the road a lot. I feel like—and so does Elliot—that our family is complete."

"That's so cool." And rare for his group of friends, so he wondered if Hank still felt like the odd man out, or if he loved it. Charlie thought about a lot of things he would never ask.

It didn't really matter either, when it came right down to it. He didn't need to alienate anyone.

"I have so many nieces and nephews and godkids," Hank said. "It's a full life."

"You're obviously happy. Antonia and Elliot adore you."

"I know." Hank looked a little misty all of a sudden. "It was worth all the waiting."

"I hope that Kaleb thinks the same thing about me." He took a bite of the fritter, and it was good, fresh.

And it didn't make his stomach roll.

"I should tell him tonight."

"You should. Then you can start to make a plan. Is he coming here to spend the night?"

Charlie nodded. "He's been staying here. It's easier."

"I bet." Hank shook his head. "It seems like everything that can go wrong up there has."

Charlie tilted his head. "Do you believe the house is cursed? That Augustus murdered Ezekiel?"

"I have no idea. There's no proof he did, but there's no proof he didn't either." Hank shrugged and sighed. "I mean, renovations are notorious for that sort of activity."

"True. I just can't help but think of that house in California."

"The Winchester Mystery house? Well, Dewhurst isn't that big or weird, but it's pretty cool. Did you want to go up with me and Stone?"

"I'd like to, yes." He nodded. He was no coward.

"Perfect. We'll take the leftover pastry and some good coffee… Can you take coffee right now? I had issues." Hank was so good at organizing things.

"Mine is the thought of red meat. I can't even, you know?" Blorp.

"Ah. Well, that's pretty easy." Hank patted his hand. "Do you feel a little better?"

"Still scared, but I'm glad to know you're my friend."

Hank's face creased with a fond sort of sympathy. "Always. I know how it feels to think you're alone." His eyes widened. "I mean, Saul did it for so long! And I'm not your only friend, okay? Everyone cares very much about you."

"I hope so. I'm trying to be a part of this place. A good part."

"You are." Hank nodded, so earnest. "I adore you."

"Thank you." He took another hug. "I'm pregnant, Hank. I'm going to have a baby."

"You are!" Hank squeezed.

He leaned in and rested, and then he girded his pregnant loins. He had to talk to Kaleb.