“You’re giving our pack a future Alpha and us a child.” Jobe nuzzled Wesley’s neck. “That’s worth a lifetime of early wake-up calls.”
“I guess it is.” Wesley let out a heavy breath. “I’m pregnant. Wow. Who would have seen that coming?”
Suspecting that Wesley’s current state of contentedness could flip into frustration or anger with very little provocation, Jobe decided against pointing out that he had seen it coming since childhood.
“I’m so mad at you!” Wesley yelled the moment Jobe opened their front door and stepped into the house. “You may as well turn around and find somewhere else to sleep tonight.”
Forcing himself not to smile, Jobe shut the door and walked toward the sound of his mate’s voice. Wesley’s emotions had been a roller coaster throughout his pregnancy, something he found frustrating and embarrassing and Jobe found charming and arousing. But Jobe knew better than to say that when they were on a downward slide portion of the ride.
“Did you think I wouldn’t find out?” Wesley yelled when Jobe stepped into the living room. He was holding onto the couch arm with one hand and pushing against the cushion with the other.
“I’m the one who told Kevin to come over and update you.” Jobe stepped over to his mate and held his hands out. “Do you need help getting up?” The glare Wesley gave him promised death or dismemberment, so he swiftly changed tracks. “How about some tea?”
“I don’t want tea! I want to know what on earth compelled you to give away Ricky’s location after we went through all the trouble to hide him from that asshole.”
With a sigh, Jobe sat on the sofa. Wesley immediately scooted as far from him as the space would allow, which was only a couple of inches. It was cute, really, but he didn’t like seeing his mate upset.
“I told that Alpha where Ricky is because he’s Ricky’s mate.”
“That piece of shit knocked up a teenager and abandoned him. No Alpha worthy of the title would do that to a stranger, let alone his mate.”
“You’re right. Eighteen strikes me as way too young to be pregnant, and from what Brian told us, Morgan Peters treated Ricky terribly. I’m the one who called in the favor and helped him get to Blue Mountain, remember?”
Wesley blinked in confusion, apparently disarmed by Jobe’s agreement. “You helped him hide and then you gave away his location to the guy he was hiding from. Tell me how that makes sense.”
“Well—” Jobe sucked in a deep breath. “I talked to him and he seemed genuinely concerned about Ricky, almost frantic, and if I didn’t tell him where Ricky is, he wouldn’t have any chance of finding him.”
“That’s the point of hiding,” Wesley snapped. “Otherwise it would be called finding!”
That time Jobe couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “Come over here and let me hug you.”
Wesley didn’t stop shooting daggers at him with his eyes, but he did move a smidge closer. Taking that as permission, Jobe immediately closed the distance between them and wrapped his arm around Wesley’s shoulders.
“Do you still want me to leave for the night?” Jobe asked as he massaged Wesley’s nape.
“Yes. But don’t go anywhere.” Wesley lowered his voice. “I hate being apart from you.”
“Okay.”
“I still don’t know what you were thinking, and when Brian Berger finds out, he’ll go ballistic.”
Jobe put his free hand on Wesley’s distended belly and rubbed it. “I was thinking that Ricky doesn’t actually want his child to be born without his other father.”
Wesley grunted.
“I was also thinking that three Alphas live in Blue Mountain and at least two of them wouldn’t bat an eye at taking Morgan’s head off if he does anything to upset an Omega wolf.”
“I have heard that getting on the wrong side of the Grant family isn’t a good idea,” Wesley grudgingly admitted.
“See? And if Morgan Peters travels all the way to Blue Mountain and risks his life to see Ricky, what does that mean?”
“It means we may get lucky and Mitchell Grant will kill that asshole before he even has a chance to enter Blue Mountain territory.”
“That’s the romantic spirit I love to see.”
“My stomach looks like I swallowed a basketball, I can’t see my dick, and my bladder feels like it’s going to pop but I can’t get my fat body off this too-soft couch to go to the bathroom. Romance is no longer part of my vocabulary.”
Jobe threw his head back and laughed. “I’ll rescue you from the couch.” He stood, held onto both of Wesley’s hands, and pulled him up. “Go take care of your bladder and meet me in bed.”
“I’m not tired.”
“Neither am I,” Jobe said huskily. “You said something about needing help finding your dick, right?” He cupped Wesley’s package through his pants and gave it a squeeze. “I’m offering my assistance.”