Page 22 of Such a Brave Omega

I shook my head. While there was litigation going on, I couldn’t get into the details, but he knew how stressed I’d been. “It will, eventually. I just hope you don’t give up on me before it does.”

“Me?” He grinned and pulled his shirt over his head. “Heck no. I’d rather go out for a run with you than go anywhere else.”

“Even the little room? I feel so bad about promising you a fun evening of play and then letting you down night after night.”

“No. It’s all right. I am happier here with you anyway.”

I eyed him. “You were so excited about playing when we visited. What’s changed?”

“Oh, nothing.” He stretched and yawned in the saddest example of looking casual I’d ever seen. “No big deal. Ready to run?” His pants dropped to the floor, and he stepped out of them. “Let’s get outside before we shift. Remember, last time? We didn’t do that, and there was nobody with opposable thumbs to open the door.”

I chuckled, remembering how we’d stood there on all fours like dogs waiting for their owners to let them out. “That was pretty silly. Seriously, though, before we go. Don’t you want to go to the club?”

“I’m getting cold standing here naked,” he bit out in a very un-Tate-like way. “Are we going or not?”

“Going, I guess.” I opened the door, waited for him to pass, and followed, closing it behind me. “We need a retinal scan that recognizes our wolves for going in and out.”

“Good idea.” He shifted and darted away down the walk. I had enough property for a good run, or we could head out into the BLM land behind the house—one of the reasons I’d bought it.

Tate’s wolf was as handsome as his human, and I let him get some distance ahead of me before shifting myself to launch into our favorite game of chase. But I couldn’t get my head completely around the fun when I was trying to figure out why all of a sudden, he didn’t want to go to the club.

Just a few days ago, he’d been laying out outfits and trying to decide what he’d wear. Talking about Mommy Selena and how the littles could earn gold stars if they behaved well or were especially good about not spilling glitter all over the place. He even wanted to bake brownies to bring in to share.

And now?

Completely lost interest?

My suspicions were all over the place. But one kept swirling back. Was his ex in the picture again? He wouldn’t be the first omega to go back to someone he had no business being with. But he was marked. He was mine. And he seemed happy about that. So how?

I lost sight of Tate’s wolf and silently cursed. He wouldn’t be going back to the man who nearly cost him his life. Putting on a burst of speed, I caught up with him and bowled him over down a gentle slope. A nip at his neck told him who was alpha. As if he didn’t know.

He was just acting weird because he didn’t want me to feel pressured to come home and take him out. That was the sweet omega I knew.

Chapter Twenty

Tate

“You’ve hardly touched your dinner. I thought those mini burgers and tots were a favorite meal of yours.”

Bronson was right. The tiny Hawaiian buns were soft and sweet. He cooked the burgers perfectly and there was none of that pickle debauchery. He even bought me tots and happy face fries. Everything was perfect.

Everything but my stomach. I’d been nauseous since taking the test earlier that day, and now my anxiety was a vise grip around my entire body.

“Tate?” He pushed some of his alpha power into his voice making me snap back to reality.

“It is my favorite meal,” I confirmed.

“Then what’s going on?” Instant calm washed over me as he slid his hand over mine, giving me warm comfort. “Talk to me. We can’t work together on a problem if I don’t know what the problem is.”

When he came home from work, he changed into a pair of gray sweatpants and padded barefoot on the wood floors. I loved how he relaxed here.

In my heart, I knew I could tell him anything and he wouldn’t get angry, but it was hard to get over those old patterns of thought. Healing took work.

“There’s something that’s bothering me. No, it’s not bothering me. I’m afraid and afraid you will be upset at the outcome, and I’m not…”

Bronson tossed the tot he was holding, onto his plate and came around the bar to pick me up. He worked in an office and in a club, but I’d found he was incredibly strong. He carried me to the couch and moved me to straddle his lap, facing him.Strong hands found my hips and gripped them. “Are you afraid of me, Tate?”

“No.” I shook my head. “I’m afraid of what you’ll think of me.”