Playing You (Omega's Luck #3) - Claire Cullen Page 0,62
know it might take years to even get pregnant, and then a whole nine months before the baby arrives…”
“We’ll have to be patient,” Brendan agreed.
Riley pouted at him. “I’m terrible at that.”
“Practice makes perfect. Anyway…”
He was distracted from whatever he was going to say by the loud rumble of Riley’s stomach. The omega flushed.
“Breakfast in bed?” Brendan suggested, already rolling over and reaching for the tablet on the bedside table.
“You read my mind.”
Within minutes, they’d ordered from the menu. It was probably more food than they could get through between the two of them, but Brendan would rather have too much than too little.
When the knock came on the door, he got up to answer it, leaving Riley to lounge in bed. When he returned, they spread everything out on the blankets, setting the hot drinks on the bedside table. Brendan thought he had an appetite, but it was nothing compared to Riley’s hunger. The omega got through almost twice as much as Brendan. He hadn’t seen Riley with an appetite that big since…
“You know, we might not have to worry about being patient after all.”
Riley chewed and swallowed a mouthful of pancake.
“Why’s that?”
“Just a suspicion I have,” he said, eying the heaped plate of food Riley was making his way through. The omega followed his gaze, his eyes widening.
“Oh.”
“You have excellent timing. It’ll be a honeymoon to remember.”
“How long is the flight?”
Brendan leaned over and kissed the worry from Riley’s face. “We’ll be at the villa by lunchtime. Don’t stress.”
Riley shivered, but he could tell from the omega’s face that it was excitement and not fear. “I can’t wait.”
“Me neither. Finish your breakfast. I’ll get us packed up for the airport.”
But Riley wasn’t ready to let go of him yet, drawing Brendan in for a long kiss. His arms were wrapped around Brendan’s back, their chests pressed together.
“I never want to let you go,” Riley whispered.
“You won’t ever have to,” he promised.
Chapter Thirty-Two
Returning to normal life after their honeymoon had been hard, but Brendan knew it was something they had to do. Not just because of their responsibilities, but because even honeymoons got stale eventually. They settled into the house quicker than he’d expected. Riley especially took to living in the neighborhood like a duck to water, what with Zac and Harper not three minutes away.
Having the freedom to spend every evening together was great, and Brendan had taken full advantage of that for the first month. After that, Riley insisted that he go back to doing normal guy things, like going out with friends, watching sports, and having the occasional spouse-free night. Which was why he was coming home at almost eleven p.m. on a weeknight, even though they had a client meeting at nine the next morning.
“Honey, I’m home,” he called softly as he stepped inside.
There were lights on downstairs, so he knew Riley was still up, but there was no answer to his call. Maybe he’d fallen asleep on the couch? It wouldn’t be the first time. Riley claimed the couch was the most comfortable place in the house, but Brendan suspected the omega was just tired. Between work, home, and friends, they led a busy life.
The living room was dark though, the couch empty. There was light coming from the kitchen, so he moved that way.
“Riley? You still up?”
The first thing he noticed was the fridge door open, spilling light into the room. It set the hairs on the back of his neck on end as he moved slowly through the room toward it.
“Riley?” he called again as he rounded the breakfast counter.
His heart stopped. Riley lay on the floor, broken glass scattered in a puddle of liquid on the ground next to him.
He rushed to Riley’s side and dropped to his knees. Was he breathing? Did he have a pulse?
As he pressed his fingers against Riley’s neck, he bent his head to the omega’s mouth. He felt warm breath against his skin as a heartbeat pulsed against his fingertips. Riley was alive.
“Riley? Sweetheart?” He tapped his cheek gently. “Wake up for me, Riley.”
The omega’s eyes fluttered open. “Brendan? Did I sleep in?”
Almost too relieved to speak, it took a moment to find his voice.
“It’s still night, Riley. You’re in the kitchen, on the floor. Do you remember what happened?”
Riley gave another slow blink, regarding him with confusion. “Kitchen?” He turned his head to the side. “Do you smell oranges?”
“Some juice spilled,” Brendan told him, relieved that he seemed coherent, if a little confused. “Do