I kept ahold of Dusty’s hand as we bid Marilyn goodbye and walked to the cafe. Dusty kept Josiah talking. He was good at that. Small talk. It was a skill that confounded me. But I was much more comfortable in silence than Dusty was.

I held the door open for my husband and then waited for Josiah, who had paused, as if he were waiting for me to enter first. I gestured him through. I may be an alpha’s man, but common courtesy was the same no matter who you were. At least, it should be.

“Okay, Josiah. Now’s your chance to woo me with your drink of choice.”

“How do you normally take your coffee?”

“It’s almost more milk and sugar than it is coffee,” I answered, and Dusty nudged me with his hip, though he shrugged.

“He’s not wrong.”

Josiah nodded. “Okay, we’re going to stretch you a little, and if you don’t like that, I know exactly what to make you. Worth, can you get me a sampler of the Costa Rican? And I’ll take my usual.”

“No problem, Jo.”

A tiny shot-glass worth of coffee appeared on the counter in moments.

“So tell me about this,” Dusty said as Josiah handed the glass to him.

“This is a drip brew Costa Rican bean from the Tarrazu region. It’s super smooth with a hint of chocolate. It’s the coffee I recommend to non-coffee drinkers.”

“Or those with plebeian tastes,” I teased.

Dusty sniffed the coffee. “It smells good.” He took a sip and tried not to make a face. “It tastes... like coffee.”

Josiah and I shared a laugh as the barista placed the next drink on the counter.

“Here, try this.” Josiah took the shot glass from Dusty, still half-full, and handed him the tall, dark, icy drink he’d ordered. I plucked the sampler from Josiah’s fingers and downed it. That was pretty damn good. I swished it over my tongue. It was definitely one of the smoothest coffees I’d ever tasted. And I could definitely taste that hint of chocolate Josiah had mentioned.

“This reminds me a bit of Jamaican Blue Mountain.”

Josiah nodded. “Blue Mountain and Tarrazu have almost no bitterness. But the Tarrazu is brighter, while the Blue Mountain is a bit creamier.”

“What is this?” Dusty asked, swirling the other glass around.

“That is cold brew with maple syrup. A light-roasted Ethiopian bean, if you care, but you probably don’t.” Josiah’s smile showed he wasn’t offended. That was one thing I liked about this chain of cafes, they stocked high quality product, but they weren’t snobs about it. Most of the time. There was the occasional snooty barista, but overall, it was my favorite cafe. It didn’t hurt that they were scattered all over the country.

Dusty took a hesitant sip. A little wary after the black coffee, perhaps. He blinked in surprise. “That’s not terrible.”

Josiah cracked up at that. “I think we can do better than not terrible. Worth, I think this man needs a honey vanilla latte.”

“I’ll take a cup of the Costa Rican, if you don’t mind.”

Josiah reached for his wallet, but I slid my card across the counter before he could pull it out.

“Please, my treat.”

He opened his mouth to protest, but Dusty laid a hand on his arm. “Let us treat you. You don’t want to ruin the first date.” Dusty winked, and Josiah reluctantly slid his wallet back in.

“Just for that, I’m making you buy me dessert, too.”

Dusty’s eyes widened. “You have desserts? Show me.”

“I was just kidding, you don’t really have to—”

He needn’t have bothered. Dusty and sweets were inseparable. Within moments, Dusty had added a slice of triple-chocolate cheesecake, a sweet roll, and a bowl of my favorite, tiramisu, to our order.

“Thank you. You really didn’t need to do that.”

“If I’m getting fat, everyone is getting fat,” Dusty declared. “Okay, where are we going to sit?”

Josiah led us to a quiet corner with a comfortable-looking loveseat and two cushioned chairs around a coffee table while the barista carried our drinks and deserts over on a tray.

“I’m sorry about your parents,” Dusty said. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about that, but, shit. That’s really hard. What were you studying in college?”

“It was hard. It is hard. But it’s life, you know? I’m grateful I’ve had Sam to take care of, to keep me moving. I was planning on studying nursing, but I’d just started taking my general courses, so it was still pretty all up in the air. It probably would have been nice to be able to finish school so I had a better job, but even then, I would have been away long days with twelve-hour shifts. Anyway, we can’t change the past.”

I admired Josiah’s pluck. He wasn’t flippant about his parents’ death, but he wasn’t whining about the hand life had dealt him, either.

“How is Sam liking Mapleville?” Dusty asked.

Josiah’s face lit up. “Oh, man. It’s like night and day compared to her old school. She’s dyslexic, not dumb, and they weren’t willing to do the work required to really help her learn, you know? But at Mapleville, they’re already trying a bunch of innovative shit on her. And they’re willing to work with her orally, when the other methods aren’t working super well. Every day, she comes home excited to tell me something new she learned instead of being frustrated that she’s dumber than the other kids. And we’ve stayed in touch with her old art teacher. She was a huge support when Sam’s old school was trying to push me to sign off on their diagnosis for her. When no one else believed me that Sam was smart, she did. It’s good that there are some good teachers in the public school system, but they get burnt out, fighting all the BS like what they tried to pull with Sam.”

As Josiah spoke about Sam, I couldn’t help but imagine Dusty speaking about our child in such a passionate tone a few years in the future. Listening to Josiah talking about parenting Sam was making it more real for me. I thought back to all the comments Carter had made about his new little boy, his insistence on showing me a new picture every time we saw each other at the gym. I couldn’t imagine being that wrapped up in a child. I’d been an only. Other than Dusty, I’d only really ever had to care about me. Seeing the love and devotion of both Josiah and Carter was making this dad thing so much more real.

It was terrifying.

This was happening. We were one step closer to actually becoming parents. Josiah might still say no. The previous candidate had. But we’d never gotten into this deep of a conversation with him. That meeting had been short and to the point. I knew that Dusty was already all-in. He was practically melting into his sugar drink concoction as Josiah shared story after story about his sister.

What if Josiah said yes? Was it really possible that we could have a baby within the year?

What if Josiah said no? Would Dusty be able to handle the disappointment?

No sense borrowing trouble.

“How old is your sister, again?”

Josiah finished his drink. “Seven. Her birthday is coming up in a couple months, and I’m pretty excited. This is the first time she’s really had friends she could invite to a party.”

Dusty glanced over at me and I knew just what he was thinking. Eight years old, and she only just now had friends? Heartbreaking. And Josiah’s sister sounded pretty decent for a child. Very intellectually minded, even with her difficulties. Probably preferred to have her nose stuck in a book than in dirt. That was the kind of kid I wanted.

Josiah answered a question from Dusty and his dimple flashed in his smile again. He was a good-looking kid. I’d never been attracted to an omega, but I could appreciate them aesthetically. The typical omega was softer and smaller than an alpha. I’d always been attracted to the sharp angles and edges and muscles of alphas. But for an omega, Josiah was objectively good-looking. His eyes were a rare shade of light green that couldn’t help but draw your attention, and his light-brown hair was scruffy and rumpled in that “I just rolled out of bed and look fabulous” kind of way.

I felt a twinge of jealousy, seeing how easily Dusty and Josiah bonded over talking about Sam. Dusty had always wanted to be a father. I’d never doubted he’d be a damn good one, and his interest in Josiah and Sam’s relationship just hammered home how much he craved that connection for himself. This was going to be good for Dusty. No. We were partners. We were going to be parents. This was going to be good for us both. It would stretch me, but it was important to Dusty, so it was important to me.

“Well, I guess the next step is to talk to Marilyn?” Josiah said.

I nodded and stood to shake Josiah’s hand. “It was a pleasure meeting with you, Josiah. Thanks for taking the extra time out of your day to chat in a more comfortable situation.”

Josiah blushed. “Oh, it wasn’t any trouble at all! Thanks for the coffee and dessert.”

Dusty took Josiah’s hand, hesitated, and then pulled him in for a big hug. “You’re doing a great job with your sister. And thank you for being so open with us.”

“Can we walk you to your car?” I asked.

Josiah shook his head. “No, I’ve got to run to talk to my boss, but thank you.”

What was the appropriate farewell? “Hope to see you soon” seemed like it was pressuring him to accept us. I settled on “Have a good day.”

Dusty was practically bouncing on the way to the car, rehashing the entire conversation with Josiah. We got in my SUV and buckled up, but before I pulled out of the parking lot, I turned to Dusty and said, “So Josiah is a definite yes?”

Dusty looked at me like I was crazy. “Of course! Unless... do you not like him? I’m sorry. I know I talked and talked and you didn’t get a chance to ask him any questions. Do we need to set up another meeting? I was just so excited, I didn’t think... but I really, really like him and think he’s the perfect choice and—”

I pressed a finger to Dusty’s lips and held up my phone, pressing call. Dusty’s eyes darted between mine.

“Marilyn? Yes, hello. You were right, Josiah is perfect... How long until we hear back? Uh huh. Okay. Thank you. Bye.”

I removed my finger from Dusty’s lips.

“What did she say?”

“All we’re waiting on now is Josiah’s decision.”

“And... when will we know?”

I shrugged. “By the end of the week, she said.”

Dusty groaned and collapsed back in his chair. “That’s so long.”

I chuckled. “Impatient much? You’ve waited years for me to say yes. What is a few days more?”

“An eternity minus an eternity doesn’t calculate out to me being patient,” Dusty grumbled. He leaned forward to turn on the music, and sat somewhat quietly for a few minutes as I got on the interstate to head home.

“What if he says no?” Dusty asked suddenly.

“Then he says no. There’s nothing we can do about that.”

“But we’ve waited so long. It’s not like there’s a lot of options for us. Maybe we should have exchanged numbers. I’m sure if he got to know us better, there’s no way he could say no. I could show him my Pinterest boards for the nursery. And we could—”

I reached over and grabbed Dusty’s hair. It was short, but just enough length for me to grab it the way he liked. “I can think of better uses for your mouth than worrying.”

His body went lax as the tension seeped out of his body at my controlling hand and suggestive words, and he responded immediately, loosening his seat belt so he could lean over to caress my chest. I let go of his hair and dropped my hand to his lower back.

Dusty nibbled my ear with a low giggle. “Here? Now?”

Fuck. We hadn’t done this in years. I raised an eyebrow and adjusted my hips in my seat. Dusty’s hand dropped to glide over my hardening cock and he sighed in my ear.

“You know, I love a man in jeans, but there’s something to be said for the thin, loose fabric of suit pants.”

“You may have told me how much you appreciate them a time or two.”

Dusty fumbled awkwardly with one hand at my belt and zipper—we were out of practice—but then he pulled my thick cock out, and his mouth was on me.

I hissed in pleasure, but kept my eyes firmly on the road. We could never have done this with Dusty driving. In our entire relationship, it had never been an option. Dusty would have driven us into the side of a barn.

His head bobbed slowly over my cock, working it deeper and deeper into his mouth. I pulled my hand up his back to grab his hair again and guide him. “That’s right, baby. Make your daddy come.”

There was something insanely hot about the danger and split focus of road head. I had already engaged my cruise control, so I wasn’t worried about going too fast and getting pulled over for speeding, but I still had to pay attention to all the other cars.

I pulled into the middle lane to pass by a truck. Just as we were passing the cab, the truck let out a loud honk honk. Dusty startled and started to pull back, but I tightened my grip and pushed him back down. “Give him a show, babe.”

Dusty pushed back far enough to mutter, “Exhibitionist.” And then he went to town, sucking me all the way in, the tip of my cock hitting the back of his throat. I would have loved to watch him, but the trucker had sped up, probably to watch. Yeah, let him see my man taking me like a champ. This mouth was mine, and mine alone.

“Make me, come, babe.”

Dusty’s tongue slid back and forth against the skin of my cock in the tight, wet space of his mouth, and he managed to slide a hand under my pants to stroke my balls. The trucker honked his horn again and that was all it took to make me come, my feet pressing hard against the flat floor of the car, my fists white-knuckled on the wheel as I came with a moan.

Dusty tucked me politely back in my pants after swallowing my cum, pretending to dab at the corner of his lips politely as he pulled back.

“Feel better?” I asked.

“Yes. Thank you. You?”

“Always,” I said, linking my fingers with his. We were a good team. Always had been. Always would be.