Morris stared in the full-length mirror inside his closet door and silently critiqued the fourth outfit he’d tried on for tonight’s date. He’d been a ball of nerves since coming home from work to prepare, and he had been delighted to see Dory already there to babysit Aeron. He’d come over half-an-hour ago, so Jaysan could go back to the Jensen house and get ready, too. Morris wanted to properly pick him up, instead of them both leaving the house together.

For their first date, he was going to be over-the-top, old-fashioned and romance his omega.

But why were clothes so hard? He’d told Jaysan they’d go business casual, so neither of them had to worry about a suit and tie, which he was used to wearing for work. But Morris didn’t have much in the way of non-dressy clothes, and he’d tried them all on. Right now, he had on a gray polo over khaki slacks, and it looked…okay.

He needed better than okay. So he swapped the gray polo for a black button-down that looked better. He rolled the sleeves up to about mid-forearm and that was even better.

Goddess, I wonder if Jaysan is having this much trouble choosing clothes.

His hair usually did its own thing, but tonight he put a bit of styling gel into it, so it had a bit of wave to the left. Brushed his teeth. Splashed on a tiny bit of cologne. Re-inspected his teeth for any sign of today’s lunch.

This is about as good as it gets.

And if he didn’t hustle, he’d be late picking Jaysan up. He’d never been to the Jensen house, but Jaysan had given him detailed directions, as well as “it takes about fifteen minutes, depending on traffic.”

Downstairs, Dory was playing on the floor with Aeron, who was once again stacking blocks. That kid was going to grow up to be either an architect, or a sculptor of some sort. Dory had been delighted to babysit again, and his eleven-thirty curfew gave Morris and Jaysan plenty of time to enjoy their date.

“You look great, Mr. Danvers,” Dory said. “I can’t believe you met your bondmate. How cool. And Jaysan is super nice, too.”

“Thank you,” he replied, unable to stop a puff of pride. “You guys have fun tonight. My mobile number is on the fridge in case anything happens.”

“Thank you. Hey, Mr. Danvers?”

“It’s Morris, please. What’s up?”

Dory’s face pinched briefly. “Um, do you mind checking in before you head home? Just so I know you’re on your way?”

Grief squeezed Morris’s heart. “I will. I promise.”

“Thanks.”

Morris picked up the flowers he’d left on the side table, double-checked he had his wallet, phone and keys, and then left for his first real, official date. With anyone.

Somehow, Jaysan hadn’t found the idea a twenty-four-year-old virgin off-putting. In fact, he’d seemed a bit awestruck by the idea, and yet he hadn’t made Morris feel stupid for having very little experience. Much in the same way Morris hadn’t shamed Jaysan for his abundance thereof. They were very different men, and yes, on some basic, alpha-instinct level it did bother him that Jaysan had been with others. But Jaysan was his omega, and in the end, his future mate.

No one else’s.

He growled at the memory of that Mikel character asking Jaysan to be his mate. He could probably track the guy down, based on his first name and the apartment building where he’d picked up Jaysan. Mikel needed to know Jaysan was off-limits, period. But Jaysan said no, don’t go after the others, and he would abide by Jaysan’s wishes. If they were truly going to be equals, Morris had to respect his mate’s decisions, even if he disagreed with them.

The driving directions got him to the Jensen house just in time to not be late. Simple home in a nice neighborhood, with well-tended flower beds. He parked on the street and walked up the stone path to the front door, flowers behind his back. Pressed the bell with his free hand, stomach wobbling, and waited.

Orrin answered the door, his expression neutral. “Mr. Danvers, it’s nice to see you again.”

“Thank you, sir. You as well.” He waited for Orrin to open the door fully before stepping inside. “You have a lovely home.”

“Thank you. Jaysan is upstairs, but I’m sure he’ll be down any moment. Can I get you anything to drink?”

“No, I’m fine.”

Orrin glanced at the stairs, then leaned in, voice lowered. “Please don’t think I’m being a meddling parent here, but I do care about Jaysan’s well-being and his future, so I have to ask this. Are you seeking to mate with Jaysan because you truly care about him, or because he’s Aeron’s omegin and easy childcare?”

Morris blinked hard, startled by the blunt question. “I truly care about him, sir. I love him, and I want him in my life, as part of my family. Before I met Jaysan, I had no plans to mate, but then fate brought Aeron and Jaysan into my life, and I won’t let them go.”

Orrin squinted at him, then nodded. “I believe you. Understand, I had to ask.”

“I do understand, and as his guardian, it’s your right to ask. I don’t have any secrets, Mr. Jensen. Jaysan and I have spoken extensively about our pasts, our mistakes, and our hopes for the future.”

And they had. After dinner last night, they’d gone back upstairs to swap blow jobs a second time, and then they’d talked. Hours of talking, until they’d dozed off in bed together, naked under the covers. Morgan had been the only other person in his life Morris could talk to so freely and openly, about anything or nothing. And waking up with Jaysan in his arms? Jerking each other off in shower?

Perfection.

He’d purchased a bottle of artificial slick and stashed it in their bedroom, with no expectations of using it tonight, but better to be prepared. Besides, slick was fun for a lot of things besides anal sex. Morris wasn’t sure he was ready to go there with Jaysan yet. It was such a huge freaking step…

Footsteps on the stairs snared his attention, and Morris’s pulse raced at the sight of his omega. Jaysan wore dark jeans and a light-blue thermal shirt that offset his dark hair and complexion. He froze at the bottom of the stairs and blatantly checked Morris out.

“Hey,” Morris said.

“Hi, yourself.” Jaysan boldly crossed the narrow space between them and welcomed him with a firm kiss. “You look amazing.”

“So do you.” Morris brought the flowers around to his front. “These are for you.”

Jaysan gasped, his grin widening as he accepted the bouquet. “Oh, they’re gorgeous, I love them. How did you know daises are my favorite flower?”

“You told me last night.”

“I did?”

“Yup.”

“An alpha who listens,” Orrin said. “Imagine that. How about I put these in water for you, so you two can head out. Are you coming home tonight, Jaysan?”

Jaysan leered at Morris’s crotch. “Doubt it.”

“Text me your plans when you know for sure, all right?”

“I will.”

Morris offered Jaysan his arm and escorted the younger man to his car, where he opened the passenger door for him.

“You are being the perfect gentleman,” Jaysan said. “You don’t have to put on a show for Orrin’s sake.”

“Oh, angel.” Morris leaned down to kiss him again. “I’m doing all of this for you.”

Jaysan looked like he wanted to melt into a puddle of goo. He kissed Morris again, then said, “By all means, put on a show for me.”

Morris shut his door and got into the driver’s side. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starving. I know a great little pub that serves amazing comfort food, and they usually have live music.”

“Sounds great.”

He didn’t miss the slight tremor in Jaysan’s voice. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I get a little nervous when I go to public places, because I hate getting recognized. I was shopping for groceries once and this beta guy kept pestering me about my life story and the fight ring, and I had a panic attack. Alec had to come get me.”

“I’m sorry. If it helps, I picked this place because constables and patrolmen frequent it, so there is plenty of off-duty security. And I’ll be by your side the whole time.”

Jaysan’s smile evened out. “Okay. Thank you for thinking of that.”

“I’m your mate, it’s my job to make sure you’re safe and comfortable.”

“I know I’m safe when I’m with you.”

Jerry’s Pub looked like a hole-in-the-wall bar from the outside, with front windows covered with old posters advertising musicians who’d played there, and a heavy wood front door. But inside, the restaurant oozed warmth with dark walnut booths and tables, a long bar with leather stools, and a brightly-lit stage in the rear left. Two men were currently on that stage, one playing a cello, while the other sang. The place was pretty full, too, most tables occupied and only one or two seats open at the bar.

The host led them to a table near the bar. Morris pulled Jaysan’s chair out for him before sitting across from him. “Specials are clipped to the back of the menus,” the host said. “Dain is your server, he’ll be with you shortly.”

“Thank you,” Morris said. Once the man wandered off, he asked, “Do you feel like wine tonight? Or a beer?”

“Um, I’m not sure.” Jaysan opened and scanned the menu. “Looks like a beer spot. They’ve even got beer in some of the dishes.”

“They serve a beer sampler, so you can try all the local brews. By the time you’ve had them all, it’s equivalent to a full pint.”

“Ooh, let’s order that. You said you’ve eaten here before, so what do you like?”

Morris didn’t have to look at the menu to answer. “They make amazing beer-braised short ribs on garlic mashed potatoes. I’m also partial to their Fiesta Burger, if you like spicy food.”

“The short ribs sound good.” He looked at the specials list. “Holy crap.”

“What?”

Jaysan looked up, his expression both excited and a little sad. “They have Shepherd’s Pie. Papa used to make that a lot, because it was Dad’s favorite. It made us feel close to him when we ate it.”

Morris wanted to gather Jaysan up in his arms, but they were in a pub, and he didn’t want to draw unwanted attention to Jaysan. He was already being eyeballed by someone at the next table, and Morris shot him a fierce glare. The man looked at his dinner.

“I’m going to get the Shepherd’s Pie,” Jaysan said, oblivious to the staring. “It’s been ages.”

“Would you mind if I ordered it, too? I’ve never had it before.”

“Go for it, I bet you’ll love it.”

Morris didn’t even look at the description of the dish; Jaysan’s approval was enough for him.

Their server, a beta teenager who seemed vaguely familiar, bounced over with a grin and glasses of iced water for them both. “Hey, guys, my name is Dain, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you started with a platter of Beer Chili Nachos, or our famous Asparagus Dip?”

Morris deferred the question to Jaysan, who shook his head. “No, thank you,” Morris said. “We’ll both have the beer sampler and the Shepherd’s Pie special.”

Dain jotted that on his notepad, but something in his expression caught Morris’s attention. Disapproval that Morris had ordered for them both? Maybe. More and more betas, especially the younger generation, were speaking up about the unfair balance in omega/alpha relationships.

“I’ll get that order in and your drinks right away,” Dain said.

“Thank you,” Jaysan replied.

After he left, Morris asked, “Did you mind me ordering for you?”

“Of course not. No sense in me repeating what you just said. Plus, it draws attention to my voice. Why?”

“I don’t know. I think it irritated the server.”

“Well, it wouldn’t surprise me. You didn’t recognize him, did you?”

Morris glanced around but the boy had disappeared. “He seemed familiar, but I couldn’t place the face. Who is he?”

“Dain Jenks. One of Constable Jenks’s younger brothers.”

“Oh.” While he’d interacted with Karter Jenks numerous times, he’d never met the man’s family. “Well, now it makes more sense why he wouldn’t like me ordering for you.”

“I think it was more than that. We met at a barbecue last summer, and while we didn’t actually talk to each other, he probably recognized me and it made him think of Jax. He is his brother-in-law, you know.”

“Good point.” Okay, so maybe the guy didn’t think Morris was some kind of alphahole for ordering for Jaysan.

A commotion by the bar got Morris’s attention. A couple of off-duty, but still-uniformed constables were seated there and seemed to be the source of the noise. But a bartender swooped in and things settled quickly.

“Typical alpha meatheads,” Jaysan said with a laugh.

Morris snorted. “Didn’t mean to bring you to a place where the security was the disruptive force of the night.”

“It’s fine. No place is one-hundred-percent safe all the time. Besides.” Jaysan leaned across the table and held Morris’s hand. “I’ve got you to defend me. And my own moves, too.”

His own—oh. For a little while tonight, Morris had been able to completely forget the worst parts of Jaysan’s past. The one topic they did not discuss was the fight ring. Everything else in Jaysan’s past was fair game except that. Morris wanted him to open up and share one day, but he knew pushing the subject would only dig Jaysan’s heels in.

Stubborn omega.

When Dain returned with their beer samplers, Jaysan shocked the hell out of Morris by asking, “Do you remember me? From the barbecue Tarek and Braun threw?”

Dain nodded and tried to hide a sheepish smile. “I did recognize you, but I didn’t want to embarrass you if you didn’t remember me. Jaysan, right?”

“Yes.” They shook hands. “And this is my bondmate, Morris Danvers.”

That sheepish smile turned into one of relief. “Hi. I know your name. You work for Ronin Cross, right?”

“I do.” Morris shook Dain’s hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I know Karter and Jax, but not their family.”

“Nice to meet you, too. And bondmates, huh? Congratulations.”

“Thank you,” Jaysan replied with a huge grin. “It’s our first date.”

“Well, then I won’t interrupt. Your entrees will be up in a few minutes.” He skittered off, and Morris laughed. He liked the kid already.

“There, now it isn’t awkward anymore,” Jaysan said. He studied the wooden tray of small glasses, the beers lined up from darkest to lightest. “How should we go about this?”

“Well, some folks like to start on one end and work their way across,” Morris replied. He plucked a folded card off the condiment tray. “But this has a listing of all the beers and their notes, so you can try them in any order and have an idea of what to expect.”

“That’s fun.”

The sampler tray had the name of each beer engraved in the wood by each glass, so they were easy to identify. Jaysan decided on the Honey Ale first, so they both picked up the palest beer. Held them up to toast.

“To clean slates and new beginnings,” Morris said.

“To the start of a happy life together,” Jaysan replied. “Now that our stubborn asses have gotten over ourselves and given in.”

Morris chuckled as he clinked his glass to Jaysan’s. “I hear that.”

The beer was smooth, a bit sweet, but still had a nice hoppy note. Morris was no beer snob, but tasting and comparing them with Jaysan was fun, and they entertained themselves until the food arrived. Two big, sizzling pots of browned mashed potatoes with gravy bubbling up along the sides. It smelled amazing.

He followed Jaysan’s move of cutting into the middle to release steam. Instead of ground meat, the bottom was melt-in-your-mouth beef in a thick, beer gravy. The vegetables were perfect, the potatoes divine. It was comfort food in a bowl and reminded Morris of coming home to a warm house after the chill of a dreary winter’s day.

“This is amazing,” Morris said. “How do you like it?”

Jaysan had to swallow a mouthful before he could respond. “It’s really good. Papa’s was better, but this is acceptable.”

“Maybe we can try making your papa’s recipe sometime. Did you ever cook it?”

“Not on my own, but I helped a bunch of times. I can probably figure it out.”

“Awesome.”

They ate in silence for a while, but their silence was filled with the two-man group still playing on stage, and it gave the date its own soothing soundtrack. Near the end of the meal, Dain swooped by with a slice of molten chocolate cake and two forks. “On the house, and congrats again.”

Jaysan blushed when Morris fed him a bite of the gooey cake. The way he licked the tines of the fork sent blood into Morris’s dick, and yeah, they were getting up to something later.

Two men started yelling an instant before someone jostled Morris’s chair hard enough that he almost stabbed Jaysan’s face with the fork. Fury blazed in his chest, and Morris shot to his feet. He pivoted to face the asshole who’d shoved him, only to find a familiar, if inebriated face. And yelling at a constable, even a drunk one, was a very bad idea.

Senior Constable Brandt Lars blinked bloodshot, bleary eyes and puffed beer-soaked breath at him. Morris didn’t know the man personally, but they’d interacted enough in the courts building for various cases that they were…friendly. As friendly as Lars was with anyone, he supposed, because the older alpha had a notoriously short fuse.

“Go home, Brandt,” another constable said. The man looked more exhausted than angry. “I’ll call you a cab.”

“Don’t wanna,” Lars slurred. “Home’s empty.”

“Then go someplace else, because you’re disturbing people here.”

Lars opened his mouth, seeming prepared to unleash some verbal tirade, and then his gaze locked on Morris’s left. Jaysan’s sweet scent told him who Lars was staring at. “Ollie?” Lars asked.

“Constable Lars? It’s Jaysan Rowe.” Jaysan took a step closer, putting himself right by Morris’s elbow. “Do you remember me?”

“Ollie.” Lars looked like he wanted to burst into tears. Then he blinked hard and something penetrated the alcohol. “No, you aren’t him. Not my omega.”

Morris looked at the other constable, who seemed sad but not surprised. “He does this every year,” the man said.

“Does what?” Morris asked. “Gets drunk and mistakes innocent omegas for another man?”

“Yeah. Ollie was his mate. He disappeared six years ago.”

Lars swayed, and Morris got the bigger alpha into his vacated seat before he could topple over. Misery wafted from Lars, and Morris’s heart ached for his pain. They both knew what real loss felt like.

Jaysan dragged his own chair over and took one of Lars’s hands. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Constable.”

“Disappeared,” Lars said. “Just gone one day, never seen again.”

Goddess, that was horrible. To spend six years wondering what happened? Morris couldn’t imagine it. Hell, he’d only “lost” Jaysan for ninety minutes yesterday, and he’d been a mess. Six years? The information also explained Lars’s constant, surly nature.

Jaysan caught Morris’s eyes and the silent plea in them. A plea to help somehow, date or not, and Morris nodded. To Lars’s companion, he said, “We’ve got it from here. I know Constable Lars from my work as a paralegal. We’ll get him home.”

“Appreciate it,” the constable said. “It’s harder this year, because a few months ago, they officially filed the case as cold and shelved it.”

Lars shuddered.

The other officers moved away, and Jaysan kept Lars company while Morris paid the dinner bill and left Dain a generous tip. As much as he disliked their date being interrupted, he also understood Jaysan’s ingrained, omega need to help a suffering alpha. Morris got Lars up and out of the pub, mostly because he disliked the idea of the older, drunk alpha touching his bondmate. Jaysan walked ahead of them, and he had the back door of Morris’s car open by the time they caught up. Lars was a stumbling drunk and keeping him upright was not easy when the man was bigger than him by a few inches and a lot of pounds.

Morris rarely cursed not being as big and buff as most other alphas, but tonight he did.

Lars flopped into the backseat.

“Constable, I need to know where you live,” Morris said. Lars muttered something unintelligible. Morris rolled his eyes, then patted the man down for his wallet. His driver’s license address was on a somewhat poor side of the province, which surprised Morris a bit. The man was a Senior Constable; surely he could afford a better place.

Jaysan was inside the car before Morris could open the door for him, but their date had hit the pause button, anyway. They drove in silence, while Lars occasionally offered up nonsense words peppered with, “Ollie.”

“Do you think Ollie was his mate?” Jaysan asked once Morris found the correct street.

“Good chance.”

“Thank you for driving him home. He looked so lost back at the pub.”

“It’s not a problem.” He held Jaysan’s hand while they both watched mailbox numbers, slowly closing in on Lars’s house. The homes here were small, squat, and several decades old. The homes of men just starting out, who can only afford a certain cost. Not decorated constables.

“I wonder if he lived here with Ollie,” Jaysan mused as Morris pulled into the right driveway. The house looked about as sad and unhappy as its owner.

“Good chance.” Morris didn’t know how long Lars and Ollie had lived here together before Ollie’s disappearance, but it was long enough for Lars to stay.

Together, they found a key ring and got Lars out of the car. He was half-asleep, and it took Morris several tries to find the right house key. Thankfully, there was no alarm system to turn off, because he doubted Lars’s pickled brain could have remembered the code.

The home was single-story, so leading Lars through the dusty, messy living room to a short hallway with three doors was easy enough. First was the bathroom, the second a half-finished nursery covered in cobwebs and dust that made Morris’s eye sting with grief.

Had they been expecting when Ollie disappeared?

The last door was a bedroom as messy as the rest of the house. Lars was obviously no housekeeper, and the slightly sour smell of the entire house proved it. Morris helped Lars out of his shoes and the outer layers of his uniform. Jaysan went into the bathroom, and a few moments later, returned with water and two ibrospirin tablets, both of which he forced into Lars, who sputtered the water a bit.

He also didn’t resist their help, seeming content to let relative strangers put his drunk ass to bed. Lars rolled over and started snoring almost right away. Jaysan disappeared again and returned with a small trash can, which he put by the bed, along with the refilled glass of water.

“Should we leave a note?” Jaysan asked. “So he isn’t really confused when he wakes up and doesn’t remember how he got home?”

“Good idea.”

Morris wasn’t super comfortable rummaging around in another man’s home, but he eventually unearthed a notepad and pen, and he wrote a quick note, along with his name and contact information, should Lars have any questions. He left the note on the bathroom sink, since that was likely the first place Lars would go in the morning, along with the man’s keys.

In the living room, he found Jaysan staring at a photo on the wall. Framed, two men, both many years younger. One was obviously Lars, the other a shorter, smiling man. “Do you think this is Ollie?” Jaysan asked.

“Maybe.”

“I feel so bad for him.”

“So do I, angel. But it’s not our place to interfere.”

“I know. It’s just sad that he has to wake up alone tomorrow, with no company beyond his hangover.”

“Agreed, and that’s why I left my name and number. If he needs someone to talk to, he can call me. Or he can call any of his other actual friends. But we can’t stay here, because we weren’t invited.”

“Okay.”

Morris drew his unhappy omega into a tight hug, then kissed his temple. “I love that you care so much about other people. I wish we all had that level of empathy.”

“We should. We’re all human beings, after all.”

“Agreed.”

Jaysan heaved a sigh. “Did I ruin our date?”

“Absolutely not. But you’re taking this kind of hard, so what would you prefer? Go home, or do something else?”

“Is it wrong that I want to go home? Your home. Our home. Not the Jensens.” Jaysan looked up, his dark lashes dotted with unshed tears. “Maybe we can just watch Aeron sleep for a little while and appreciate the family we have?”

“We can absolutely do that.”

And it’s exactly what they did.

After locking Lars’s door behind them, Morris drove them home. Dory was surprised to see them back early, and Morris paid him for the whole night. Jaysan texted Orrin to confirm he was staying over, and they held each other, side-by-side, while Aeron slept in his crib. So peaceful. So innocent. The memory of that empty, unused nursery made Morris’s heart squeeze tight with gratitude.

Gratitude that he had the family Lars had apparently lost. But to who? And why? Where had Ollie gone? Had he left on his own, or was he taken?

Not questions for tonight.

As fatigue settled in, they prepared for bed. Jaysan didn’t have his own toiletries, so he used the stuff Morris had put in the master bathroom. He also wore Morris’s smallest t-shirt and boxers, which were still adorably baggy. They curled up together in the master bed, content to simply exist together. Morris breathed in his bondmate and thanked the goddess above for sending Jaysan to him. For allowing them to create a future together.

And he sent another prayer for Brandt Lars, that the man’s heart be healed in one way or another. Because everyone, even grumpy bastards like Lars, deserved a second chance at happiness.