They were following him again.

Carlos rubbed his aching back and sighed. They were obviously trying to be stealthy, but two mismatched idiots in Lions' colors didn't exactly blend in on campus. Unfortunately, he had classes to get to and no time to deal with them.

By the time he made it out of his last class of the week, he was fed up enough to stalk right up to them. Sticking his finger in Victor's face, he glared at them both. "Look, fuckers..."

"Hi Leoncito," Victor said, ignoring the finger in his face. "How are you doing? Sorry to hear about Theresa. Do you want us to rough up the Caldwells for you?"

Completely derailed, Carlos stared up at the eager-to-please alpha. "No! Madre de dios, no. Don't go beating people up, man. It'll just land you in jail."

"I told you we shouldn't have asked," the shorter of the pair said.

"Shut up, Chuy." Sighing loudly, Carlos ran a hand through his hair and tried to hold on to his irritation. He was just so exhausted between classes and getting in as much landscaping as he could before winter and the baby made it impossible. Being angry took more energy than he had to spare. "Come on, guys. What's the deal?"

Both men looked away guiltily. "Nothin'," Chuy said, scuffing his expensive sneakers against the concrete.

"Bullshit." Carlos turned and started shuffling off toward the bus stop. He wasn't at all surprised when they fell in behind him. "Look, I'm tired and cranky, and I have to get home and help my mom look for a new job. Can you just tell me why the hell you're here and save us both some time?"

"It's against orders," Victor said sheepishly. "We're not supposed to tell you that el León assigned us to keep an eye on you." He frowned, as he realized what he said.

"Aw, fuck. Are you kidding me?" Chuy muttered. "We're gonna get busted back to lookout thanks to you and your big mouth."

It was such a ridiculous thing, the kind of comment Teddy would have made. Teddy wouldn't have done it without thinking, but because he didn't seem to understand the art of the polite fiction. Carlos laughed, rubbing his chest as it ached. In all the drama with his mom having to move out of the Caldwells’ carriage house practically overnight, he'd forgotten to call.

"I won't tell if you won't," Carlos said, dragging himself back to the present. "Why does León want you to follow me? Have the Wolves been making trouble again?"

"No, no," Victor said, actually blushing. "We're not bodyguards."

"Do you really think they're gonna send us if they needed firepower?" Chuy grumbled. "They don't even let us into the planning meetings." He kicked a rock, looking like nothing so much as one of the kids Carlos tutored. "We're just supposed to keep an eye on you, you know? Make sure you don't need anything." He kept sneaking glances at Carlos' belly, blatantly obvious because of the way the backpack pulled his shirt tight.

Stopping in his tracks, Carlos rounded on them both, one hand resting protectively on the solid bump just below his ribs. It was getting bigger every day, far faster than he expected. "How many times do I have to tell him I don't need his help?" he growled. "You tell him to fuck off. I'm not joining up, and he's not getting his fucking hands on my kid."

"It's not like that," Victor said, his mouth turned down until he looked like a sad puppy. "He just wants us to make sure you're okay. He specifically told us to take out anybody who tried to recruit you. He's proud of you, and he should be." He ducked his head. You're the only person I've ever known who went to college."

"College ain't that big of a deal," Chuy snapped, glaring off to one side at nothing. He was turned away just enough to miss how the big alpha kept looking at him.

Carlos cursed his hormones for the hundredth time as his heart swelled with affection for the two idiots, tears welling in his eyes. "Aw, man. You're making it really hard for me to be angry with you," he said. "I don't suppose it will do any good to tell you to stop following me around?"

"No," Victor said with a shrug. "If the Lions found out we were slacking on the job, they'd beat the crap out of us."

Carlos' phone started ringing before he could think of a reason for them to stop following him that didn't end in bloodshed. "Fuck. Fine," he said, digging his phone out of his backpack. His pants were already too tight to fit it in the pockets. "Just stay the hell out of my way, okay? And wear normal clothes. You two stick out like sore thumbs."

Victor grinned at him, nodding his head so fast he looked like a bobblehead. "Got it, boss."

"Oh, no," Carlos said, bruising his finger on the other man's chest. "I am not your boss."

Snickering under his breath, Chuy dragged the alpha away, calling back over his shoulder, "Whatever you say, boss."

"Fuck my life," Carlos muttered.

"Watch your mouth, Carlos!"

He winced, pulling the phone away from his ear. "Sorry, Mamá. I was just about to call and let you know I'm on my way home. How did your interview go?"

"Oh, m’ijito," she said, sniffing loudly.

"Mamá? What's wrong?" Panicking slightly, Carlos tucked himself into a brick alcove by the English building that had once housed a statue of some famous historical figure. Shakespeare, judging by the faded plaque on the wall. "Did something happen?"

The loud honk of her blowing her nose crackled across the line. "It's a miracle," she said, her voice breaking. "God has sent me an angel."

Pressing one hand to his pounding heart, Carlos slumped against the brick. "That's good...?"

"It's wonderful. It's not a live-in position, but the pay is so good I can get my own apartment, and I don't have to run any errands. Mrs. Connelly is very active, and she likes to get out of the house. I don't have to wash the dishes either. She says she likes to do it. That's good because there are so many dishes, m’ijito. There are three whole walls of cabinets for them. Who has three walls full of dishes? But she's so nice, Carlos. And the pay! Did I mention the pay?"

Carlos stared at the phone as his mother babbled on, something niggling in the back of his mind. "You mentioned it, Mamá," he said slowly.

"Oh, and the best part is that I start right away. I can have enough money for an apartment by the end of the month," she continued, going on about the quirks of the woman who hired her, and how very different the job would be from working for the Caldwells. This Mrs. Connelly was apparently a very strange woman.

The pieces fell into place with a visceral click, and Carlos growled under his breath. "That sounds great, Mamá," he said through his teeth. "I don't remember you applying with a Mrs. Connelly."

She paused to blow her nose again. "I didn't," she said dismissively. "Mrs. Connelly was in the market for a maid, and she heard I was available. She doesn't live in the Caldwells' neighborhood. You remember the old houses that always have all the Christmas lights? We used to go when you were a baby. She lives over there."

"Did she mention how she heard you were available?" he asked, straining to keep his voice neutral.

"What does it matter?" She sniffed and cleared her throat. "All those ladies know each other. Maybe God told her, who cares? It's a miracle, and you shouldn't ask too much, or God will take it back," she snapped.

Gripping his phone so hard that it creaked, he replied dutifully, "Yes, Mamá. I'm happy for you."

"This is a good thing," she said, coaxing him to agree. "I'll be able to have my own place, and you'll get your privacy back. Mrs. Connelly even said she'll be lenient with my hours so I can help you with the baby when he gets here."

Ice flooded Carlos' veins, wrapping like a vice around his lungs. "She knew about the baby?"

"No...We were talking about grandchildren, and I mentioned I didn't have any yet. Is something wrong, Carlos?" The worry in her voice seeped through his anxiety, and he sucked in a deep breath.

"No, Mamá. It's fine. I was just hurrying to catch the bus, and I got out of breath," he lied. "I'm going to be a little late getting home."

Theresa huffed into the microphone, the feedback strangely comforting. "Take your time, baby. You need to be more careful. I'll let you go so you can get your bus, okay? I'm making posole for dinner, so if you want sour cream, you should pick some up."

"I love you, Mamá." He thumbed off the call and immediately began dialing again.

"You have reached the voicemail of Theodore William Connelly of Connelly Designs. Please leave a message after the beep."

"Goddammit!" Carlos threw his head back and shouted the curse into the overcast sky. It was early enough in the semester that he drew a few curious glances from freshmen walking by, but none of the older students even lifted their heads.

"I don't need your handouts. —Carlos"

He stabbed his fingers into the buttons and sent the text. Stomping off to the bus stop, he glared at the map until he found the bus that would take him to the old historical district, filled with estates so vast the owners kept golf carts just to get around the yard. It was the second bus to show up, ten minutes before the one that would have taken him back to his overcrowded apartment.

"You can take your big house and fancy job and shove it up your ass. —Carlos"

Settled into a seat on the bus, he couldn't get comfortable. Part of it was guilt over leaving Victor and Chuy behind, but the rest...

"We would have been fine. —Carlos"

Anger and embarrassment and something a little like longing tangled up in his stomach until he felt like he was going to be sick again, even if the morning sickness had backed off finally.

"I'm not another problem for you to fix. —Carlos"

"I know. —Teddy"

He stared at the text for a long time, his eyes narrowed. That was it? Rage clogged his throat and spilled across his vision.

"I'm sorry I upset you, but if I have the power to fix it, then not using it is cruel. —Teddy"

Abruptly, all the rage vanished. He rested a hand on the curve of his belly, so big now he had to switch to wearing sweats because he didn't have the money to go buy maternity clothes until he absolutely had to. It was such a Teddy thing to do, barge on ahead and damn what other people thought.

"You should have asked. —Carlos"

"You would have said no. —Teddy"

He didn't have time to reply before the bus pulled up to his stop. Climbing down from the bus, he stared down the long, long stretch of endless yards and expensive houses half hidden by well-placed trees. This was probably not his best idea, considering he had no idea which house was the one he was looking for.

His phone buzzed as he was watching the bus drive away.

"Pride is no reason to let someone ruin your life. —Teddy"

Rolling his eyes, Carlos started down the street.

"Don't start. What's your grandmother's address? —Carlos"

"217 Benedict St. Why? —Teddy"

Carlos scanned the houses around him and groaned. He was already out of breath again, his feet aching.

"I'm on the 500 block of MacArthur St. Come get me. —Carlos"

It didn't occur to him Teddy might be at work until he already pressed send. Even more oddly, he wasn't worried at all about the conversation that was about to happen.

Walking down the street because it was better than standing around, he used the opportunity to check out the landscaping. He'd been thinking more and more about going into environmental engineering. It was a hot field, working on eco-friendly methods and developments, and he had enoug”experience from his landscaping to look good on his resume.

It was less than ten minutes according to his phone, when a low buzzing noise started up in the distance, getting closer. The golf cart was zippy for its size, pulling up next to him a few seconds after turning the corner a block ahead.

Teddy was a mess.

Carlos took in his sweaty, dirt-smudged appearance and had to swallow to moisten his suddenly dry mouth. "Hi," he said eloquently, tracing the lines of muscle highlighted by the thin t-shirt the alpha was wearing. He'd lost weight since Carlos had seen him last.

Turning in his seat, Teddy smiled. He opened his mouth to reply right about the time his eyes found the bulge of Carlos' stomach, and the only sound that came out was a strangled squeak.

"Um..." Feeling his ears burn, Carlos ducked his head, unexpectedly shy. "I...I've been meaning to call."

Teddy swallowed hard. "I wasn't expecting it to be so...Wow." He reached a hand out to touch, frowning when he noticed it was shaking. "Can I?"

"Yeah. Of course." Carlos tossed his backpack into the back, climbing in and sitting stiffly. "I'm sorry. For not saying something earlier."

"I kind of figured there was a 50/50 chance you'd tell me at all," Teddy said, stroking one hot hand so gently over the stretched tight skin.

The warmth seeping through his t-shirt made the hairs on Carlos' arms stand on end, and he shivered. "Wait. What do you mean?"

Without even looking up, Teddy shrugged. "I did the math," he said, his voice breaking. "At first, I thought the immoral associations the Caldwells were talking about was your father, but it wouldn't have taken them years to figure that one out. It was almost twelve weeks after we started seeing each other that you stopped answering my calls, which is about the same time Greg ran away from Brendan." He glanced at Carlos. "Greg and Brendan are my frat brothers."

"I didn't run away," Carlos huffed. "I was trying to figure out what to do. I came by the house to talk to you when Mrs. Caldwell saw me." It wasn't technically a lie. If Teddy had been there, they would have talked about it then. And how did you know about my dad?"

"That makes sense. I think she thought that it was Peter's." They both shuddered. "Your father is an interesting man. I accessed the archives for news stories on gang violence after the night we met Victor. Did you know the only charges he's ever been successfully prosecuted for were violence against other gangs?" He glanced at Carlos through his lashes. "Of course, you do." Shaking himself slightly, he put the golf cart in gear and pulled a gentle U-turn.

Carlos stared at him. "It might not have been yours," he said quietly. That was still his biggest worry, that someone, Teddy or his family, would claim the baby wasn't his.

Frowning, Teddy tilted his head, that odd bird-like angle surprisingly comforting. "It's mine," he said without a trace of doubt. "Is it bad to call a baby an it? I'll work on that, I promise."

Warmth spread across his chest, and Carlos shook his head affectionately. "You're a strange man, mi brujo."

Teddy hummed under his breath. "Are you...I mean, what did you decide? While you were thinking."

"About what? Oh, I'll be done with my degree by the time the baby comes, and Mamá is going to watch her while I'm working, so there won't be any problems." He closed his eyes as the tiny vehicle swayed, his stomach rolling just enough to make his mouth water.

It was quiet until they pulled up the long driveway of a house surrounded by roses. "Is it a girl, then?" Teddy asked as they parked, climbing out to help Carlos step the four inches down to the paved driveway.

Smiling affectionately, Carlos accepted the helping hand. "I don't know. It's kind of a tradition in my family to not find out." He glanced up through his lashes at the alpha. "Would that be bad?"

Teddy blinked. "No," he said immediately. "Nana would like another granddaughter, I think. I don't have a preference. They all scare me."

"Babies scare you?" Carlos asked, raising one eyebrow.

"They're little and squirmy," Teddy said, blushing bright red and ducking his head. "I don't want to break them."

"They're stronger than you'd think," Carlos muttered, looking around the yard. "I'm not going to meet your grandmother, am I?"

"Nana went to bingo night." Teddy led them to the porch where there was a very strange set of cups and saucers waiting next to a metal teapot.

"This is..." Carlos picked up the orange and brown cup and blinked at the lavender saucer underneath. Quirky didn't even begin to describe it.

"Tea," Teddy said, pouring them both cups of the pale green liquid. He downed his like it was medicine he didn't want to taste, grimacing the whole time.

Tentatively, Carlos took a sip of his. It wasn't bad. Needed a little sugar, but it wasn't the most bitter drink he'd ever had. Then again, maybe student coffee had dulled his taste buds. "It's not bad," he said.

"You can have mine from now on," Teddy muttered, sitting back and clasping his hands in his lap.

The silence stretched uncomfortably, and Carlos set his cup down with a click. "Was there anything you wanted to know?"

Perking up, Teddy swung around, his brilliant eyes laser sharp. "Everything."

Carlos laughed. "That may take a while."

Reaching out with an unsteady hand, Teddy smoothed a wrinkle out of Carlos' shirt, both of them sighing. "I have time."

"Well, first of all," Carlos said, leaning closer, "I hope you like tamales..."