Golden Valley (Pack 3)

“How’s the baby?” Simon asked as he stepped into the room.

“Still nameless,” Ricky answered.

“It’s good you’re waiting for the perfect one instead of just picking from a list. I’m sure the right name will come to you.”

“Uh huh.” He was closing in on a month with a nameless child because of a mission to come up with the perfect name. That was what he had been doing. He had not been following tradition by waiting for his Alpha to name their child. And he definitely had not been hiding in a bedroom, feeling sorry for himself over the state of his life, and walking a line between caring for The Baby while also bursting into tears at the sight of him. “I need to clean up.” He snapped the onesie over the clean diaper and picked up The Baby.

“Sure.” Simon shifted from foot to foot. “You know, we can watch him for you anytime you want to take a nap or a walk or just have a break.”

“I’m fine.” Ricky stepped into the attached bathroom, set The Baby on the folded towel he kept on the counter, and pumped soap onto his hands. The Baby was a constant reminder of Morgan, which made it hard to be with him, but The Baby was a constant reminder of Morgan, so Ricky couldn’t be apart from him.

“Of course, you’re fine. Absolutely. Definitely.” Simon paused. “But maybe you’re a little tired and we can help.”

Turning on the cold tap, Rick said, “Sorry, can’t hear you over the water.” He thrust his hands underneath the spray, hoping the frigid temperature would cool him down. “Be done in a minute.” Or five minutes. Because the longer he stayed in the bathroom, the more likely it was that Mitchell would need Simon for something and he’d have to rush off. Ricky had latched onto that strategy when he realized that the too tall, too broad, too gruff, too serious Alpha came after Simon when he was out of his sight for any length of time. The guy was terrifying, but Simon glowed in his presence and moved toward him instead of flinching away, so Ricky had to assume he was happy with his mate.

Ricky would have been happy too, not if he was mated to the stoic, gargantuan Mitchell, but if he was with his own mate. He closed his eyes and remembered Morgan’s kind face, his gentle touch, his warm voice.

“I need to talk to you about something.”

“Ah!” Ricky jumped, not expecting Simon to be so close.

“Didn’t mean to scare you,” he said apologetically.

Taking a deep breath, Ricky turned off the water and looked toward the bathroom doorway where Simon stood.

“I, uh,” he glanced around, “I guess I’m done.” Wiping his hands on his sweatpants, he took a deep breath and then picked up The Baby.

Watching him wearily, Simon stepped back, giving Ricky space to leave the bathroom. “I have something to ask you.”

“Okay.” Ricky tried not to sound impatient, but he wanted Simon to leave so he could go back to… Well, there wasn’t anything he needed to do, but he wanted to be alone anyway.

“Do you want to sit down?” Simon tipped his chin toward the bed.

“I’m fine.” Sitting down implied a long conversation, which was the opposite of what he wanted in that he wanted no conversation, so he’d keep standing even if what he actually wanted was to burrow under the blanket with The Baby.

Sighing, Simon walked over to the window and then sat in the rocking chair that had been added to the room after The Baby was born. Forearms propped on his knees, he clasped his fingers together and looked at Ricky expectantly.

“Sorry.” Realizing how ungrateful and rude he was being, Ricky lowered his gaze. His entire life, he had smiled in the background, happy to support others but not standing out himself. While he remained in the background in the sense that he stayed in his room, that good-natured guy who gained satisfaction from helping his pack was now replaced with a basket case whose mood swung from angry to despondent to frustrated to exhausted in the span of a minute. The Baby gurgled in his arms and Ricky pulled him against his chest and blinked away tears. “I’m really sorry. I appreciate everything you’ve—”

“It’s okay.” Simon sighed. “From the darkness under your eyes, I can’t imagine you’re getting much sleep, and we know you’re barely eating because you never come downstairs, and when someone brings you food, they see that most of it is still there when they come get it.”

“They’re spying on me?” Ricky snapped angrily.

“We’re all worried about you, so we’re paying attention.”

With a dip of his head, Ricky shuffled to the bed and sat down. He kept his gaze lowered and tried to even out his breathing. “Sorry,” he said yet again.