Chapter 297 – Home with Baby

Ella

I hear Sinclair sigh heavily next to me, murmuring “Ella…”

But I ignore him, my eyes fasted on Hank, who blushes a deep red at the door and looks down at his shoes. I don’t say a word, though, or make this any easier on him. Instead, I wait patiently for an answer.

“Cora is,” he murmurs, awkward, “very special to me…

“I would imagine so,” I reply, my voice harder than I think I expected it to be. “She’s a very special person.”

Hank sighs and raises his eyes seriously to mine. I hold his gaze steadily.

“I’m very serious about Cora,” he says evenly. “I want to build a life with her. But we are moving…slowly. We both want to make sure that this is right.”

My heart warms when I hear him say that he wants to build a life with her, but still – what does that mean? I hold my baby closer to me and shift in my seat.

“And do you want to have childre-”

“Ella!” Sinclair bursts in, his voice angry, a hand on my arm.

“What!” I cry, turning to him with a frown. “It’s a legitimate question!”

“It’s none of your business!” He hisses back to me, his eyes wide and appalled.

my sister’s business is

mouth to object to my mate business, after all – but Hank clears his throat, bringing my attention back to

my

says, his eyes flicking between Sinclair and I now, clearly

is at an end. I sigh, nodding,

he says with finality, letting Sinclair know he’s free from my interrogation. “We’ll look

as Hank leaves the room, my eyes on my

says slowly, admonishing. I look

Sinclair. She’s not with Roger because she thinks he wants children they can’t have.

processes this information. “And what’s Cora’s page about kids?” he

didn’t

wanted.

I don’t know…” He brings his eyes back to me, though. “Either way, that’s

murmur, settling back onto the pillows. “If they’re all too stupid enough to not talk to each other about it, then I am

back on the chair.

baby. Then, I kiss him on his little head. “Don’t worry, baby,” I whisper to him. “I’ll teach you my troublesome ways. And then we’ll torture daddy

bother to counter me. He knows it would be a waste of

home, all three of us exhausted by the activities of the day. But

I see the variety of gift baskets and flowers waiting for us. “Oh,” I say, fascinated,

be presents from friends and well–wishers. See?” He points to one filled with

“Oh, I miss them…” I bite my lip against the sudden rush of feelings, overwhelmed

and moving the baby and I towards the stairs. “We’re way too tired for this – if you get into all these cards now, you’ll cry yourself to

bear!” I cry, looking over my shoulder at it as Sinclair guides me up the stairs, a steady hand on my back. “Rafe’s

will be there in the morning,” Sinclair

shepherded upstairs. When we reach the door to

mate.

exhausted but wanting to be there for me. “What is it

the first time, Dominic. Putting him to sleep

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