Surrogate For Alpha Dom

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

My frown deepens as I open my mouth to object to my mate business, after all – but Hank clears his throat, bringing my attention back to him.

says, his eyes

questioning is at an end. I sigh, nodding, as

know he’s free from my interrogation. “We’ll look forward to seeing you soon.” (1

scowl as Hank leaves the room, my eyes

look into his eyes, still

need to know, Sinclair. She’s not with Roger because she thinks he wants children they can’t have. If Hank also isn’t on the same page with her

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

Roger?” I ask, still bristling that he didn’t let me get information that I very much wanted.

considering it. “Actually, I don’t know…” He brings his eyes back to

all too stupid enough to not talk

sighs, leaning back on the chair. “I

“Don’t worry, baby,” I whisper to him. “I’ll teach you

laugh in his chair, but doesn’t bother to

fallen by the time we finally get home, all three of us exhausted by the activities of the day. But Cora

into our home, I gasp a little when I see the variety of gift baskets and flowers waiting for us. “Oh,” I say, fascinated, moving forward to look at them all. Then I look up at my mate. “Did you do all this?” I ask, my

some tags on a few of them. “ They look to be presents from friends and well–wishers. See?” He points to one filled with hand–drawn cards set

I bite my lip against the sudden rush of feelings, overwhelmed by all the love in the room when I’ve been so distracted – I haven’t even kept up with everyone as

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

the stairs, a steady hand on my back. “Rafe’s first teddy – we have to get

the morning,” Sinclair says, steady, yawning. “Now?

upstairs. When we reach the door to our bedroom, though, my eyes fill with tears again as I look up at my

chin between his fingers, exhausted but wanting to be there for me. “What is it this time? What’s wrong?”

Putting him to sleep in

know, he says, simply. And so I rest my body against him – against the warm, steady bulk of him, grateful – again – to have a mate who

to me. And that every moment of it – even one as simple as this is