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.

nothing else,” he says, his eyes

is at an end.

he’s free from my interrogation. “We’ll look forward to seeing you

scowl as Hank leaves the room, my eyes

Sinclair says slowly, admonishing. I look into his eyes, still

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

in surprise as he processes this information. “And what’s Cora’s page

still bristling that he didn’t let me get information that I very

know…” He brings his eyes back to

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

is as trouble does,” Sinclair sighs, leaning back on the chair. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected

in response, smiling down at my baby. Then, I kiss him on his little head. “Don’t worry,

his chair, but doesn’t bother to counter me. He knows it would be

by the time we finally get home, all three of us exhausted by the activities of the day. But Cora finally gave us the go–ahead

for us. “Oh,” I say, fascinated, moving forward to look at them all. Then I look up at my

from friends and well–wishers. See?” He

sharp tears. “Oh, I miss them…” I bite my lip against the sudden rush of feelings, overwhelmed by all the love in the room when I’ve been

the baby and I towards the stairs. “We’re way too tired

over my shoulder at it as Sinclair guides me up the stairs, a steady hand on my back. “Rafe’s

the morning,” Sinclair says,

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

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

I say, my voice trembling a little, looking between him and the baby. “Just…we’re bringing him home for the first time, Dominic. Putting him to

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

every moment of it – even one as simple as