Page 31 of Impregnated By the Alpha

Alone, Moira leaned her elbows on the counter and held her head in her hands. She had hoped that just this once, Vera could support her decision without fighting her about it. Instead, she’d sown doubt and made her question everything, and left her with a churning, uneasy feeling in her stomach.

The cake sat half finished, but she couldn’t finish it just then. Instead, she threw together a batch of cookie dough, a heavily spiced gingerbread perfect for the weather. Baking always settled her nerves. Losing herself in the measuring, scooping, and shaping, Moira almost didn’t notice the time.

“Wow, it smells amazing in here.” Jonah came in, carrying two travel cups. “Hope you don’t mind. Brought you a mocha.”

“Oh no,” she said, grabbing the piping bag and turning to finish the cake.

“Is this a bad time?” Jonah asked, setting the coffee down beside her. “Hey, that looks great. I love the pumpkins.”

She finished the text with a flourish and grabbed a box from the counter behind her. It would just fit the cake, but she’d have to be careful.

“I have to get this delivered as of,” she glanced at the clock again, “five minutes ago.”

“Can I help?” Jonah offered.

Moira bit her lip, considering. It would be helpful to have someone to hold the cake as she drove, then she wouldn’t have to worry about it toppling over and getting ruined on the drive.

“Take this,” she said, holding the cake out to him. “Don’t tilt the box. Don’t drop the box. Protect the cake with your life.”

He nodded solemnly. “You got it, boss.”

They made their way out back door, where the bakery’s old, rusted van sat waiting in a small lot. Moira ran ahead and opened the passenger door for him, guiding the box onto his lap before taking her seat on the driver’s side.

“Got it?” Moira asked, putting the van in reverse and easing it out of the lot.

“Got it,” he repeated, hoping it was true. The old van was top-heavy and tilted side to side with every bump in the road. “How far is it, exactly?”

She kept her eyes glued to the road, hands gripping the steering wheel hard. “Just a couple of miles.”

The roads of Silversand were in desperate need of repair, pockmarked with deep potholes and comprised of nothing but curves and switchbacks through the old town. He breathed a sigh of relief when they crossed the border into the Rosewood town, and the roads smoothed out. By the time they came to a stop in front of a banquet hall, Jonah was sweating.

He waited for Moira to let him out. She peered into the box and gave him a terse nod. “Looks alright. Come on, this way.”

They slipped into the back of the banquet hall, decorated with balloons and streamers for the occasion, and deposited the cake with the catering staff. Moira accepted their compliments with a flush in her cheeks.

“Thanks for your help,” Moira said as they walked back to the van.

“We make a good team,” Jonah replied, nudging her with his shoulder.

“I wouldn’t go that far.” Moira shook her head and drove them back to the bakery. “But I appreciate it. Hopefully, that’s the first of many, once word gets out. If they tell a few friends and they tell a few, people will realize the bakery does more than just cookies and pastries.”

Relieved of the guardianship of the cake, Jonah turned his gaze on Moira. She was still high from the reception her cake had received; for once, she didn’t doubt his reasons for staring at her. He was attracted to her. Wanted her, even. She rolled the window down and let the cold wash over her.

“You’ll be a big name in no time. I’ll tell everyone I know. Think you can deliver out in White Winter territory?” Jonah asked.

“Don’t push it,” she warned. “I’ll send my delivery man out there, though.”

Jonah smiled at that. “Happy to serve you, ma’am.”

Her mouth went dry at those words coming from his mouth. She wondered if he’d meant them the way they’d sounded. They conjured up all sorts of images in her mind. Moira cleared her throat, trying to shake the picture of Jonah on his knees out of her head.

She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. “When do you need my help?”

It reminded him of the reason he’d sought her out that afternoon. “Tonight, if you can. The whole pack is gathering to discuss the new alpha, and I need to be there.”

Moira nodded. “I can make it. Where should I meet you?”

They pulled to a stop behind the bakery, and he climbed out of the van and stretched his arms up overhead. He caught Moira’s gaze snagging on the strip of exposed stomach revealed by his lifted shirt before she dragged her eyes back up to his.

---