Page 39 of Impregnated By the Alpha

“What would you give it out of ten?” Moira asked.

“Ten, for sure.” Jonah swallowed and speared the next sample.

“Don’t flatter me, Jonah,” she warned, “I need serious feedback to improve.”

“I’d never,” he promised. “I know how important this place is to you. This one needs a little something. Maybe more lemon. It’s tart, but I’d want it to be more sour with the frosting, you know?”

Jotting down his notes, she realized he’d meant what he’d said as he worked his way through the rest of the flavors, giving both feedback and praise in equal parts. No one had ever taken her baking seriously before. To Vera, it had been a hobby Moira had gotten too invested in, and to the rest of the town, it was just the local bakery, worth a stop when you had a sweet tooth but not a destination in itself. Moira was going to change that.

“Any more?” Jonah asked, scraping the empty plate. He rubbed his stomach even though she knew it was still perfectly flat and muscular under there. “I was just getting started.”

Moira cleared the table and started to close up the bakery for the night. “Next time I’m testing out a new recipe, I’ll call you. If I ask Vera to do it, she just has to remind me how ‘not a career’ this is between every bite.”

Jonah held the door for her, and she stepped outside, locking the bakery behind her. After the rain and storms over the past few weeks, having a pleasant, sunny evening was a rare treat.

“It must be hard to have a sister like that. Or any sister, actually,” he added. “I’m an only child.”

“Sometimes I really envy you for that,” Moira laughed.

She couldn’t imagine her life without Vera. As much as they butted heads, there was a bond between them that drew them back together every time. Cracks ran through the entire foundation of their relationship, but it would never shatter. She knew that.

“It was a little lonely sometimes. That’s why when I met Devon, it felt like finding the brother I’d never had. I followed him anywhere.” He sounded wistful.

“So you joined the White Winter pack for him, even though you didn’t really fit in there.” Moira could understand that.

She’d loved the Silversand pack, the runs over the beach, and the sea salt in her fur, and adjusting to the Rosewoods had been a struggle at first.

Jonah nodded. “Yup. I don’t regret it. He needed help, and I was there for him. His sister is a real piece of work, too, actually. Maybe it’s a sister thing.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners, and he pushed his hands into his pockets. There was something there, some history with Devon’s sister. She could hear it in his tone and how he stared down at the sidewalk when he spoke of her.

She should’ve just left it alone, but she couldn’t stop herself. Imagining Jonah with another woman brought out an unpleasant feeling in her stomach, a gnawing sensation. “Did you love her?”

To her surprise, he laughed. “No, but I cared for her more than she ever cared for me. In a way, it wasn’t her fault. She was messed up, and it was her way of coping, but… I just ended up feeling kind of used. Like my feelings for her were genuine, but hers were just for her amusement.”

Moira looped her arm through his and pulled him closer. She didn’t like the pain that cracked his voice. It made her want to march over to the White Winters and confront that woman. “I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, but it’s in the past now.” He rolled his shoulders like he was shaking off the memory. “Where am I taking you tonight?”

“Oh, actually, to the Rosewood green. There’s a meeting tonight.” She shook the cookie tin tucked under her free arm. “They still haven’t caught that vandal.”

The streets of Rosewood were decorated for fall with wreaths of leaves wrapped around the street lamps and pumpkins on every corner. Every storefront had gone all out for the season with their window displays, everything from headless horsemen to scarecrows behind the glass, prepared for the annual competition. Moira loved the way everyone leaned into it. It felt like being inside one of the movies she’d watched as a child.

“Any new leads?” Jonah asked, cutting across the street toward the sprawling central green.

It was only half finished but would boast a carriage complete with a skeletal horse and a jack-o-lantern driver, gravestones, and eerie lighting once it was completed. Moira had volunteered to bake festive treats for the upcoming festival and was already planning out the shapes she’d cut the cookies into, ghosts and cats and bats.

“No,” she said, straightening a leaning tombstone. “Whoever it is, they’re crafty.”

“We’ll catch them.” His jaw was set, the shadow deep beneath his cheekbone.

She hoped it was true, even as she doubted it. Whoever it was, they seemed to be able to move seamlessly between the two packs unnoticed. It was hard not to be suspicious of everyone when it seemed likely that it was one of their own to blame.

The Rosewoods were gathered near the tree. Sparkling orange lights were draped from its branches, flickering like candles. Jonah pulled to a stop before they got too close and slipped his arm free from Moira’s. She wanted to pull him closer, wanted him to lean down and kiss her right there, wanted to drag him home to her bed. His hands flexed, and she wondered if he was fighting the same impulse she was.

“Well, good night, Moira. Be careful out there.” He touched her cheek, and she leaned into his palm, savoring the fleeting contact. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” she agreed, watching him go.

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