Page 18 of Bully Alpha's Pregnant Mate

I manage to shake off the residue of Molly’s words as I continue down Main Street, though her smug smirk and thinly veiled jabs still linger, annoying as ever. She has no idea who Iam now—or so I remind myself with every step. Still, a spark of satisfaction hits when I spot a chalkboard sign outside the local bookshop:

Help Wanted: Part-Time.

A bookstore! I could practically cry with relief. Growing up, I must’ve spent half my life finding sanctuary between the shelves and all their worlds tucked inside paperback covers.

The bell chimes as I push open the door, breathing in the familiar smell of paper and coffee from the café in the back. And despite everything, a smile tugs at my lips.

“Hello?” I call out, scanning the rows of bookshelves and displays, each one more enticing than the last.

A middle-aged woman with gray-streaked hair pops her head up from behind the counter. “Welcome! Can I help you?”

“Yes,” I say, trying not to sound desperate. “I just saw the Help Wanted sign. Are you still looking for someone?”

She perks up immediately, smiling as she straightens. “Oh, wonderful! We’ve had a few people apply, but most haven’t been… well, you know. Not many people around here know their Tolstoy from their Tolkien.” She chuckles. “But if you’re interested, I’d love to chat.”

She ushers me over to the counter, and as we start talking, I feel my spirits lift. This place is perfect—the rows of shelves, the small reading corner, the way the light filters in through the old windows. I can already imagine myself here, surrounded by books and doing something that actually feels right.

Just as she’s explaining the hours, the bell chimes again, and I catch a glimpse of someone entering. “Sorry, one sec,” she says, glancing up.

I freeze as a familiar figure steps through the door—tall, with that easy confidence that still annoys me as much as it used to. Alec. Great.

He meets my gaze and grins, a look that’s equal parts mischief and challenge. “Isadora,” he drawls, strolling over with that infuriating smirk. “Fancy seeing you here.”

“Likewise,” I say wryly. “Are you here to buy a book on charm, or just here to ruin my day?”

The woman behind the counter chuckles, oblivious to the tension simmering between us. “Oh, he doesn’t need to buy anything. He owns the place.”

My eyes snap to Alec, narrowing. “You… own this bookstore?”

“Surprised?” He looks pleased with himself. “Picked it up a couple of years ago. My niece loves to read, so I figured why not give her a whole bookstore to browse?”

Of course. Alec Thornton, not just the town’s alpha, but now apparently the benevolent patron of bookworms everywhere.

I roll my eyes, trying to ignore the wave of disappointment crashing over me. “So, let me guess… this means my job prospects here just hit rock-bottom?”

“Oh, you want the job?” He laughs, folding his arms. “Now, now, don’t be dramatic. Who says I won’t hire you?”

“Oh, please.” I level him with a glare. “You’d probably make it a condition that I wear some ridiculous ‘Alec’s Biggest Fan’ t-shirt while I’m here.”

He pretends to consider it, tapping his chin. “Actually, that’s not a terrible idea.” Then he grins, his gaze holding minewith that infuriating confidence that always manages to get under my skin. “But no, I think I’ll make it simpler.”

I arch an eyebrow. “Simpler how?”

He leans in, dropping his voice just low enough that the woman behind the counter won’t hear. “Go out with me. One date. And the job’s yours.”

I let out a disbelieving laugh, taking a step back. “You’ve got to be kidding me. We’re married, Alec. Why do you care so much about a date?”

“Come on.” He shrugs, feigning innocence. “I’m making things easy for you. Your job hunt is officially over.”

Something in his tone—it’s playful, sure, but there’s that undercurrent of challenge there, too. It’s like he’s daring me, testing me. And thanks to Molly’s little “pep talk” earlier, I’m already wound tight. I’ve had just about enough of being pushed around for one day.

“Fine,” I say, surprising even myself. “One date.”

His eyes widen a fraction. I’ve clearly caught him off-guard. He didn’t expect me to agree so fast. “That’s… great.” He recovers quickly, his smirk reappearing. “Tomorrow night?”

“Sure,” I reply. “Just don’t expect me to fall for your charm.”

He chuckles, stepping back. “Wouldn’t dream of it.” But as he glances over his shoulder, I catch that familiar gleam in his eye. He thinks he’s won this round. Well, he’s in for a surprise.

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