Filed To Story: Falling for the Alpha as a Surrogate Novel
I turn to look at Conner, my eyebrows raised
“No,” Conner says, nodding and smiling a little in recognition of the graciousness of the invitation. “I’m fine over here,” he gestures towards a little couch in the corner of the room, where he’ll be close enough to protect me but far enough to give us our privacy.
Calvin nods to him and Conner moves away. I smile a little as I sit.
“Honestly,” Calvin says, his voice hesitating a little, “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”
“I’m sorry I’m late,” I say, though… well, I’m not really sorry, am I? My mate needed a little reassurance and I’m happy to give it to him, even if it’s at Calvin’s expense.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, peering at me, truly trying to assess what he can do to make me comfortable. “I know that nine in the evening is late for a dinner in your culture -”
I smile at him, pleased at his solicitousness – because I honestly get the imp**ssion that this dinner so that we can talk, but if I’m hungry? He wants me to eat.
“Actually, I am a little hungry,” I say, leaning forward with a laugh. “And thirsty, if there’s more wine.”
“Always more wine,” he murmurs, raising a hand and signaling to a waiter I didn’t see. The waiter comes forward and fills a waiting glass for me.
“I haven’t had much to drink lately,” I say quietly, raising the glass to my l*ps and savoring the taste of the rich red. ” But one can’t hurt, can it?”
“Can’t hurt what?” Calvin asks, leaning forward in his curiosity. He frowns at me, genuinely not getting it.
“The baby,” I say, looking at him like it’s obvious while he takes a long sip of his drink. “Rafe’s only a few months old – I’m still br***tfeeding, Calvin
And then I stop, and burst into laughter, because Calvin chokes a little on his wine and turns beet red.
“Seriously?” I say, leaning forward, unable to stop my grin. “Is that should I not have said that? Is that embarrassing for you?”
He clears his throat and looks down at the table, embarrassed, though I see him smiling and shaking his head. “No, Highness, it’s -”
“Ella,” I correct, my voice pleading.
“Ella,” he says, looking up at me a little now, growing more comfortable. ” It’s just honestly, I’ve never heard a woman say that before.”
“Really?” I say, leaning forward and looking at him with wide eyes, setting my glass down on the table next to me. “I mean, did you know – ”
“Of course I know,” he says, laughing and rolling his eyes at me. “I understand the mechanics of how young babies are fed, it’s just…” he leans back, running a hand through his hair, “honestly, Ella, women in my world never, ever talk to men about that sort of thing. And it’s not that I agree with that, or think they shouldn’t I was just…surprised.”
Slowly, I shake my head at him, holding his eyes. “You know I think that’s crazy, right?”
He laughs, nodding, and I laugh with him.
“I do know that,” Calvin says on a sigh. “And I agree. It is…crazy, that in my world women and men are so separate. It is something which I’d like to see changed, but which is so ingrained in our culture that it’s going to take generations to really shift.”
I nod, understanding. And then I tilt my head at him, interested to see how easy this conversation already is. Because even if we’re talking about a really complicated subject that’s difficult for him? The way that we’re talking – it’s like speaking with an old friend, someone I’ve known my whole life.
I’m not surprised for a moment, then, when the conversation from there flows easily. Calvin asks questions about my life and I tell him everything, readily, easily – all about Cora, and my sweet baby Rafe, and growing up in the orphanage and the strange way I met my mate. Some details I keep back – he doesn’t need to know all about my powers, or the fact that my mother is a deity – but the rest? The rest I share.
It doesn’t pass my attention that he moves on readily whenever I begin to speak about Sinclair, but honestly? I don’t ask a whole lot about his wife. And I wonder at myself there, trying to figure out what part of me is holding back. Because I am interested in her fascinated, really, dying to know – but for some reason?
Somehow, I just don’t ask.
We go for hours, learning a great deal more about each other. Food comes, and we eat it, and I’m sure that it’s good but honestly I don’t know if I taste it because I’m lost in this conversation, which contains a great deal of laughter and joy.
When a clock in the corner chimes midnight, though, my jaw drops open. ” Has it really been that long?” I say, marveling and shaking my head at my companion – my friend now, undeniably.
Calvin grimaces a little. “We have a saying,” he says with a shrug, “that mice wait for good friends lose themselves in each other, and that’s when they eat all the grain.”
“Really?” I say, wrinkling my nose, charmed a bit.
“Yes,” he says, leaning back and laughing. “So, when you have a mouse problem in your home, people dismiss it as a sign of a house full of friendship and laughter.”
“Oh,” I say, smiling now and nodding. “Like how we say it’s good luck, if a bird poops on you.”
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?