Accidental Surrogate for Alpha

Chapter 285

Chapter 285 – A Long 2 1/2 Months

Ella

One and a half months later, and I’m gigantic.

Gigantic.

“Five months wolf pregnant,” I mutter, stirring my yogurt with a little silver spoon, “is about thirteen months human pregnant.” Leaning back against my pillows, I raise the spoon to my mouth, but hesitate before taking a bite.

“What?” Sinclair asks, glancing at me from his spot on the bed, where he’s reading some reports on his tablet. “Has it gone sour?”

“No,” I murmur, stabbing the spoon back into the cup. “I’m just afraid if I eat another bite, this baby is going to get even bigger.”

“Good!” Sinclair declares, grinning at my swollen belly and reaching out a fond hand to rub my baby bump. “Let him get big and strong before he’s born, that way he can come out running and we can play football within a week

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“Absolutely not,” I snap, giving him a little glare and hoping to hell that he’s kidding. “I am not growing you a linebacker, Dominic, so get that right out of your head.”

Sinclair chuckles and puts his tablet aside, moving lower on the bed to press his ear to my. stomach just above where the baby has settled. “What’s that, little Rafe?” he asks, loud enough for me to hear. I twist my lips and shake my head a little, knowing this is all for my benefit anyway. If he wanted to talk to Rafe, he could just do it through his bond. “You’re perfectly comfortable in there and want to go to full term so you can get big and strong?”

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or a foot – across my skin, right where Sinclair’s face is. Sinclair kisses the spot where the baby presses and I feel a little thrill

not true, Rafe,” I say aloud, stroking the sides of my stomach, which looks honestly like I’ve swallowed

to stretch. “See?” I say, raising my eyebrow at Sinclair as he

belly one last pat. “We’ll see what Cora and Hank say this

“Really?” I ask, excited.

“It’s

quarter moon goddess…he’ll come fast, and leave me

to help me to my feet. I accept readily and head to the closet, eager to get out of my pajamas and

with how well

a clean top and stretchy pants, I consider whether I complain too much about this final stretch of my pregnancy. It’s not that it’s not that I’m not enjoying being pregnant – I have loved every minute of feeling my little boy

―

that he’s Sinclair’s baby now. He is heavy, and he presses on my back, and my ankles are swollen, and I can’t find

in many ways feels like the end of a wonderful vacation where you start to think about how nice it will be to go back home. I sigh and lean down to pick out a pair of sneakers but stop, suddenly, when I realize that I can’t bend down far enough over my belly to grab them. So I straighten, glare at the shoes, and then kick them out of the closet so that they spill onto the

of our bedroom.

Sinclair is looking towards the closet, his eyebrows

those?” I ask with a big smile. “I need

shoes as I go to sit on the bed. “Sure thing, Cinderella,” he smirks, kneeling down on one knee and

us right back to a private exam room. I look around the crowded waiting room, opening my mouth to protest that we shouldn’t be seen before all of these women who have been so patient, but Sinclair presses

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