Mated To My Obsessive Stepbrother

Chapter 301

Chapter 301

KESTER.

1 pulled into the driveway like I had a fucking purpose.

Because I did.

My guards straightened the second my car rolled to a stop. I didn't wait for them to salute or do the whole formal protocol bullshit -I rolled down the window halfway and barked, "Empty the trunk. Everything. Take it inside, now."

They moved fast, reaching for the trunk, but even they had to pause for a second when they opened it.

Yeah.

That shit was full.

I'd gone overboard, and I didn't give a single fuck. If anything, I was pissed I hadn't gotten more.

I had an idea what pregnancy does to women, messing with their appetite and all that. So, I was prepared.

There were grocery bags packed with everything she'd ever so much as glanced at. Her favorite chocolate chip cookies-the specific ones with sea salt flakes on top that only one damn bakery in town got right. I bought the whole shelf.

Snack packs of dried mangoes, that exact brand of spicy trail mix she claimed made her lips "tingle just right."

A box of imported instant noodles from Korea she once mentioned in passing while scrolling on her phone.

Even the stupid purple yogurt she liked that I used to make fun of her for? Bought a dozen.

"Be gentle with that top bag," I warned one of them, "Her strawberry licorice is in there. If it's crushed, you'll be mopping floors for

a month."

a really young, vibrant boy, opened another bag and blinked. "Is this... garlic butter

at both. There's also that garlic bread from the place that gives you two dips. She liked the spicy one last time she tried

a guard? I'd never spoken more than three or four words at most to him

into something I didn't recognize

don't give a fuck. She could turn

the place downtown that had the lavender frosting she liked to lick off with her finger before eating

her

I added a tablet-something light and easy to use if

home for quite a while, and she'd need to

1/3

Chapter 301.

out of the car, rolling my shoulders, the cool night air

one of the guards, pointing at

Velour, that stupidly expensive brand she followed

I'd seen the way her eyes sparkle rings, the little moonstone anklet I

the minimalist bought the full fucking

of them asked when we entered the living

eyes scanned the place. She must

the dining table. Food, too. Don't mix

"Yes, Alpha.

20

kept unloading: three different takeouts-Thai, Mexican, sushi, because I wasn't sure what her "appetite mess" actually meant and I wasn't about to guess wrong. Bottled fruit teas, her favorite iced coffee, the pink lemonade that only one brand made ist right. A box of strawberries. A bag of powdered sugar donuts. Even the weird pickle-flavored chips I hated smelling. The guards were finishing up, dropping the last of the food on the dining table, when I noticed the faintest trace of her scent drifting into the living room from upstairs.

processing what she was looking at. I could see the confusion and surprise on her

she look even

now; the weight gain from the pregnancy made her look fuller in all the right ways. More curves, more

took in the scene. The entire fucking living

like she was

it.