Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

#Chapter 247 – Reunion

Bridgette is standing in the doorway with a bag pressed tightly to her chest, Alvin’s hand held tightly in her own. Her lovely blond hair is golden in the backlit glow from the porch light. “Um,” she says, giving us all an awkward little smile. “Does anyone want some ice cream? Alvin and I made a…pitstop.”

Rafe just stares at her, struck dumb by something – her beauty, his own fear of losing her again, his guilt perhaps? I look between the two of them, assessing, but luckily Ian comes to all of our aid.

“I want ice cream!” He calls, jumping off the couch and rushing towards Bridgette. “What kind did you get?” he asks, pulling at the bag in her arms and not bothering to say hello. “Did you get rocky road? You didn’t get strawberry, did you?”

Bridgette laughs, her face lighting up, and begins to answer his questions.

I blink, coming back to myself, and walk warmly over to her.

“Ian,” I scold, frowning at him. “Do we interrogate people about their ice cream when they come into our house? Or do we say hello?”

“Oops,” he says, giving me a little grimace. Then he gives Bridgette a bright smile. “Welcome home, auntie!” he says, wrapping his arms around her waist as she laughs and pats his back. Alvin takes the opportunity to steal the back of ice cream, absconding with it to the kitchen, where he puts it on the table and climbs up next to it like an eager little monkey.

I watch him, laughing a little as he pulls the cartons out and places them on the table. I should scold him too for climbing on the table, but he’s just so funny.

“Hey!” Ian shouts, realizing that the ice cream is gone. He spies his brother taking the advantage and runs over to the table to join him.

“Wash your hands!” I call out to them as I close the door behind Bridgette. “Spoons! Bowls! Paper towels! We are not eating our ice cream with our fingers tonight!”

The boys shout their assent and continue their work. I wrap my arm around Bridgette’s waist, bringing her in and giving her another warm smile, hoping she knows that she’s safe and welcome here. She gives me an anxious smile in return, glancing towards Rafe, who hasn’t moved.

ice cream, Bridgette,” I say. “You

out my plan. “I don’t think Alvin was going to let me not stop for ice

I say, pretending to be wistful as I look towards my

a compelling arm around my waist. “Come on, Evelyn,” he says, tugging

Bridgette’s side, but Victor gives me a look. Come on, Evie, he says sternly into my mind. It’s their relationship, let them figure it

realizing that he’s right, of course. I am, perhaps – just perhaps! – getting too involved in what is really their affair and their choice. My heart is in the right place but…it’s time to

pull me away. “We’ll be right over here,” I whisper, nodding

and pulls me off my feet then, sweeping me up into his arms as he did

even though I know it’s fruitless. “You can’t just carry me away when I’m being bossy!

in his lap. “That’s my right, as the Alpha. 50/50 tiebreaker decisions go to you, carrying-away-overwrought-Lunas goes to me.”

the kitchen, where the boys are sitting on the table digging into the ice cream and Bridgette is

behind my ear and whispering so only I can hear him. “I am the boss, and one day I’m going to turn you into my perfect, obedient little Luna, who obeys my

turn to glare at him playfully. “Don’t get your hopes up on that one, kid,”

kisses discretely along the length of my neck. “I can find ways to make you

newly intrigued. He traces his lips across the skin of my shoulder, just barely using the edge of his teeth to press a sharp line

face to him, my eyelids low as I take in the shape of his lips, the hard line of his jaw. I lean forward, then, ready to press

realizing what he’s doing. “You’re – you’re using your wiles!

open my mouth to protest, intending to stay at Bridgette’s side, but Victor gives me a look. Come on, Evie, he says

get to my feet. But he just tightens his arms and pulls me back into his lap.

he’s going to let me go free. “You’re using my attraction to you against me – your wiles!

He asks, tilting his head as he considers my word choice. “I was thinking rugged, handsome, maybe roguish