Page 15 of Alpha's Secret Baby

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Page 15 of Alpha's Secret Baby

Bert’s eyebrows shot up.

I explained hastily, “I just think everyone will be suspicious. Given she’s six years old, I don’t want questions asked about her paternity. I’ve worked too hard for her to have a normal life. I don’t want her to have to go through tests if the pack orders me to prove her parentage.”

Nerves climbed in me despite my careful breathing as I watched Bert consider my request, but my friend soon rewarded me with his reassuring smile. “Your secret’s safe with me. Youhaveworked hard to build your own life.” He looked around the room. “This place, this home, it’s incredible.” I looked around fondly at the cream-colored walls, too, filled with photos of me and Fern and a few pictures of me at a couple of me at fashion shows. “I’m so proud of you, Cherry Berry.”

A grin spread across my face as he used one of his nicknames which I hadn’t heard since we were pups together.

As I realized how much I’d shared about my life over the last half hour and how little I’d found out about Bert’s, I suggested, “Stay for dinner. I’m going to order take out, and I still need to hear all your gossip.”

He settled back into the sofa, looking quietly pleased. “I’d love to.”

I beamed before warning him. “Although you’ll have to prepare yourself for the firecracker. Pizza and Bert, all in the same night, is gonna make her sky high.”

He chuckled. “I can take it.”

After thanking and sending our nanny, Lara, home, I shared tonight’s dinner plans with Fern. As predicted, she soon joined Bert in the living room and was literally jumping for joy.

Once I’d placed an order over the phone for two dairy-free pizzas, Fern was back to exclaiming, “Omg, omg, omg!”

“I think we broke her,” Bert joked in mock-alarm. “She’s not making any sense. Do you know if there’s a reboot button on this thing?” He mimed, trying to press the center of Fern’s head, then her nose, and provoking another series of giggles from her.

Her excitement and my friend’s humor were infectious, and I joked, “You should be honored she’s using text speech. Most nights, she communicates in emojis.” I did my best array of silly faces, and both Fern and Bert were in stitches.

“Too good, Cherry,” Bert said.

When the pizza arrived, we all settled down on big cushions at the coffee table, swiping slices right out of the box and onto our plates. Bert and I indulged in a glass of wine while I treated Fern to a glass of soda.

The light-hearted atmosphere wrapped around us as cozily as the softly lit walls of my apartment, and I couldn’t remember the last time we’d had such a wonderful evening.

Clearly, my daughter’s thoughts traveled along a similar train of thought because she surprised me by asking, “Can you be my dad, Bert?”

I saw the mirth bubbling in my friend’s eyes, but I focused my attention on Fern and explained, “Bert’s my friend, Sweetie, but he can’t be your dad. But he is going to visit us more often, aren’t you, Bert?”

He smiled. “Wild dogs couldn’t keep me away.”

I rolled my eyes at his shifter joke but observed Fern’s disappointment fall over her face.

Trying to distract her, I suggested, “Bert heard about your Star of the Week Certificate. Want to go get it for him?”

Fern nodded, her dark eyes hovering hopefully on Bert as she smiled and shot off to get her award. My heart lurched in my chest as I contemplated that longing look on my little girl’s face.

I realized Bert was watching me closely.

“Sorry, it’s tough on her,” I said. “Sometimes, I wish she had more than me.”

Bert’s eyes were somber. “She does seem to really want a father figure. Have you…” He hesitated. “Are you seeing anyone?”

My stomach twisted uncertainly. I sighed. “I’m seeing someone, but it’s still early days. I’m still not sure how I feel about him, to be honest.” At the thought of Carl, I realized I should probably call him later, to let him know I’d be out of the city for a week. Especially given his declaration the other night.

Wanting to deflect the attention away from myself, I asked, “What about you? Anyone special?”

Bert chortled. “I lived with Amy for a couple of years.”

“I always liked Amy,” I said, picturing the feisty, dark-haired, athletic young woman from our pack.

Bert nodded. “Amy’s great, but after two years, we realized we wanted different things. She’s more of the city, ambitious sort.” With a laugh, he acknowledged, “a bit like you, I guess. Whereas I just want a simple life in Lord Hills.” He sighed. “After a few arguments about me not being ambitious enough, we parted ways.”

I nodded. “The most important thing is to be true to yourself. The right wolf is out there for you; you’ll find her.” I wanted to say more. I wished we had more time to chat. I knew how hard it had been putting a year into trying in my relationship with Dylan, trying to mold myself into what I thought he wanted, only to come out the other side rejected by him. At least what Bert had said earlier was true. I would have more time to spend with my friend by visiting Lord Hills. With a tumult of surprise, I realized I was looking forward to that aspect, to spending quality time and chatting with my oldest friend.




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