Chapter 298 Home with Baby Ella
I hear Sinclair sigh heavily next to me, murmuring “Ella…”
But I ignore him, my eyes fasted on Hank, who blushes a deep red at the door and looks down at his shoes. I don’t say a word, though, or make this any easier on him. Instead, I wait patiently for an answer.
“Cora is,” he murmurs, awkward, “very special to me…
“I would imagine so,” I reply, my voice harder than I think I expected it to be. “She’s a very special person.”
Hank sighs and raises his eyes seriously to mine. I hold his gaze steadily.
“I’m very serious about Cora,” he says evenly. “I want to build a life with her. But we are moving…slowly. We both want to make sure that this is right.”
My heart warms when I hear him say that he wants to build a life with her, but still – what does that mean? I hold my baby closer to me and shift in my seat.
“And do you want to have childre-”
“Ella!” Sinclair bursts in, his voice angry, a hand on my arm.
“What!” I cry, turning to him with a frown. “It’s a legitimate question!”
“It’s none of your business!” He hisses back to me, his eyes wide and appalled.
–
my sister’s business is
My frown deepens as I open my mouth to object to my mate business, after all – but Hank clears his throat, bringing my attention back to him.
my “If there’s nothing else,” he says, his eyes flicking between Sinclair and I now, clearly hoping
that my questioning is at an end. I sigh, nodding, as Sinclair speaks.
“Thank you, doctor,” he says with finality, letting Sinclair know he’s free from my interrogation. “We’ll look forward to seeing you soon.” (1
I scowl as Hank leaves the room, my eyes on my baby.
“Ella,” Sinclair says slowly, admonishing. I look into his eyes, still mad.
“We need to know, Sinclair. She’s not with Roger because she thinks he wants children they can’t have. If Hank also isn’t on the same page with her about kids, then what’s the point?”
Sinclair’s eyes go up in surprise as he processes this information. “And what’s Cora’s page about kids?” he asks. “Does she want them?”
“Does Roger?” I ask, still bristling that he didn’t let me get information that I very much wanted.
He frowns a little, staring into space and considering it. “Actually, I don’t know…” He brings his eyes back to me, though. “Either way, that’s a conversation between Cora and Roger. Or Cora and Hank. Or…whoever.”
“And me,” I murmur, settling back onto the pillows. “If they’re all too stupid enough to not talk to each other about it, then I am going to talk about it.”
“Trouble is as trouble does,” Sinclair sighs, leaning back on the chair. “I guess I shouldn’t have expected any different.”
“Damn straight,” I murmur in response, smiling down at my baby. Then, I kiss him on his little head. “Don’t worry, baby,” I whisper to him. “I’ll teach you my troublesome ways. And then we’ll torture daddy together.”
Sinclair huffs a little laugh in his chair, but doesn’t bother to counter me. He knows it would be a waste of breath.
Sinclair lays behind me, my body pressed tight against his. He is propped up on his arm as he looks over me and into the bassinet at my side. I, too, look down at the sleeping baby.
“I think he’s like, really cute,” I whisper, considering him carefully.
Sinclair laughs lightly, careful not to wake him. “Of course he is.”
“No,” I say, not taking my eyes from my son. “Like, really cute. Like way cuter than most babies. And that’s not just me being his mom – I think he’s objectively…really cute.”
“He takes after his mother,” Sinclair says, laughing lightly and letting his head fall down onto the pillow, closing his eyes. I snuggle down next to him, still looking at my sleeping son.
“Yes, after me,” I murmur, pleased and a little teasing.
“So he’s cute,” Sinclair whispers. “And he’ll be trouble.”
“No,” I say, feeling myself drift off to sleep. “He’ll be perfect.”
“We’ll just see about that,” Sinclair murmurs, his breathing already deepening as he drifts off.
Fifteen minutes later, Rafe chooses a side.
And, unfortunately for me, he chooses trouble.
And he cries.
All. Night. Long.
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