Page 51 of Healed in the Alpha's Embrace
“Mom,” Noah groaned lightly, scowling playfully. “Don’t embarrass me.”
“Embarrass you?” She chuckled, shaking her head at him. “Go, sit down. Heather and I will be right back.” She tugged at Heather’s sleeve, guiding her towards the pastry counter. “I’ll make sure to get something decadent,” Angela called after us, her laughter trailing in the air.
That left me alone with Noah. I wiped my clammy palms on my dress, a pointless gesture since it only drew his attention.
“You look nice,” he said, his gaze appreciative but not intrusive.
“Thanks,” I muttered, heat climbing up my neck until my cheeks burned. I busied myself with rearranging the cutlery on my empty plate, avoiding his gaze. I hated that his compliment left me feeling like a smitten teenager.
“Didn’t mean to interrupt your brunch,” he continued, watching me closely.
“Heather and I were just talking,” I said, sounding steadier than I felt. I couldn’t exactly tell him we’d been discussing him, so I blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “About... life. Plans.”
“Plans?”
I hesitated, self-doubt whispering in my ear. But Noah waited, patient and seemingly interested. “Before George,” I said, the name tasting bitter, “I got a degree in computer programming.”
“Really?” His eyebrows arched in surprise.
“Yeah,” I said, feeling a small surge of pride. “Been a while since I coded anything, though. I was thinking about maybe taking some refresher courses.”
“That’s a great idea.”
“Do you really think so?” I met his gaze, expecting derision. To my relief, I saw genuine interest there.
“Absolutely. Dip your toe back in the pool.”
We talked more about the idea, about where I could start, then the conversation moved to childhood memories. The afternoon sun filtered through the bakery windows, casting a warm glow on the table where Noah and I sat. I hadn’t felt so comfortable in a while.
“Tell me another one,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Okay, but you asked for it.” My words tumbled out as I recounted a story of my and Heather’s childhood escapades.
He burst out laughing, and for a moment, I saw myself the way he did: vibrant, fearless, unbroken.
“You were quite the handful, weren’t you?” he remarked.
“Guilty as charged. But life wasn’t all pranks and laughter. Sam never had it easy with me,” I said, tracing the rim of my coffee cup as memories swirled like the steam rising from the dark liquid. “I guess you could say I was always on the defense, wary because of... well, my father.”
Noah nodded, his blue eyes reflecting a sea of understanding. “You were protecting yourself. It’s natural.”
“Maybe too natural,” I said, a rueful smile flickering across my face. “I tested Sam every chance I got. Like this one time...” I hesitated, unsure if I should share the memory.
He leaned back in his chair with an expectant grin. “Go on.”
“Okay, so Sam had this prized pen, a fancy, expensive one a client gave him. He was so proud of it, bragging about it to anyone who’d listen.” I shook my head, almost bursting into laughter at the thought. “One day, I decided to switch it out with a cheap replica.”
“What happened?”
“Let’s just say Sam didn’t appreciate the prank as much as I did. He was furious when the ink exploded all over his hands during a meeting.”
Noach chuckled. “Exploding ink?”
“Yep. His face matched the ink by the end of it.” Warmth bloomed inside me as I watched him.
“And then what?”
“Something shifted. He could’ve scolded me—punished me, even—but he didn’t. He just asked why I did it.”
