Pregnant With Alpha’s Genius Twins

Chapter 38

#Chapter 38 – Second Date

I twirl my fork in my linguini, sorry to see that it’s the last bite. It was delicious.

“So, did you like your meal?” Edgar asks.

“Yes,” I say, emphatically, scraping the plate with the side of my fork to get the last of the sauce. “It was ama-“

As I raise the fork to my mouth I look at Edgar, seeing him smirking at me, his plate still half-full of his lasagna. I laugh and he joins me. “Well.” I say. “I guess you could tell.” Text © by N0ve/lDrama.Org.

“It’s okay,” he says, smiling indulgently. “I like to see a woman who eats. Do you want some of mine?”

I bite my lip, eyeing his pasta, and he spoons some onto my plate. “Thank you,” I say. “That’s really kind.”

“No worries,” he returns. “We had a really solid lunch today, I’m not even that hungry.”

“I was starving,” I said. “I feel like I’m always too busy to eat – I just get whatever I can grab when the boys are sitting still. A bowl of cereal or a granola bar. A spare fishstick.” I shrug. “Whatever’s around.”

One side of Edgar’s mouth lifts in a smile as he takes me in. “Well,” he says. “We’ll just have to get you out for some quiet time more often.”

I feel heat in my cheeks as I return his smile. “I think I’d like that, Edgar.”

The restaurant which he picked for us is really adorable – a small Italian place that you can tell has been around for generations. Checked table cloths, candlesticks in wine bottles, a little grey-haired lady

rushing around with a ladle in her hand, making sure everything’s in order. Everything you could want for authenticity.

Edgar likewise impresses. I check him out while he returns his attention to his food. The candlelight picks up the depth of his cheekbones, the light stubble growing on his cheeks and his chin. Edgar is brawnier than most Betas – broad-shouldered and thick with muscle. No wonder he’s Victor’s go-to guy.

As I consider him, the grey-haired woman bustles over to our table. “My Edgar!” She says, her Italian accent thick, wrapping her arms around his shoulders for a warm hug.

“Mia Nonna,” Edgar says, laughing and giving her a kiss on each cheek. I watch, surprised and delighted when they start speaking to each other in fluent Italian.

“Nonna,” he says, “I want you to introduce you to Evelyn. She’s a very special person,” Edgar says, turning and gesturing towards me. I put on my best introductory smile and put out my hand but Nonna narrows her eyes at me, frowning.

“My Edgar is very good boy,” she says, shaking her finger at me. “You will be nice to my Edgar.” Edgar laughs and playfully swats at Nonna’s finger.

“Don’t worry, Nonna, she’s very nice.” Nonna’s eyes crease into two little crescent moons as she looks down at him and laugh.

“I joke, Edgar. I very funny.” She comes to my side of the table with her arms open and wraps me in a warm hug as well. “Welcome, Ev-a-lynn. You are welcome anytime.”

“Thank you,” I say, laughing lightly. “You scared me there!” She kisses me on the head, mumbling “Bella donna,” and then shuffles off towards the kitchen.

“Sorry about that,” Edgar says, laughing. “I worked here as a teenager. Nonna and her husband were very good to me while I figured some things out. I actually lived in their attic for a while.”

“I love that have that connection,” I say, smiling broadly. “And thank you for bringing me here, to this place that’s so important to you.”

He reaches across the table and takes my hand. “You’re important to me, Evelyn. That is, of course, if you’d like to be.”

I smile at Edgar and bite my lip, nodding. He squeezes my hand and then reaches for his glass of wine, giving me a toast. I sip from my glass as Edgar launches into a story from his youth, about one morning he didn’t get up early enough to knead the dough and Nonna’s husband had a meltdown about it.

The story is funny and touching, all the things you’d want, but as Edgar talks I find my mind drifting. I stare at his handsome face, his green eyes flashing as he tells his story. My own eyes drift to his full lips, wondering what it would be like to kiss them.

Edgar has been all politeness and deference with me so far. Last time he took me out he dropped me off at my doorstep, kissed my cheek, and walked away without asking for more – a complete gentleman. Part of me enjoys being a princess but…

Well, the other part wants someone who wants to throw me down on the back porch, rip off my clothes, and f**k me until the sun comes up.

Mark was like that. Our connection was instant and fully carnal. We met at a children’s birthday party, of all the inappropriate things, when the twins were invited to tour a fire house and have cake. It was all fine – a little boring, honestly – until I saw Mark in the corner, staring at me, practically licking his chops.

I remember being drawn to him instantly, and resisting because – duh – there were kids everywhere. But the moment a clown came and all the kids sat in a circle to see some magic tricks, I made a

beeline for him.

“Hi,” I said, and he just nodded, taking my hand and pulling me into the locker room where the men kept their uniforms. He slammed the door and kissed me, pushing me against it, and in an instant, I was moaning, ready for him, reaching for the c**k I could feel straining against his utility pants.

He shuddered as I grabbed it through the coarse fabric, breathing “f**k, I’ve been hard since the moment I saw you.” Then he turned me around, pulled my skirts up, and f****d me right there against the door, hard, with his hand over my mouth so the kids couldn’t hear me shout –

“Evelyn?” I blink out of my reverie as Edgar peers at me, calling me back. “Are you okay?”

I laugh lightly. “Sorry,” I say, blushing at the memory. “I think…I’m sorry, Edgar, I think I’m just overtired and got lost in the story.”

He gives me a warm smile and raises a hand, silently asking for the check. “Let’s get you home.”

Half an hour later, we’re in the car pulling down my street, a box of cannoli on my lap that Nonna pressed into our hands as we left. The boys are going to love it.

“Thank you so much, Edgar, it was a great night,” I say. I mean it, but as I look at him I do wonder…do we have the kind of passion that I’ve had in my past relationships? Do I need that kind of passion, which never resulted in happiness? I mean, even with Victor…

I shake away the thought, unwilling to go there as we pull into my driveway.

As I climb out of the car, Edgar comes around to take my hand and walk me to my door.

“I had a wonderful time,” he says softly, drawing close to me.

“Me too,” I say, smiling up at him, placing a hand on his arm. His face is close to mine, but do I even want him to kiss –

Before I can complete the thought, though, he does kiss me, taking my cheek in his palm and softly bringing his lips to mine. At first it’s just a kiss, but then…slowly, I feel something spark in me, starting in the pit of my stomach.

I stand on my toes, bringing myself close to Edgar, and he responds, deepening the kiss and wrapping his arms around my waist. He tightens his arms, lifting me so that my feet barely skim the floor, a growl rumbling in the back of his throat.

s**t. s**t, all of a sudden, with my arms wrapped around his neck, our bodies pressed together, I want him. Edgar lowers my feet to the floor so that his hands are free. He slides one up my back and it into my hair, letting it wrap around his fingers. He slides the other downwards, slowly, carefully caressing my ass.

My mind – absurdly – flashes to Victor in this moment, remembering the way that he touched me all those years ago, remembering –

I shake my head a little, releasing the thought, kissing Edgar harder.

“God, Evelyn,” he breathes, “you’re so f*****g beautiful.”

“Edgar,” I say, my eyes closed, pulling him back towards my door, “I want you to –“

Suddenly, I hear glass crunch under my feet. Surprised, I look down and see several pieces of flat glass on the floor. Confused, I look elsewhere and notice that the window on my door is broken.

“Edgar, what…”

Suddenly in protection mode, Edgar falls into a crouch and pushes me behind him. He listens for a moment, and then tries the door – still locked. He reaches inside the window and to trigger the lock and then pulls it open.

Inside, it’s nothing but darkness and silence. The boys and the dog are at Victor’s of course, but –

“There,” Edgar says, taking two steps into the room to retrieve a rock that’s laying on the kitchen floor with a note strapped to it with a rubber band. He hands it to me.

My fingers shake as I unwrap it, dropping the rock and focusing on the note, which is written in a shaky hand, as if the person who wrote it doesn’t spend much time writing…or is completely unhinged.

Found you, b***h.