The Alpha's Mate? But I'm a Single Mom!

Chapter One

Not every story begins with an alarm clock.

I've noticed that in every romance novel, there's a central focus on how the main character wakes up in the morning.  Often, they are idealized and fly past the field of an adolescent's imagination. But let's be real here. Teens don't wake up every morning to ogle their figure. Not all adults wake up with a cup of Starbucks before work.

No- Some people wake up to drool smeared on their face by an attention-seeking baby.

Or at least, that's what I like to believe.

Light coos erupted into the room as I blinked awake, murmuring a "'morning" against my pillow. I settled back into my pillow, a tired sigh drawing me back into sleep. A few more slaps to the face and I grunted.

"MMmm!"

Drool covered lips grunted for acknowledgment, hands searching my eyelids. I squeezed them shut as fingers dug into my socket. Fingers prodded, pulled, and nails clipped on my eyelashes. I lifted up the bedcovers to my face. Instead of ending her efforts, my baby shrieked happily and mumbled to me.

I sighed and withdrew the blanket from my eyes.

"Yes. Mommy is awake now," I mumbled tiredly.

My baby, Regan, swatted her hand on the bedsheets. She hummed to me in response, a deep "hmmmm" encompassing the room. She body-slammed over my shoulder, her tiny palms pulling my blanket down while her legs kicked behind her.

"Okay, okay. I'm getting up," I groaned in protest.

I curled to my side and propped myself up on my elbow. I blinked slowly and Regan eventually came into view. Regan cooed and shrieked, my hands rubbing the blurriness from my vision.

I smiled. "Ready?"

"Ba!" she exclaimed.

She clapped her hands together to emphasize her enthusiasm and I chuckled lowly. I scooted over to the edge of the bed, my hands pulling off the covers. She bounced on her butt excitedly as I reached over and picked her up. A forearm tucked behind her legs, the other hand holding her securely by the waist: It took a great amount of practice to hold her safely. By now, I was an expert. 

I headed to the restroom and I plopped her into her walker. 

"Stay there. Don't leave and have a party," I said, pointing at her accusingly. 

Regan waved her hand, her face scrunching back at me. 

Now, you're probably wondering why I took Regan with me into the bathroom. If I'm going to be perfectly honest, there's no one else in the apartment. And every parent, babysitter, and parent-to-be knows the Golden Rule. 

Rule # 1: Never leave your child unattended. 

Growing up, I heard countless horror stories from my grandparents and aunts. My grandmother had the worst recollections because she grew up in harsh conditions. The first week I had Regan,  she warned me not to boil anything near her, even if it was something small. When my grandmother was a young girl, she knew a woman who lost her baby. It wasn't the lady's fault, really. The woman had been warming up water to do laundry. And unbeknownst to her, her child stumbled near the sizzling pot. 

Babies are curious little things and they have no sense of danger or consequences. Just a tiny hint of something that is too hot or too cold and a baby will get into shock. Perhaps, even die. 

Regan batted her hand across her toys, her feet planted firmly on the ground, drool escaping down her chin. I cracked a smile on the toilet before I cleaned up and washed my hands.