The Alpha Claims A Mate by Georgette St. Clair Read Free Book Online Page A

know what was going to happen with Sir Douche A Lot, back in New York?”
     
    “I don’t know. Not necessarily. Yeah, it sucked, but you can’t live your whole life in fear of making a mistake. Maybe you need to have the life experiences that you’re meant to have, even the bad ones, so you can become the person that you’re meant to be.”
     
    “What? That was so convoluted, you almost sounded like Winifred just now. Could you please make sense?”
     
    “Just freaking go out on a date with him. Just this one date, and then I won’t nag you any more.”
     
    “Fine. If you go out on a date with Sheriff Sexy Ass, I will go out on a date with Henry.”
     
    “He hasn’t asked me,” Ginger said. “And he’s not going to.” She was pretty sure, anyway. For all his flirting, at the end of the day, he’d just dropped her off at the boarding house with a wink and a good night wave.
     
    She had a feeling he flirted as a natural reflex, like breathing.
     
    “Yes, he will. And no, I didn’t look into your future, I can just tell.  Promise me that when he asks you out, not if, you will say yes. And I’ll go out on a date with Henry.”
     
    “All right then, I will,” Ginger said. Ha. That was an easy promise.  The sheriff would ask her out when pigs fly.
     
    Ginger woke up early the next morning so she’d have time to shower, get dressed, and be ready when the sheriff came for her at 8.  No way was he catching her in her pajamas again.
     
    She tried on half a dozen outfits, finally settling on a pink shirt and pink floral skirt.
     
    Staring in the mirror, she tugged at the neckline of her scoop neck shirt. Too much cleavage? Too little?  One of the advantages of being a larger woman was having big breasts.  Then again, she didn’t want to look like a floozy. She yanked the neckline back up.
     
    Did the sheriff like big breasts? She wondered.  Not that it mattered, of course.
     
    Ashmont had not been fond of any display of her cleavage. He was easily embarrassed, and before he took her out anywhere he’d spend half an hour fussing at her clothes, yanking them around, readjusting them, picking out different accessories for her.
     
    At the time, she’d told herself that she was lucky she’d found a straight man who actually cared about fashion.
     
    Now that they’d split up she had to admit to herself that his fashion advice was always laced with subtle insults.  He was constantly telling her to dress to hide her figure.  “Wear this sash to make it look like you’ve got a waistline,” he’d say.
     
    “Of course he’ll choose me.  Ever heard of the Madonna Whore complex? Men have sex with sluts, but they marry virgins,” Tallulah’s smug voice drifted down the hall.
     
    Ginger groaned and wished there was another way down to the dining room.  She shut her door behind her, rounded the corner and walked down the stairs, where Tallulah and Brenda were standing  locked in a heated argument. They both swung around as she walked towards them.
     
    “Who do you think a man would want to marry? Some loose- coochie hoebag or a virtuous soul-mate who’s saving herself for marriage?” Tallulah demanded.
     
    “Bitch, what did you call me?” Rage flared on Brenda’s face and she gave Tallulah a hard shove. T allulah let out a shriek and stumbled backwards, and Ginger barely had time to grab her before she fell.
     
    “You’re not just a skank, you’re a crazy skank!  I’m telling Professor Reese!” Tallulah screamed, hiding behind Ginger  as Ginger quickly herded her down the stairs.
     
    “Go ahead! I’ll tell him what you called me!” Brenda yelled back.
     
    “He already knows about your loose coochie, you slut!”
     
    Ginger stopped and threw her arms out between the two of them and yelled, in her best school-marm voice, “Stop it immediately and act your age or there will be consequences!”
     
    They both settled down, shooting each other venomous glares and muttering