Being that he’s Pack, I was afraid for my job if things didn’t… well, if we didn’t work out. He understood the reason for my concern, and he was quick to promise me that dating or not dating him wouldn’t affect my employment in the slightest.
Thankfully, this has proven true. And lately, he’s upped his ask-out game and I’ve flat out told him I’m having a hard enough time finding sitters to cover day shifts—forget about date nights.
Now the Pack has loaned me a live-in babysitting wolf.
I wanted to say no… but like I’ve already said, it’s no easy feat to secure reliable child care. And again: the Internet says submissive wolves are wonderful with children. All children. Any children. Even human children. Werewolf nannies are all the rage with people who can actually afford a nanny.
Not in my wildest dreams did I think that would ever be us.
And although we’re providing room and board, the Pack is helping out where the boarding is concerned too. A delivery—meat, boxes and boxes of meat—arrived a few days before the werenanny himself, which stocked the mini-fridge in the basement as well as filling our freezer upstairs.
This was, so the delivery werewolf told me, being done so that our soon-to-arrive werenanny would stay ‘well fed.’”
I almost chickened out right then. But Finn gave me his word that the live-in wolf would be 100% safe, and he does not make promises lightly.
And when I sat down and figured the money I’d save if I didn’t have to pay out to a sitter…
I nearly cried.
My gaze refocuses to the present as Finn catches me by the elbows and draws me closer to him. Behind us, there’s a hush as both of my girls stare at my back, no doubt curious and maybe feeling lots of things as they watch me with the first man who is not their father touching me like he’s interested in me.
I stare up into Finn’s eyes. Green, I realize. I’ve looked at them, but never really noticed them before.
My sharpened attention is not missed. Finn’s lips curl up in a victorious, sexy smirk. “You said my name. I feel like we’re finally getting somewhere, a stór.”
And with that, he pulls me in for a chaste kiss that has the girls sucking in their breath—with shock, or maybe disapproval.
I can’t turn off my brain from them to enjoy Finn’s kiss; it’s too brief and I’m too tense, and Finn has bumped up the intensity of his pursuit so much that I’m struggling on how to handle it.
Either sensing my hesitation or feeling like a bit of a spectacle himself, Finn runs his hands along my arms once and lets me go, walking backward. “I’ll see you at work on Monday.”
Jerkily, I nod. “Thanks again, Finn.”
His slash of a smile at me finally capitulating and using his first name is triumphant. “Oh, no need to thank me. Guess who is the Pack liaison for your nanny here?” He grins full-out. “I’ll be dropping by on a regular basis to check on how Deek’s doing. So I’ll be seeing you outside of work real soon, Sue.” He gives a puckish wave. “‘Til then, eh?”
He sees himself out, which is good, because I’m frozen in place for a few beats longer than I needed to be in order to get the door for him myself.
And when he’s gone, it’s like the tension increases by a thousand. I turn, feeling a strong, strong sense of dread—and I realize, it’s not my own. As my gaze lands on the werewolf still lying on the floor, he shivers and slams his eyes shut and turns his head so that he’s not directly looking at me anymore.
My girls (and by ‘girls’ I mean Maggie) are being surprisingly self-controlled. They’re standing where the carpet turns into tile, right at the midline between the living room and the kitchen, which is giving the clearly terrified wolf some space, but it still allows them to stare at this new and interesting creature.
Not sure what to do, I glance at them, then drop to a crouch and clear my throat to get the werewolf’s attention. “Um, Mr. Deek?”
(Yes, I know what Finn said about not referring to him as ‘mister.’ But it just seems so impolite.)
Miserably, Deek arches his neck enough that his eyes are raised—but he keeps his nose between his paws, almost like he can’t help but hide his face. He doesn’t look at me directly, but he is looking