Page 23 of The Wolf's Plus-Size Nanny

I watch him go, and my heart is pounding with a mix of anger and something else—something like gratitude. Jack didn’t have to step in like that, didn’t have to defend me or stand up to Tanner, but he did. And that means more than I know how to express.

Jack’s still watching Tanner’s retreating figure when I reach out, giving his arm a light squeeze. “Thanks,” I say quietly, and my voice is tinged with the relief I can’t quite put into words. “You didn’t have to do that, but… thanks.”

He glances at me, and there’s a softness in his eyes that makes my chest tighten. “Yeah, I did. Tanner’s an asshole. And you deserve better than that crap. I should’ve stood up for you in the bar before just like that.”

I nod, letting the moment linger between us. Jack’s never been the knight-in-shining-armor type, but there’s something undeniably protective about the way he’s standing there, all tense and serious. He might be an arrogant jerk sometimes, but there are glimpses of the man underneath, and those are the moments that make me start to question what I thought I knew about him.

We start walking again, and the tension slowly eases as the park returns to its usual peaceful hum. Fiona’s babbling resumes, filling the quiet space between us, and I find myself stealing glances at Jack, wondering what else I’ve missed in the years I’ve known him. He’s not the guy I thought he was—reckless and indifferent. He’s something more.

As we make our way along the path, I realize something’s shifting, like the easy lines I’ve drawn around Jack are blurring, the boundaries fading into something new and unfamiliar. And it scares me, the way my heart speeds up when he looks at me, the way his touch lingers even after he’s let go.

I’ve spent so long thinking I had him figured out, that I knew exactly who Jack Thomas was. But as we walk side by side, I realize that maybe I was wrong. Maybe there’s more to Jack than I ever imagined. And maybe that’s not such a bad thing.

Chapter 12 - Jack

I’m fuming by the time we get home. I slam the door behind me, and the sound echoes through the house. Fiona stirs in her stroller, letting out a little whimper. It’s enough to snap me out of my rage just for a second, and I crouch down, unbuckling her with hands that are shaking more than I’d like to admit.

“Hey, it’s okay, sweetheart,” I murmur, scooping her up and holding her close. She snuggles into my chest, her tiny fingers clutching at my shirt, and I take a deep breath, trying to push down the simmering anger that’s threatening to boil over. I press a kiss to her forehead, inhaling the sweet baby smell that always manages to calm me down, even if it’s just a little.

Sonya’s watching me from across the room. Her expression is unreadable, but I can feel the tension radiating off her in waves. I know she’s trying to keep it together, trying to act like Tanner’s words didn’t get under her skin, but I saw the look on her face when he opened his mouth. She was hurt, and that bastard knew exactly what he was doing.

“He’s always been an asshole, but that?” I say, my voice tight as I set Fiona in her playpen. She immediately reaches for her favorite stuffed bunny, content to gnaw on its ears, blissfully unaware of the storm brewing in the room. I envy her for that.

Sonya crosses her arms, leaning against the wall like she’s trying to make herself smaller. “Jack, it’s fine. He’s not worth it.”

“No, it’s not fine,” I snap, running a hand through my hair, frustrated that I can’t seem to get a grip on my temper. “Tanner had no right to say those things about you. About us. I should’ve done more—”

She pushes off the wall, closing the distance between us. Her hand settles on my shoulder before she says, “Jack, stop. There was nothing more you could’ve done. Tanner’s an ass, and his opinion doesn’t matter.”

“I’m going to go over there,” I growl.

Sonya laughs and rolls her eyes. “What, are you going to beat him up?”

I shrug. “I might. Or at least make him apologize.”

“Because that’ll definitely make things better.”

I let out a harsh laugh, pacing the living room. “Maybe I should. Maybe he needs to learn that he can’t just talk shit about people like that and get away with it.”

Sonya steps in front of me, her hand on my chest to stop me from pacing. Her touch is firm but gentle, and it sends a jolt of something electric through me that I’m trying really hard to ignore. “Jack, stop. You don’t need to go after him. He’s not worth it, okay? Let it go.”

“I can’t just let it go, Sonya!” I snap, and I immediately regret the way her hand flinches back like I’ve burned her. I lower my voice so it’s softer now, but still loaded with anger that has nowhere to go. “The way he looked at you, like you were nothing. Like you didn’t matter. And he doesn’t get to do that.”

She searches my eyes, and I can see the conflict there, the way she’s trying to hold on to that calm, composed exterior she always wears like armor. But it cracks, just a little, and her voice wavers. “I’m used to people like Tanner. It comes with being a curvy girl. I’ve heard worse, Jack. Trust me.”

Her words hit me like a punch to the gut, and suddenly all that anger shifts, becoming something colder and sharper. I’ve never really asked Sonya about her past, about why she’s hereor what she’s running from, and now I feel like an idiot for not digging deeper. She shouldn’t have to be used to people treating her like crap. She’s worth more than that, and Tanner’s the last straw in a long line of people who need to get that through their thick skulls.

“I’m not,” I say, my voice rougher than I intended. “I’m not used to people treating you like that. I tolerated it one time, but I’m not gonna stand for it.”

There’s a beat of silence, heavy and loaded, and then Sonya does something that throws me completely off-balance. She laughs, a soft, disbelieving sound that’s more sad than amused. “Why do you care so much, Jack? Seriously. You’ve never given a damn about what people think.”

I don’t know how to answer that without diving into waters I’ve been trying to avoid. The truth is, I care because it’s Sonya. Because she’s not just some random person I’m living with—she’s become a part of this weird, messy family we’re building, and the thought of anyone making her feel like she’s less than enough makes my blood boil. But how the hell do I say that without making it sound like… more than it is?

Instead, I just step closer, lifting my hand to brush a strand of hair from her face. She stills, her breath hitching, and for a moment, we’re caught in this tense, fragile space between what we’re saying and what we’re both too scared to admit.

“Because I care,” I finally say, my voice low. “And I’m not gonna let anyone make you feel like you’re not good enough. Not Tanner. Not anyone.”

She blinks, her eyes wide and searching, and I swear I can see the exact moment when the walls she’s been holding up start to crack. It’s like she’s waiting for me to do something, to prove that I’m not just all talk. And before I can think it through, beforeI can stop myself, I’m leaning in, my hand slipping to the back of her neck as I close the distance between us.

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