Page 24 of The Wolf's Plus-Size Nanny

Our lips meet, and it’s like a dam breaking, all the tension and frustration and unspoken words spilling over in a rush. Sonya gasps against my mouth, and her fingers curl into my shirt as she pulls me closer, and I swear I’ve never felt anything like this—like she’s setting my whole world on fire and I’m too far gone to care about the consequences.

It’s messy and desperate, the way we’re clinging to each other like we’re afraid to let go. Her mouth is soft and warm, tasting faintly of the hard lemonade she had at Jane’s, and I can’t get enough. My hands roam down her back, feeling the curve of her waist, the heat of her skin through her shirt. Every touch sends another jolt of heat racing through me.

She’s everything I didn’t know I needed, and the way she’s kissing me back like she’s been waiting for this as long as I have, makes it impossible to stop. I deepen the kiss, tilting her head back so I can taste more of her, and she lets out this soft, breathy moan that sends my mind spinning. It’s all too easy to imagine this going further. To feel her pressed up against the wall, her body arching into mine as I—

“Jack,” she murmurs against my lips, her voice shaky but insistent.

The sound of my name on her lips is like a bucket of cold water, and I pull back, breathing hard, my forehead resting against hers as I try to get a grip on myself. What the hell am I doing? This is Sonya. She’s the one person who’s been keeping this whole mess together, the one who’s been here for Fiona when I couldn’t be. And here I am, making everything more complicated, just like Tanner said I would.

I step back and drop my hands to my sides, forcing myself to put some distance between us. Sonya’s staring at me. Her eyes are wide and confused, and there’s this flash of hurt that cuts through me like a knife. I didn’t mean for this to happen. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.

“We can’t.” My voice comes out rough, like I’m barely holding it together. Like I might lose it any second. “Sonya, we can’t do this.”

She blinks, and the hurt in her eyes deepens. “Jack, I—”

“I’m sorry,” I cut in, running a hand through my hair, trying to untangle the mess I’ve just made. “I shouldn’t have… Tanner’s right, okay? This is… this is what he meant, and I can’t… I won’t prove him right.”

She flinches like I’ve slapped her, and I feel like the biggest idiot in the world. Her eyes are glassy, and she takes a step back, wrapping her arms around herself like she’s trying to hold herself together. “I thought you—”

“I’m sorry,” I say again, and it sounds hollow, even to me. I want to reach out, I want to fix this, but I know I’ve already messed up enough. I’ve crossed a line I can’t uncross, and now Sonya’s looking at me like I’m just another guy who’s let her down.

She swallows hard, blinking rapidly like she’s fighting back tears, and my chest tightens with guilt. “I should go,” she mumbles, turning away before I can say anything else. She heads toward her room, and I can’t bring myself to stop her. Not when I’m the one who’s put that look on her face.

I’m left standing in the middle of the living room with my hands clenched into fists as the sound of her door closing echoes through the house. The silence that follows is suffocating, and Ican’t shake the feeling that I’ve just made everything a hundred times worse.

Tanner’s voice echoes in my mind, taunting and relentless, and I feel sick. I’ve just proved him right. I’ve just proved that I can’t be trusted to keep things professional, to keep my hands to myself when it matters most. And now Sonya’s hurt, and I’ve got no one to blame but myself.

I stare at the closed door of Sonya’s room, my mind racing as I try to figure out how to fix this, how to make things right when I’ve already crossed a line that I can’t uncross. But for the first time in a long time, I’m at a loss, and the only thing I’m certain of is that I’ve just royally screwed everything up.

Fiona starts to fuss, and the sound breaks through my haze of self-loathing. I walk over and pick her up, hugging her tightly, and the simple comfort of her warm, solid weight in my arms is almost enough to soothe the ache in my chest. Almost.

Sonya deserves so much better. I don’t deserve her. I can’t believe I just kissed her. I’m an idiot. But I’ll fix this. Somehow, I’ll find a way to make it right. Even if it kills me. Even if she never wants to see me again.

I’ll make this right.

For her.

For Fiona.

No matter what.

Chapter 13 - Sonya

It’s like walking on glass. Every time I step into the kitchen or the living room, I brace myself for the chance encounter, the unavoidable brush of tension that lingers in the air between Jack and me. It’s ridiculous, really, how a single kiss can turn everything upside down. But here we are, living in the same house, dodging each other like we’re strangers in a crowded room.

I pretend not to notice the way his shoulders tense when I walk by or the way he goes quiet whenever I’m near. He tries to keep his distance, and so do I, but it’s impossible to ignore the pull, the way my body seems to betray me every time he’s within arm’s reach. There’s this constant ache in my chest, a reminder of what almost happened and the line we crossed before slamming into reality. I keep replaying that moment, the feel of his lips on mine, and it’s like a splinter I can’t get rid of, buried too deep to ignore but too painful to keep digging at.

Mornings are the hardest. I’m used to the routine by now, with Jack up before dawn, moving quietly around the house so he doesn’t wake Fiona. I usually join him a little later, just in time to help with breakfast or catch a few minutes of peace before Fiona’s up and the day kicks into full gear. But now, I find myself lingering in my room, waiting until I hear the front door close before I venture out. It’s pathetic, but I’m not ready to face him. Not when the memory of that kiss is still fresh, still too close to the surface.

This morning is no different. I hover by the door, listening to the sounds of Jack moving around the kitchen. There’s the soft clink of a spoon against a mug, the scrape of a chair against the floor. I close my eyes, counting the seconds until the door creaks open and then thuds shut. Only then do Ifinally step out, taking a deep breath like I’ve been holding it in for hours.

Fiona’s babbling from her crib when I walk into her room, her little face lighting up when she sees me. I can’t help but smile back. The warmth of her joy cuts through the fog of my own mood. “Hey there, little one,” I coo, scooping her up and cuddling her close. She giggles, grabbing at my hair with tiny, determined fingers. It’s the kind of pure, uncomplicated love that makes everything else feel a little less heavy.

But as I carry her to the kitchen and set her in her high chair, the emptiness of the space is an obvious reminder of Jack’s absence. I try to focus on the task at hand, pulling out the cereal and milk, but my mind keeps drifting back to him. To the way his eyes lingered on me just a second too long when he thought I wasn’t looking. To the way his hand brushed against mine when he passed me the baby wipes last night, a fleeting touch that sent a jolt through my entire body.

This is torture. I know I should be mad at him—I am mad at him—but it’s more than that. It’s the way he apologized, the guilt in his eyes when he pulled away. The way he’s been avoiding me ever since, like he’s punishing himself for a crime I’m not even sure he committed. Tanner’s words still sting, but the real hurt came from Jack’s retreat, from the way he pushed me away when I was ready to let him in. And now, I’m stuck in this limbo, aching for something I know I shouldn’t want.

As Fiona munches on her cereal, I distract myself by tidying up the kitchen, wiping down the counters and straightening up the clutter. It’s a losing battle—this house is a mess of baby toys and discarded work gloves, an ever-present reminder of the chaos Jack and I are trying to navigate together. I’m scrubbing at a stubborn stain on the counter when I hear the front door open, and my heart leaps into my throat.

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