Page 7 of The Wolf's Plus-Size Nanny

I glare at him, but he just grins wider. “I’m not interested in playing games, Jack. I need a job, not whatever sick fantasy this is.”

He tilts his head, feigning innocence. “Oh, I don’t know. You seemed pretty game for a challenge the other night at the bar.”

I open my mouth to retort, but I’m cut off by the sound of a baby’s cry from somewhere inside the house. Jack flinches, and for the first time, I see a flicker of something that looks a lot like panic cross his face.

Holy shit. There really is a kid. And judging by the look on Jack’s face, he’s clearly in over his head. And as much as I want to be irritated, I can’t help the tiny sliver of sympathy that slips in.

Jack runs a hand through his short brown hair, looking over his shoulder toward the sound. “Uh, yeah, that’s Fiona,” he says, almost sheepishly. “Apparently, I have a daughter. Who knew, right? I was, uh, hoping to find someone who actually knows what they’re doing.”

“Clearly,” I mutter under my breath, but he hears me, and the corner of his mouth twitches.

“I’m serious,” he says, his voice dropping the teasing lilt. “I’m not cut out for this. I didn’t even know she existed until yesterday morning.”

I raise an eyebrow, and the pieces start to click together in my mind. “So, this is your kid? And you just… found out?”

Jack nods, looking for all the world like a deer in headlights. “Pretty much. Her mom bailed and left her with me. I’ve got no idea what I’m doing, Sonya. I don’t suppose you know anything about cubs?”

The vulnerability in his voice takes me by surprise, and for a second, I almost feel bad for him. Almost. But then I remember the bar, and Tanner, and how Jack stood by and let it all unfold. My sympathy only goes so far.

“I’m not your fixer,” I tell him, taking a step back. “You don’t get to just snap your fingers and expect me to come running because you suddenly have a crisis.”

“I’m not asking you to fix anything,” Jack counters, his voice edged with frustration. “I just… look, you’re good with kids, right? I’ve seen you with the pack’s pups around town. I’m asking you to help me figure this out, just for a little while.”

I hesitate, caught between the urge to walk away and the nagging sense of responsibility that won’t let me ignore a crying baby. Jack’s staring at me, and his usual cockiness is dimmed under the weight of real fear. I hate that I’m even considering this.

“You’re really that desperate, huh?” I ask, folding my arms tighter around myself.

Jack nods. “Yeah. I really am.”

Another cry echoes from the back of the house, this time louder and more urgent. I see Jack’s shoulders tense, and fora moment, he looks like he might crumble right there on the doorstep.

“Fine,” I snap, pushing past him and into the house before I can change my mind. “But this doesn’t mean I’m taking the job. I just can’t stand out here and listen to that poor baby crying.”

Jack follows behind me, his steps quick and hopeful. “You’re a lifesaver, Sonya. Seriously.”

“Save it,” I bite out, but I can’t help glancing back at him. He looks relieved, like he’s just been thrown a lifeline, and it makes me wonder what kind of mess he’s really in.

Chapter 4 - Jack

The sound of Fiona’s crying is like nails on a chalkboard. Each wail ratchets up my anxiety a notch higher. I’m standing in the middle of the room I’ve made into her nursery, frozen like some idiot who just got handed a live grenade and was told to defuse it with no instructions. Fiona’s little face is red, tears are streaking down her cheeks, and all I can think is, how the hell do people make this look so easy?

“Hey, sweetheart, it’s okay,” I tell her, though my voice comes out shakier than I’d like. I bounce her gently, the way I’ve seen in movies, but her cries just get louder, more frantic, like she knows I have no clue what I’m doing. I can feel the panic rising in my chest, hot and sharp, threatening to spill over. What if I can’t do this? What if I screw up so badly that—

“Move,” Sonya’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts, and before I know it, she’s right there, reaching for Fiona with a confidence that can’t be faked.

I step aside, too relieved to argue, and watch as she scoops Fiona up, her movements smooth and sure. She cradles her close, swaying gently as she hums a soft tune I don’t recognize. Within seconds, Fiona’s cries start to quiet, and her little fists unclench as she snuggles into her chest.

“There we go,” Sonya murmurs. Her voice is so soothing, like she’s done this a thousand times. She glances up at me with one eyebrow raised. “First rule of calming a baby: don’t look like you’re about to lose it yourself. They can sense your fear. Especially shifter cubs.”

“Yeah, thanks for that,” I mutter, rubbing the back of my neck. It’s embarrassing how quickly she stepped in and tookcontrol, like she was waiting for me to fall apart. And maybe I was.

Sonya gives Fiona a little pat on the back, and she sighs as her tiny body goes limp against her. Sonya looks down at her with a soft smile tugging at her lips, and I’m hit with a strange mix of relief and something else I can’t quite name. Gratitude, maybe. Or awe.

“You’ve got a knack for this,” I say, crossing my arms as I lean against the doorframe. “Seriously. It’s like you’ve got some kind of magic touch.”

Sonya snorts, rolling her eyes. “It’s not magic, Jack. It’s called paying attention. Babies are pretty easy to read if you’re not caught up in your own head.”

“Right,” I reply, but my gaze lingers on her a moment longer. The way she moves, the quiet confidence, it’s… impressive. And infuriating, because it makes me feel like an idiot by comparison.

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