Page 4 of The Wolf's Plus-Size Nanny

“Yeah, seriously. And she’s probably blaming you for it.”

I frown, running a hand through my hair, the strands still sticking up from sleep. “Why the hell would she blame me? I didn’t do anything.”

Reiner makes a sound that’s somewhere between a sigh and a laugh, but it’s lacking any real humor. “Jack, you werethere, and Tanner’s your friend. She probably thinks you’re all cut from the same cloth.”

“Well, she’s wrong,” I say sharply, though I’m not sure who I’m trying to convince. I replay last night in my mind, the way Sonya stood her ground against Tanner’s bullshit, fire blazing in her eyes. She’s always been like that—a goody-two-shoes with a spine of steel, never afraid to call out someone’s crap. It used to annoy me, but now… now I’m not so sure. Since she moved to Green Lake, that same spark of defiance has been on full display, and I can’t deny how hot it makes her.

“She’s mad, huh?” I say.

“Yeah, she’s mad. And for what it’s worth, she’s not wrong to be. Tanner’s an ass, but you didn’t exactly help the situation.”

I rub the back of my neck. “It’s not my job to babysit Tanner.”

“No, but it is your job not to make things worse,” Reiner snaps, his patience clearly wearing thin. “Sonya’s trying to make a life here, just like the rest of us. You could cut her some slack.”

“She never liked me,” I mutter, though even to my own ears, it sounds like a weak excuse. “She’s always got that look, like she’s just waiting for me to screw up so she can say, ‘I told you so.’”

“She hasn’t done anything wrong. Your defensiveness is not her problem, Jack. It’s yours.” Reiner’s voice softens just a fraction. “Look, you don’t have to like each other, but you don’t have to make her life harder, either. We’re all in this pack together. Just… think about it, okay?”

I sigh, leaning against the wall and staring at the ceiling. Reiner’s right, as much as I hate to admit it. Sonya’s not just some random face in the crowd; she’s part of the pack now,whether I like it or not. And yeah, maybe I could’ve done more, said something different, been less of a jackass. But I don’t know how to be anything else.

“I’ll think about it,” I finally say. “But I’m not promising anything.”

Reiner chuckles, a dry sound that doesn’t quite reach the usual warmth I’m used to. “That’s all I ask. See you at the river.”

“Yeah,” I reply, and once we hang up, I toss the phone onto the bed. My thoughts are still tangled up in Reiner’s words and the image of Sonya’s angry eyes from last night. I’ve never been good at taking responsibility, and I sure as hell don’t know how to start now. But maybe Reiner’s right. Maybe it’s time to figure it out before the pack decides they’ve had enough of my bullshit.

Still, I’m too tired to be lectured on responsibility, and I’m definitely not in the mood to dwell on Sonya’s pissed-off face. But the mission’s waiting, and if there’s one thing I’m not about to do, it’s give Reiner more reason to nag me.

I grab a water bottle from the fridge, gulping it down like it’s a lifeline. The cold hits my throat, waking me up a bit more, and I shake off the last dregs of my hangover. I’ve been on plenty of missions feeling worse than this, but I can’t afford to be off my game today. Not with Reiner breathing down my neck and Sonya’s fiery glare still lodged in my brain.

I throw on a clean shirt and grab my gear, mentally running through the route we’re supposed to take. Just a quick sweep of the border near the river, check for anything out of place, and report back. Easy enough. And if I can just get through this without Reiner’s judgment hanging over me, maybe I’ll figure out a way to set things right. Or at least not make them worse.

I’m halfway to the door when I notice something that makes me stop short. There’s a basket sitting on my doorstep, right next to the welcome mat that hasn’t welcomed anyone in weeks. For a second, I think maybe one of my packmates left something—groceries, a weird gift, who knows. But as I get closer, I hear it: a soft, gurgling noise, followed by a soft coo.

“What the hell?” I mutter, crouching down to get a better look. The basket is small, woven with a cheap, flimsy handle, and covered with a pale blue blanket. My heart skips a beat as I pull the blanket aside, revealing a tiny face peeking out at me with wide, curious eyes.

A baby. There’s a baby on my doorstep.

I stand up, rubbing my temples like maybe I’m still hungover and this is just some messed-up hallucination. But the kid’s still there, blinking up at me with eyes that are a little too familiar for comfort. I stare down at him as my mind scrambles for an explanation, but none of them make any sense. Who leaves a baby on a doorstep in the middle of the night? And why my doorstep?

My eyes catch on a piece of paper tucked under the edge of the blanket. I pull it out, unfolding it with shaky hands. The handwriting is rushed, almost frantic, and my gut clenches as I read:

Jack,

I’m sorry. I can’t do this. This is your daughter. Her name is Fiona. I’m not the mother she needs, but I know you’ll do right by her.

-Casey

The name hits me like a punch to the gut. Casey. I haven’t seen her in… God, it must be almost a year. We weren’t anythingserious—just a fling that burned hot and fast before fizzling out. I hadn’t thought twice about it after she left town, assuming that was the end of it. And now she’s dumped a baby at my feet like I’m some kind of last resort.

I stare at the letter, then back at the baby—Fiona. My daughter. The words don’t even seem real, like they’re someone else’s story, not mine. But then Fiona lets out a soft whimper, and I see it. The tiny dimple in his cheek, the dark brown tuft of hair, the way her eyes—my eyes—stare right through me. There’s no denying it. This kid is mine, and Casey’s gone and made damn sure I’m the one stuck dealing with it.

I run a hand over my face, glancing around like maybe someone’s going to jump out and tell me this is all some elaborate prank. But the field in front of my cabin is empty.

“Okay, uh… hey, sweetheart,” I say awkwardly. “So, you’re Fiona, huh? And I’m… well, I’m your dad, I guess.”

Fiona stares up at me, unblinking, and I can feel panic creeping up my spine. I’ve faced down rogue shifters, handled high-stakes missions, but this? This is completely out of my league. I have no idea what I’m supposed to do with a baby, let alone one that’s been dumped on my doorstep with nothing but a half-assed apology and a name.

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