Page 8 of The Wolf's Plus-Size Nanny

She settles Fiona into the crib, making sure she’s comfortable before turning back to me with her hands on her hips. “So, what’s the plan here, Jack? You can’t just keep winging it and hoping for the best. This kid needs more than a clueless dad.”

I nod, feeling the weight of her words settle in. “I know. That’s why I put out that job posting for a nanny. I need help.”

Her expression shifts to something more guarded. “You need a lot more than just help. You need to step up, Jack. You can’t keep pretending this is just another one of your screw-ups that’ll fix itself if you ignore it long enough.”

I flinch at the bluntness of her words, but can’t argue with them. “That’s why I want to hire you. You’re good at this, Sonya.I’m not. And Fiona deserves someone who knows what they’re doing.”

She shakes her head, folding her arms over her chest. “I don’t have the bandwidth to help you figure out basic parenthood, Jack. I’ve got my own life to sort out.”

“Yeah, and that’s not going so great, is it?” I counter, regretting it the second the words leave my mouth.

Her eyes narrow, and I can tell I’ve crossed a line.

“I mean—”

“You don’t get to comment on my life,” she snaps, her voice edged with steel. “I’m here because I couldn’t stand listening to a baby cry, not because I have no other offers on the table.”

“Look, I’m sorry,” I say quickly, holding up my hands in surrender. “I’m just saying this could be a good deal for both of us. You need a job, and I need help. Win-win.”

Sonya glances back at Fiona, then at me, and the muscles in her face soften just a fraction. “Jack, you’re not exactly the most reliable person I know. Why should I believe this won’t just be another thing you bail on when it gets hard? I don’t want to get attached to this baby just for you to pawn her off somewhere.”

I feel a stab of guilt at her words, because she’s not wrong. I’ve bailed on plenty of things—jobs, relationships, responsibilities—but this is different. This is Fiona.

I look at her, peaceful now in her crib that I managed to put together in record time, and feel that same pull I did when I first saw her on my doorstep. This tiny person is completely dependent on me, and suddenly, screwing up doesn’t feel like an option anymore.

“I’m not going to bail,” I insist, and for once, I mean it. “I know I’m not perfect. Hell, aside from carrying sperm, I’m not even qualified to be a dad. But I’m trying. And I need you to help me get it right.”

Sonya watches me, her grey eyes searching mine like she’s trying to find the truth buried somewhere in all the promises I’ve made. Finally, she sighs, and her posture relaxes a little. “All right. I’ll consider it. But if I do this, I’m doing it on my terms.”

“Of course,” I say quickly, eager not to lose the tenuous thread of her agreement. “Whatever you want. Good pay, reasonable hours, no more—”

She cuts me off with a raised hand. “No more crap, Jack. No games, no teasing, and definitely no dragging me into your messes outside of Fiona. This is about her, not you.”

“Deal,” I say without hesitation. It’s a fair trade, and honestly, it’s the least I can do. “And you can set your own hours, whatever works,” I add. “Just… please. I need you.”

She studies me for another long moment, then nods. “All right. I’ll give it a shot. But I’m serious, Jack. If you start pulling your usual crap, I’m out.”

“You won’t have to worry about that. I promise. And thank you, Sonya. Really.”

She shrugs, but there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of her mouth. “Don’t thank me yet. We’ll see if you can actually stick to your word.”

“I will,” I reiterate, and for the first time in a long time, I actually believe it.

She turns her attention back to Fiona, adjusting her blanket with a gentleness that makes my chest tighten. Watchingher with my daughter, I can almost picture it—this little makeshift family we’ve stumbled into. It’s not perfect, but maybe it doesn’t have to be. Maybe it just has to be enough.

“So, what do I call you now?” Sonya asks, breaking the silence. “Boss? Mr. Thomas? Jack feels too informal.”

I chuckle, and the tension in the room eases a little. “How about we skip the titles? Just Jack and Sonya, trying not to screw this up.”

She nods, a real smile breaking through now. “I’ll try to wrap my head around that.”

We stand there for a moment, side by side, watching over Fiona as she sleeps. It’s a start, a shaky one, but it’s something. And for the first time since this whole mess began, I feel like Fiona and I might actually be okay.

There’s a part of me that still can’t believe she agreed to help, but then again, it makes sense. I don’t know Sonya all that well, but I do know she’s the maternal type. She’s always doling out advice and giving my packmates comfort when they need it. She’s good at this—way better than I’ll ever be.

“Just keep her calm for a bit,” I tell her, grabbing my jacket off the back of a chair. “Formula is on the counter, and diapers are… I don’t know, they’re around here somewhere. I’ve got to go handle something.”

Sonya raises an eyebrow. “Handle what? And for how long?”

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