Page 47 of Baby and the Beast

“Try this.”

Nash opened his eyes to find Casimir crouched before him, holding a mug. Tomato soup, judging by the smell.

“Out of a can, but it’ll hold you over until the food’s ready.”

Nash’s eyes burned. He dropped his gaze but reached for the mug. Casimir didn’t let go until he was sure Nash had a firm grip.

“This time I don’t know whether to say sorry or thank you. Maybe both,” Nash murmured.

Casimir didn’t reply. Nash let himself look—really look—at the big hunter. His eyes caught again on the facial scar, but Casimir didn’t flinch.

Nash sipped the soup, gaze drifting to the crib.

Now that she was here—now that she wassafe—he didn’t know what to do. He had to get to the rescue center, but he didn’t even know exactly where they were. He just… felt adrift.

All his focus had been on getting her safe. Now what?

“I’m a fox shifter.” The words slipped out, unbidden. Nash winced.

Casimir didn’t say anything. Just stirred the food, then went to a dresser and pulled out an old plastic sheet, a pair of scissors, and some towels. He added a cotton sheet to the pile and studied it.

“What are you doing?” Nash asked after a long silence.

Casimir looked up, surprised. “Do you have another bag stored somewhere?”

“A bag?” Nash echoed.

“Clothes. Diapers?”

Nash flushed and shook his head. “I didn’t realize how long it would take me, and I travelled as a fox at first so obviously I couldn't bring anything except a tiny pouch. I just bought the pack when I knew I wouldn't be able to shift anymore.” He watched as Casimir began cutting the sheet. “You’re making diapers.”

“It’ll do for a few days,” Casimir replied. “Did you have a plan?”

Nash hesitated. “I’m going to friends.”

Casimir nodded. “I’m assuming you have an address?” He glanced at the window and continued, even though Nash hadn't replied. “This storm’s unusual. Doesn’t usually hit this bad for another month. We might see it change again in a few days. Doyou have a way of contacting them? I could meet them. Guide them, if they’re from the village.”

“They’re not from the village,” Nash admitted.

“Local pack?” Casimir frowned. “Didn’t think we had anything around here except bears and wolves. Not in this weather.”

“It’s not a pack exactly,” Nash hedged. “I’m sorry.”

Casimir eyed him steadily, but then looked at the crib. “You decided on a name?”

Nash shook his head.

Casimir grunted and went back to the stove. Soon, a delicious aroma filled the room. He pulled rolls out of the oven and just as Nash was about to reach for his daughter, she began to fuss.

Before Nash could move, Casimir crossed the room, lifted the tiny baby with practiced hands, and perched on the other chair. Nash’s insides fluttered.

Nope.Nope. No doing that again. Ogling huge muscles had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

“You live on your own?” Nash asked, trying for casual.

Casimir nodded.

“By choice?”

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