Page 2 of Knot Just Their Nanny
There’s a new job waiting for me, a chance to be someone important in a little one’s life. A rejected alpha and his baby girl. It’s a new one for me. Usually, it’s the poor omega who ends up with a rejection and a single mum, but not this time. It’s going to be a delicate time while I navigate this situation, but I’m definitely down for it. The fact that it is a six-hour drive away from my old life helps me to be excited about this prospect.
I think about that baby daughter, who is three months old and all coos and giggles. And then there’s her daddy, the alpha without a mate anymore. I wonder how tough it’s been to stand alone against the world, to care for a child without anyone by his side, to feel the pull of the rejection on the bond he shared with his omega. Is he broken? Angry? Gentle? And then I think of the utter bitch who left them. How dare she? What kind of mother does that to their baby? The only silver lining is that the baby won’t ever know any different. She won’t miss what she never had, but it will still be difficult, nonetheless.
My eyes scan ahead, catching the signs that count down the miles. The Lake District isn’t just a dot on the map anymore; it’ll be my new home.
Around halfway there, I pull into the Motorway Services, the car’s fuel gauge nudging towards empty. I hop out, stretching my stiff legs from hours behind the wheel. The petrol pump clicks rhythmically as I fill the tank, a simple sound that marks the pause in my journey.
Inside the shop, I grab a packet of crisps and a chocolate bar—snacks that promise a quick burst of energy for the road ahead.
With a full tank and a stash of goodies, I set off again, the highway unfolding before me.
The landscape shifts, giving way to rolling hills and open fields. It’s like a postcard from a storybook, the kind of place where everything seems idyllic, tucked away from the harshness of reality.
The hours tick by, and the rhythmic hum of tyres against asphalt lulls me into a semi-contemplative state. The Lake District is drawing closer with every passing moment. The signs announce my progress: 50 miles, 30 miles, 10 miles...
It’s mid-afternoon when I pull over and open up the GPS to tap in the address of the small town nestled in the heart of the North Lakes. I wait as it brings up the route, and then I set off again, expecting to arrive in twenty minutes.
That’s when my nerves hit, and at the same time, I spot a deer, an honest-to-God deer, on the side of the road.
“Deer!” I shout, even though I’m alone, grinning like a maniac. “Aww, a fucking deer. So cute.” It’s already darted off as my car trundles by on these godforsaken country roads that are barely wide enough for my tiny car. I take it easy, and after a particularly hazardous bend, I turn onto a wider road that would pass for a main road, I assume, and then concentrate on the directions the GPS is throwing at me, leading me onto a lovely road with new-build houses all lined up identical and not really what I expected. I imagined a quaint cottage that has seen more years than I’ve changed my underwear, but I guess that was a bit naïve. Navigating the roads, I inhale deeply and exhale, letting my sudden burst of nerves dissipate.
“They’re going to love you, Zara Roberts. Chin up, back straight. You got this shit.”
Chapter 2
Zara
When the GPS tells me I’ve arrived at my destination, I hesitate and then pull onto the open driveway of the house, next to a ten-year-old Range Rover. A newer blue sedan is parked on the verge, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. Peter and Susan, Benjamin’s parents, are here. They said they would be, but I was nervous they wouldn’t show. I turn off the car and sit for just a second, looking at the front door where my new life waits.
“Okay, Zara, this is it,” I whisper, grabbing my handbag from the passenger seat. My case and a few boxes filled with my stuff can wait in the car for now. No need to drag everything up to the door looking like an eager beaver, for fuck’s sake.
Stepping out of the car, I close the door and take in a deep breath of cool air. The place is quiet, peaceful even, nothing like the hustle of London where every moment was a noise of honks and shouts. Here, it’s the soft rustling of leaves and distant birdsong that greet me.
I walk up to the door and ring the bell, the sound echoing slightly as I step back and wait.
The door swings open moments later by Susan and Peter with the kind of smiles that make you feel like you’ve comehome. “Zara, dear, welcome!” Susan exclaims, stepping forward to envelop me in a warm hug. Her omega scent of lemon muffins wraps around me and already it feels like home, her embrace as comforting as a cup of tea on a rainy day.
“Thank you so much,” I say, returning the hug before pulling back to look at them both. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate this opportunity.”
Peter takes my hand and squeezes it, his eyes crinkling at the edges as his sandalwood scent lingers around him. “We’re the ones who should be thanking you. Not everyone would take a chance on a job up here, especially with our unique situation.”
We shuffle into the living room, where the furniture looks cosy and lived in.
“Was your drive up alright?” Susan asks, gesturing for me to take a seat on the squishy leather sofa that appears to have had a lot of bum action. In the sense of being sat on…
Fuck, Zara. Stop with the nerves.
“It was lovely, actually,” I reply, sinking into the cushions. “The scenery changed so beautifully the further north I got. And no traffic jams, which is a miracle in itself.”
“Ah, the joys of country roads,” Peter chuckles, taking a seat in the armchair. “They can be a bit winding, but the views are worth it.”
“Absolutely,” I agree, nodding enthusiastically. “I saw a deer!” I still can’t get over the joy of this.
Peter chuckles. “Yes, quite a few of those around here. And sheep. Lots and lots of sheep.”
“And cows,” Susan pipes up with a giggle.
“It’s amazing. I’m used to the concrete jungle.”
