Page 5 of Knotty New Year

“Mom and Dad were true mates,” she insisted. “And I found Ben. Your mate is out there somewhere. I know she is.”

No, she was inhere. Inside my fucking house, right now. Still, I hedged. “You know a lot of people don’t even believe in true mates anymore, Lin.”

We both went quiet. Our brother Victor had met his true mate the year before, at her wedding to another alpha, a friend of Victor’s from university.Victor had changed since, and not for the better. He’d cried on my shoulder for days, insisting he could still smell her on his skin after embracing her at the reception. He’d dropped out of our weekly family calls, then left the country, telling us he’d come back when he could be sure he wouldn’t go feral, track his true mate down, and kill her husband.

I’d hired a private investigator to find him, so I knew he’d traveled to Chile recently, and was alive. But not much more than that.

I held my own hand to my nose and inhaled deeply. Strawberries and cream, so strong she could be in the room with me. His mate couldn’t have smelled nearly as good as this little omega…

Damnit.This little, far too young, innocent omega.

“Nicky, are you still there? I can come back if you really need me.”

“Don’t worry about Benjamin,” I said gently, trying to ignore the hammering of my heart, and the pervasive aroma of ripe summer fruit that had my feet itching to race upstairs. “I’ll keep him alive until you get back to the States. Be safe. I love you.”

“I love you, too, Nicky. You’re the best big brother I have.”

“I’m going to tell the others you said that,” I warned.

“Go ahead. Just remember, I chose you to watch Little Ben for a reason.”

“Yeah, free childcare,” I teased.

“No, because there’s no one else in the world I trust more with my baby. Not even our other brothers.” Her voice went a little raspy. “Have you heard from Victor?”

“I haven’t found him. But I’ll keep trying. Now don’t worry about Ben.”

When she hung up, I ignored the impulse to sneak back upstairs and spy on Candy. Instead, I opened my laptop and did some investigating to find out what had happened to the original betasitter.

Then I sent flowers to the hospital where she was apparently recovering from a concussion and broken collarbone that she’d sustained when her car slid on an icy bridge the day before.

Finally, once I’d texted all the information I could find on Candace Kane to Estefan Morales—the private investigator I’d hired to find Victor—and instructed Theodore to call off the nanny search, I let myself do what I’d wanted all day long.

I went to spy on the trick fate had played on me. My own true mate, here in my home. So close… and yet untouchable. Far too young, too enticing, too naive, for someone like me.

Chapter3

Candy

Ihad never felt so unprepared for anything in my life. I’d walked up to this house hoping to weasel my way into a job I was only nominally qualified for. Instead, I found it a struggle not to run back downstairs and throw myself in the arms of an alpha who had no interest in me whatsoever.

I’d lost my mind.

“Now, Benjamin,” I said to the baby who was standing inside his crib, tears glistening in his huge chocolate-brown eyes as he stared at me without blinking. The crying had stopped the instant I entered the room, and he seemed fascinated by me for the moment.

He looked to be about eleven months old, but the intelligence in his expression and the words he’d babbled at me when I entered seemed much more advanced. He was also one of the cutest babies I’d ever seen, with a tiny lick of dark hair that stood straight up like an Oompa-Loompa.

“I’m your betasitter, sweet boy. My name is Candy Kane. And no, before you ask, I am not one of Santa’s elves. I’m sorry it took me so long to get to you. But what kind of house has twelve bedrooms? Entire wings of them?”

I fumbled in my purse for the manual Mrs. Vincad had given me, scanning the instructions. There was a list of foods he was and was not supposed to eat, directions to give him formula at certain times and with meals, and very firm instructions not to allow him too much screen time. I snorted; I’d seen plenty of documents like this before. Maybe not quite as many subsections on “stimulating classical music” as this one, but at least the little guy had no known allergies.

“If it keeps you alive and not screaming, I’ll let you watch the director’s cut ofLord of the Rings, kid.”

Still standing behind the rail of his crib, he let out a strange half-snort at that. I rummaged in my purse for my phone, to check if I had any classical music in a playlist. I’d just pulled out my car keys and a squishy strawberry plushie Rain had given me for my birthday when my phone pinged, and Benjamin fussed. He had his fist out grasping for the toy, so I handed it to him and quickly checked my texts. It was Rain, asking about the job. I was just texting her to tell her I was busy, when I heard an odd, muffled sound.

Benjamin was foaming at the mouth. No, not foaming. I grabbed the toy and realized the baby had somehow bitten through the fabric and now had a mouthful of the tiny foam pellets that filled the center of the toy.

“Snickerdoodles!” I yelled, picking him up and running my finger through his mouth, trying to remove all the tiny white foam balls. “Come on, Benny.” He opened his mouth, and I saw more at the back of his throat. I swept my finger across his tongue again, desperate to get the last of the little pellets. Brought on by the sudden stress, the nursery room filled with the scent of burned cream tarts and scorched berries.Crap.It was too cold to open a window and air out the room…

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