Page 14 of Drive me Wild (South Island Shifters)

“I say it’s the right fairy tale.” He leans in, his lips brushing mine, testing, teasing whether or not I’ll take the bait. Only, the front door opens, making me jump away from him as though I was caught about to do something naughty. “Fuck.” Declan growls, a growl no man makes typically, but similar to an animal.

My favourite animal.

I shake my head.

You’re hearing things, woman!

I’m obviously still wound up over seeing that wolf.

I follow Declan inside to find Ravin sitting on the couch with baby Indigo. She looks up at me and smiles. “Hello, Winter! I see Declan found you alright,” she says, glancing between us.

I’m trying to remain professional, but being around him makes it harder than anticipated. If he’s feeling anything like I am, then I bet his cock is straining beneath those pants. And now I’m thinking about his penis when I need to focus on my client. Maybe Autumn is right, and I need to have some sex with the end goal, not being the vibrator-induced orgasms I’m used to.

An aroma fills the air, smelling distinctly like lemons, and my stomach growls loudly, making the entire room of people look at me. “Sorry, I haven’t eaten since my lunch break,” I say, feeling my face flush red with embarrassment. “That lemon smell is delicious.”

“I made muffins earlier,” Ravin says, “I made them for Declan. They’re one of his favourite flavours. I’ll make sure you get some before you leave.”

I cast a glance at him. “Me too.” His eyes widen with delight. “I could devour an entire lemon meringue pie to myself if I tried.” I laugh.

He chuckles. “You’d have to fight me for it first.”

“I’d fight, and I’d win too,” I reply.

“I bet you would, and then you’d owe me makeup sex.” He winks.

“Ew, gross! Can you make yourself useful, Declan?” Ravin says.

“Yes, boss. Winter, can I get you a hot drink?”

“Coffee. One sugar and milk, please,” I reply. He walks away as I turn to Ravin.

“How are you doing?” I ask.

“Don’t tell Declan, but not great. I feel like I suck at this mothering thing. I don’t want to breastfeed anymore, but the other midwives insist on it. I honestly don’t like it,” she says, tears twinkling in her eyes. “I want to move to pump into a bottle or formula. I’m not sure I’m producing enough milk.”

“Okay, Ravin, breathe for me, okay? You know how I feel about the feeding, so if you want to switch to pumping or formula, then do it. She is your baby; it’s your choice. No one has the right to make you do anything,” I say. “Let’s weigh this little one, and we can see what’s going on. Do you have her Plunket book handy?” Ravin nods and produces it from beside her. I open it, check what the other midwives have written, and find they simply wrote her weight down. I purse my lips together and decide I’ll write a little note to Ravin and Indigo in the book, explicitly telling Ravin what a great job she’s doing. Aaron joins Ravin on the couch, wrapping an arm around her and kisses her forehead.

I feel a pang of longing for what I once had—that fairy tale. Deep down, I can’t deny that I don’t want that feeling again, but I’m terrified of being hurt all over again.Is Declan even Prince Charming material? Because he is more like the Big Bad Wolf.Why am I even thinking about him this way? It’s beginning to frustrate and excite me in more ways than one.

“Can you start stripping Indigo down of her clothes so we can weigh her, please?” I ask.

“Out of curiosity, because we didn’t get to ask you the other day, what is your middle name?” Ravin asks. I glance at her, and it takes me a moment to realise she’s talking to me.

“Oh, it’s Rose. Why?” I ask.

Ravin looks at Aaron, and they share a nod between them.

Ravin smiles. “I like that. Indigo Rose Stone.”

My mouth falls open in shock. “What? Seriously?”

“We are very serious. We wanted to thank you for coming to our rescue and for how caring you were during the labour and delivery.”

“Guys, that’s a lovely gesture, but you don’t have to do that,” I say as Declan enters the room.

As we strip Indigo down, the front door bursts open and an older woman wearing a navy blue coat and carrying a bag similar to mine steps into the room. She turns and glances around at us.

“What is going on here?” she asks. She directs her gaze at me, and suddenly I get the feeling I’m not welcome here, well, at least not by this woman.

---