Page 29 of Puck Your Nanny

Footsteps on the stairs draw my attention. I turn and breath catches as Daisy descends, a small overnight bag slung over her shoulder. The deep blue evening dress she wears hugs her figure, the fitted bodice accentuates the curve of her waist before flowing into a soft, knee-length skirt. Thin straps rest on her shoulders, leaving the graceful line of her collarbone and neck exposed. Her light blonde hair is pinned back in a simple updo, a few loose strands framing her face.

The faint scent of her, fresh and subtly floral, fills the space between us. My dick twitches, and I have to look away to keep myself composed before the evening begins. Every time I'm around her, I want to pin her down and make love to her, but there's a time and a place for everything.

I step forward, keeping my gaze on her eyes. "You look beautiful." My hand extends toward her bag, in a silent offer. She hesitates, then hands it over, her fingers brushing mine for a moment before she lets go.

Her lips curve into a small smile as she smooths a hand over the fabric of her dress. "Thank you. You look very handsome."

She glances past me toward the living room, where Calvin bounces William gently in his arms while sitting on in the corner of the sectional. Nate leans against the back of the couch, arms crossed, watching them both. Daisy goes to them, brushing her fingers over William’s tiny hand before glancing at the two Alphas. "You’ll call if you need anything?"

Calvin grins. "He’ll be fine, Daisy. You’re allowed a night off."

Nate nods, but his voice is softer. "Enjoy yourself."

She hesitates a second longer before nodding. She leans down, pressing a quick kiss to Calvin’s lips, then straightens to do the same for Nate. He smiles, his fingers brushing over her wrist before letting her go. She steps back toward me, and I place a guiding hand at the small of her back, leading her out the door and toward the car. The night air is crisp, the scent of damp pavement lingering from the earlier rain. My car black Mustang waits in the driveway, sleek and polished, reflecting the glow of the porch light.

I open the passenger door for her, watch as she settles in, then close it before rounding to the driver’s side. My leg is already acting up, but I try not to show it. Tonight needs to be the best for her. To show her I'm not all prickly. The car is quiet as I start the engine. The low hum fills the space between us. She relaxes against the seat, her fingers tracing the hem of her dress.

I glance at her as I pull onto the road; the streetlights cast fleeting shadows over her features. "I made reservations at a French place downtown. Hope that works for you."

She tilts her head, meeting my gaze. "That sounds nice."

A soft smile plays at the corner of my lips before I refocus on the road. The city stretches before us, lights flickering against the skyline, buildings loom in the distance.

I rest one hand on the wheel, the other draped along the gear shift. "It’s been a while since I’ve done this."

She looks over, a smile tugging at her lips. "You’ve gone on a date?"

My fingers tighten around the wheel. "Something like that."

She doesn’t press, instead she shifts her gaze out the window, watching the city blur past. The steady rhythm of the road beneath us fills the space where words don’t need to be. I glance at her again, taking in the way the passing lights reflect in hereyes, how her posture has softened now that we’ve put some distance between us and the house.

The restaurant comes into view, nestled on a quiet street just off the main downtown stretch. It’s an intimate place, the kind where conversation lingers over candlelight, and the waitstaff move with quiet efficiency. I pull into the valet lane, cutting the engine as an attendant steps forward. Daisy turns to me, a small flicker of curiosity in her expression.

I smirk, unfastening my seatbelt. "Figured we should do this right."

She huffs a quiet laugh, shaking her head. Before she can move, I step out, rounding the car to open her door. She hesitates for only a second before placing her hand in mine, letting me help her out. Her fingers are warm against my palm, the brief contact sending a subtle tingle through me.

The valet takes the keys, and we step onto the sidewalk, the soft glow of the restaurant’s lanterns casting a warm light over the cobblestone entrance. I watch as she takes in the sight, her lips part slightly, before she glances up at me.

"This is really nice."

I nod, leading her toward the entrance and bringing her hand up to kiss the back of her knuckles. "Only the best for you."

She follows, and for the first time in days, I feel like we’re starting something new—not dictated by instinct, but something real, something intentional.

I hold the door open for her, and she steps inside. I follow close behind, ready to see where the night takes us.

The maître d' greets us with a polished smile the moment we step inside, his gaze flicking over our attire with silent approval. The soft murmur of conversation blends with the gentle clinking of silverware against fine china. The restaurant’s lighting is warm and intimate, casting golden hues over crisp white tablecloths and elegantly set tables.

"Welcome to Le Jardin Privé. Do you have a reservation?"

I nod, adjusting my jacket. "Yes, under Peter Sinclair."

His eyes scan the ledger before he inclines his head. "Of course, Mr. Sinclair. Right this way."

He leads us through the softly lit space, past tables adorned with flickering candles and fresh flowers. The scent of butter, wine, and seared meats lingers in the air, promising an exquisite meal. Daisy walks beside me, her eyes taking in the atmosphere. She belongs here, poised and elegant.

We arrive at our secluded table near a window with a view of the softly glowing city. I pull out her chair, and she settles gracefully before I take my seat.

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