Page 17 of Puck Your Nanny

I shift William in my arms. "He's just tired, lots of stimulation with the car rides and being in his old nuersery for a bit."

Nate watches us, his expression softening. Then, his nostrils flare as he sniffs the air. "Does anyone else smell… flowers?"

The question catches me off guard. I hadn’t noticed a floral scent before, but that's what Clavin said in the car, too, when he asked if I was wearing perfume. What is noticeable to me is the sandalwood I'd attributed to Calvin in the car. It's stronger now, richer, with a distinct undertone of lavender. And mixed with it, another scent—warm and unique—coming from Nate, like old leather.

Calvin lifts his head, sniffing. A puzzled look crosses his face. "Yeah, I do. It's been faint all day, but it's gotten stronger. Kind of flowery. Daisy, you said you weren’t wearing any perfume, right?"

I shake my head, gripping William a little tighter. "I'm not. I haven't in years."Where are these scents coming from?

Nate stands, walking a slow circle, sniffing. "It's weird. It's everywhere, but nowhere specific."

Calvin follows suit, moving toward a window before retracing his steps toward the hallway. "I don’t get it. It’s not coming from outside."

I remain seated, holding William, confusion churning inside me. The sandalwood and lavender are definitely there, seemingly emanating from Nate and Calvin, but the floral scent Nate mentioned. I don’t smell that at all. It’s just the two of them and it’s intense.

Nate stops pacing, rubbing the back of his neck. "Maybe it's the cleaning products the housekeeper uses?" The doubt in his voice is obvious.

Calvin sighs, crossing his arms. "Maybe." His sharp gaze locks onto me. "Daisy, are you sure you're not wearing anything floral like body wash?"

My pulse quickens. "Positive." My voice comes out unsteady. "I don’t even own any perfume and my body wash is lightly coconut scented."

The three of us fall silent. William stirs in my arms, letting out a small whimper. I rock him gently, rising from my seat. "Excuse me, I'm going to go take him to the nursery."

It’s a flimsy excuse, a way to escape the strange and unsettling conversation, but I need a moment to collect myself. This whole scent thing is making my head spin. I’ve only ever seen this kind of dynamic—Alphas with distinct scents, Omegas with theirs—in romance movies. It can't mean… No. It’s impossible.

I’m a Beta.

I wake with a start. My heart pounds against my ribs. Darkness surrounds me, the only illumination coming from the digital clock's faint glow: 3:17 AM. I could have sworn I heard William crying.

Reaching for the baby monitor beside the bed, I switch on the video feed. The nursery is visible in the soft, infrared light, and I can see William asleep in his crib, his chest rising and falling in a steady rhythm. He's fine. I sigh, letting my head fall back against the pillow; relief washes over me. Just a dream. Closing my eyes, I try to sink back into sleep.

Knock, knock.

The soft sound makes me jump. I sit up, pulling the covers up around my neck. "Come in."

The door creaks open, and the familiar scent of sandalwood washes over me as three figures stand silhouetted in the doorway. As they step further into the room, the moonlight from the skylight catches and illuminates their bare, toned chests.

Nate stands at the front. My gaze travels over the broad span of his shoulders, down the sculpted ridges of his abs, the dip of muscle disappearing into the waistband of his sweatpants. His green eyes glint with something deep and primal, locking onto me like a hunter closing in on its prey.

To his right, Calvin stands with his thick, muscular arms crossed. The soft moonlight accentuates every defined ridge of his biceps, the sheer power he exudes impossible to ignore. And then there's Peter, silent and unreadable, his blue eyes flickering behind his glasses, his presence more restrained but no less commanding. His lean frame is deceptive, the cut of his muscles subtly honed beneath his skin. The quiet intensity in his stare sends a thrill racing through me.

All three of them watch me with an unmistakable hunger that sends a jolt, hot and electric, through my body. My breath catches, my thighs pressing together as my pulse hammers in my throat. The air thickens with the scent of them—sandalwood, sweet lavender, leather, and the deep, smoky spice of black pepper. It seeps into my lungs, curling around my senses, making my head spin.

Our alphas have come for us. Finally.

A voice, my voice, but deeper, more primal, whispers at the back of my mind.

My body hums, warmth curling low in my belly, spreading like wildfire through my limbs. My nipples tighten beneath the thin fabric of my sleep shirt, heat pooling between my thighs. I grip the covers tighter, but it does nothing to ground me.

They haven’t moved, haven’t spoken, just stand there. The silence stretches, thick and charged. Their gazes feel heavy, possessive.

"What do you want?" The question barely escapes, breathless and uncertain from my throat.

Nate moves first, stepping closer, his presence overwhelming. "You, Daisy." His voice is a low rumble. "You're our Omega. And we're here to take care of you."

As he moves, I notice he's wearing nothing but low-slung gray sweatpants; the fabric doing little to hide the evidence of his erection. My breath stutters, my gaze drawn to the unmistakable outline pressing against the material.

A slow smirk curves his lips. "You're in heat. We'll take care of all your needs."

---