Page 28 of Puck Your Nanny

He lifts his head, eyes red-rimmed, but doesn’t speak.

I sit beside him, the bench just wide enough for the two of us. Close enough that his warmth seeps into my skin. “You don’t have to do this alone.”

His jaw clenches. He exhales, rubbing his hands over his face. “I don’t know why it’s hitting me so hard. He wasn’t a good man. Hell, half the time I hated him.”

I place a hand on his arm. “He was still your father.”

His throat bobs with a hard swallow. “I keep thinking about Will. About how I’m supposed to raise him now. What if I mess it up? What if I become him?”

I squeeze his arm, grounding him. “You won’t. You know what not to do.”

His head drops to my shoulder, the tension in his body radiating through every inch of him. I shift, turning toward him, my hand cradling the back of his neck as he presses his face into the crook of my throat. His breath warms my skin, his scent wrapping around me in a way that makes it impossible to think about anything but him. Sandalwood and leather, grounding and intoxicating all at once.

I stroke the nape of his neck with my fingers, offering comfort where words fail. His hands rest on his lap at first, fists clenched, but as the silence stretches between us, his grip loosens. One hand moves to my thigh, heat seeps through the fabric of my dress. The other lifts, fingers tracing along my arm, hesitant at first, then more certain as he pulls me closer.

“Thank you for being here,” he murmurs against my skin.

“You asked me to be here.”

He exhales, his breath brushing my collarbone, and his fingers flex against my thigh, his grip tightening. He shifts, his other hand sliding around my waist, and in one fluid movement, he pulls me into his lap.

A quiet gasp escapes me as I settle against him. The bulge of his his hardening erection presses into my center through myunderwear. The girth of it sends a shiver through me, and I shift, pressing closer, instinct taking over.

He takes in a deep breath. "You're perfuming, and you smell divine."

His lips find my neck, lingering over the sensitive skin just above my scent gland. A soft moan escapes me as his teeth graze the spot, a silent claim that sends heat surging through my center. His hands tighten around my waist and I grind against the hardness beneath me, desperate for more friction.

His breath comes out uneven. "You're killing me here."

"Then do something about it."

A growl rumbles in his chest, and before I can take another breath, he has me pinned against the vanity. His hands roam, gripping my hips, pulling me tighter against him. His mouth crashes against mine, all restraint gone, his tongue sweeps in to claim every part of me. I match his hunger, my fingers digging into his shirt, pulling him impossibly closer.

His thigh presses between my legs, dragging against my aching center, and I let out a strangled gasp. He swallows the sound, his lips never leaving mine as his hands slip under my dress, fingers tracing up my bare thighs. The rough scrape of his palms against my skin sends another pulse of need through me, my body arching into his touch.

The moment stretches, pulling us deeper. Then, with a sharp inhale, he stills. His grip eases, his forehead presses against mine. His breath is ragged, unsteady, but there’s something else in his eyes now, awareness.

He swallows hard. “We’re in a church.”

I blink, my heart still pounding in my chest. Reality crashes in around us. The quiet hum of voices just outside the door, the weight of where we are.

A shaky laugh bubbles up in my throat, and I let my forehead fall against his shoulder. “Right. Probably not the best place for this.”

His arms stay wrapped around me a moment longer before he exhales, pressing a kiss to my temple when I raise my head. “Later, I promise, we'll finish this.”

The huskiness in his voice sends another shiver through me, but I nod, untangling myself from his lap. We stand together, and he takes a steadying breath, putting his jacket back on and fixing his tie. We take a few moments to compose ourselves. I brush my fingers through my hair.

Once we're calm, he reaches for my hand, threading his fingers through mine. “Let’s go.”

I squeeze his hand in response, grounding us both before we step back into the reception. Things may be moving fast, but I've never felt more like I've found what I've needed for so long more than I do now. Nate, Calvin, and Peter are the pieces I was searching for. The family I'd always wanted when I saw packs in movies.

Chapter 10

Istand near the entryway, adjusting the cuffs of my powder blue dress shirt, the fabric crisp beneath my fingers. The house feels quieter than usual, even with Nate and Calvin in the living room, murmuring to William as they settle him down for the evening. Tonight is the first time since Daisy arrived that one of us will have her alone, without her heat or the lingering haze of instinct clouding the moment.

Calvin was the easiest to convince to watch William, always supportive, eager to make sure Daisy feels valued in every way. Nate took longer, but eventually, he had relented with a knowing smirk, teasing that I needed a proper date to prove I wasn’t just a cold businessman. I let the jab slide. This isn’t about provinganything. It’s about giving Daisy something steady, something real.

I regret how I treated her at the start. It made me realize I may have a prejudice against betas, something I need to work on. Regardless of whether or not she ended up being our omega, it didn't give me the right to be an asshole. Now, I have to make up for that.

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