Page 13 of Rejected Nanny Mate
Chapter 5 - Joe
That first night with Gwen sleeping in my house felt like hell. I was so aware of her, right there down the hallway, that it was impossible to sleep. It was like her energy had already permeated the property, and my mind was restless, constantly thinking of her.
I spent nearly the entire next day with her, explaining the somewhat shaky routines I'd gotten Rose into while she explained how she was going to care for my daughter. She did things differently from I did in some ways, but we were aligned in others. All that really mattered to me was that Rose was safe and taken care of, and Gwen was more than qualified for the job.
Rose took to her like a duck to water, and the bond between them was instant. The baby had bonded with me, too, but she was a fussy little thing and sometimes refused to settle, and that made me feel guilty.
“This is just her nature,” Gwen told me, her tone matter-of-fact. “There's no shame in it. We can't all be calm, easy-going babies. Just be glad you don't have a colicky baby on your hands.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I sighed. “She seems happy enough, right?”
Gwen had her cradled in her arms, and she was smiling down at Rose, her brown eyes alight with joy. I swallowed thickly, my throat dry.
“Very happy.” She looked up and met my gaze, and her smile was so bright that it nearly blinded me.
“Right,” I murmured. “Good. Okay.”
I needed to get away. Being close to Gwen, inhaling her scent, and watching her with Rose was a bittersweet torture, and I couldn't take much more of it.
“I'm gonna hit the shower,” I said, jerking my thumb toward the hall. It was a sad excuse to escape, but Gwen had my wolf pacing beneath my skin, growly and unhappy that I was refusing the Omega that it had already decided belonged to us.
I naively thought I could just escape to shower, or work out, or go and check on the greenhouse when being around her became too much. Or that the time separating us would be enough to dampen my need. That belief was a mistake.
For the next four days, I barely slept. I was exhausted, and not just physically.
When the fifth day dawned, the air was crisp and cool. By the time the sun was rising, I gave up and dragged myself out of bed, padding down the hallway towards the kitchen. It was still early, so I expected Gwen would still be asleep, but as soon as I reached the kitchen, her scent washed over me. She was there, and not only was she awake, she was making breakfast while Rose played happily in her pack in play, a spot of milk on her shirt telling me she'd already been fed.
The sight of Gwen made my heart lurch, and I had to remind myself that the feelings she brought out were old, buried, and long gone.
“Gwen?” I said, rubbing my eyes. “You're awake.”
“Oh!” She squeaked, clutching her chest. “Sorry. Yes, I woke up early and thought I'd start making breakfast. Is that okay?”
I stared at her for a minute, drinking in the sight of her. She had on a loose t-shirt and a pair of pink shorts. Her longbrown hair was loose, and there were little wisps and waves in the curls, the product of tossing and turning.
“Sure,” I answered, forcing a smile.
“Are you hungry? Do you like pancakes and eggs? I don't want to just make something without asking.”
“Yeah, sure. Anything is fine. Really. Don't worry about it.”
I was too distracted by her scent, by the curve of her calves, the way her thighs brushed against each other. By the memory of how her lips felt against mine, and the softness of her skin, and the sound she'd made the first and last time I'd kissed her.
Gwendolyn Beaufort was haunting me, even though she stood there, bright and brilliantly alive, just feet away.
For the first time in a long time, regret about that day I'd rejected her crept in. I hadn't wanted to. Hell, her confession of love had lit a fire within me that was apparently still burning, no matter how I had tried to smother it.
But she just wasn't right for me. Even if, for a time, I had been sure she was.
When I first noticed the sweet, shy waitress at Scott's coffee shop, there had immediately been an allure to her. She was a low-ranking Omega in Samson's pack, and I shouldn't have even noticed her. But I did.
Every time I went in, I made a point to talk to her. The little chats became jokes, and the waitress-customer relationship bloomed into a real friendship. We had more in common than I would have thought. She liked to garden, and I did, too. I liked history, and she was obsessed with it. We both loved books and the outdoors.
I'd always been attracted to her, and there were a few times I almost let my wolf get the better of me. I'd felt a connection so intense that it frightened me.
I wanted more from her. A lot more. I wanted things to be serious between us, but there was one big problem standing in the way—my father.
That problem was long dead now, buried in the ground with the rest of my ancestors, but the ripples from what he’d done were still knocking against the shore of my life. The old bastard had gotten his way and made sure that I’d made a fool of myself so spectacularly and hurt my mate so intensely that there was no going back.
