Page 75 of Curvy Nanny for the Cougar
Because watching Tamare crouch beside Alex, her hands smoothing over his tiny clothes with the same care she’d give something sacred—it does something to me.
Settles me. Roots me.
And now I get it.
I get why Keeton, that big, surly bastard with a bark louder than his bite, changed everything.
Why he walked away from the wild, moved to Maccon City, and remodeled his cabin into a cozy retreat, he swore he’d never share with anyone but the trees.
He did it for Lena.
For his mate.
And now? I’d do the same. A thousand times over.
Because loving Tamare—claiming her—is like rediscovering the world in color.
And I’d burn it all down if it meant keeping her and Alex safe.
Happy. Ours.
And the mating mark on her shoulder?
Yeah, I caught sight of it this morning when she was brushing her hair in nothing but one of my old t-shirts.
That slightly raised pink mark I left with my bite—it’s still there, soft and pulsing with our bond.
My Cougar practically purred just seeing it.
Mine.
Ours.
I lean back in my chair, stretch, and let the sounds of home wash over me.
Emails can wait.
This moment?
This life?
This is the real work.
The best work I’ve ever done isn’t in court filings or cleverly coded app features.
It’s this.
Them.
And I wouldn’t trade a second of it.
Not for fortune.
Not for fame.
Not even for a full night’s sleep—which, let’s be honest, I’ll never have again thanks to one wildly curious Cougar Shifter kid and his superhero obsessions.
To think it all started with a desperate nanny ad, a nosy matchmaking Witch, and a supernatural dating app wrapped in glitter and chaos.
