Page 18 of Bad Wolf's Nanny

Their eyes locked.

His grin was slow and unapologetic.

Lola whipped her head around so fast she nearly sloshed tea on her skirt.

Cassie let out a soft snort. “Smooth.”

“I wasn’t looking at him,” Lola muttered.

“It’s okay if you were,” Daisy said with her signature softness. “There’s definitely an allure. And he’s notalwaysawful.”

“I didn’t say he was awful,” Lola said defensively, “I said he was arrogant and annoying and smirks too much and acts like the world is his personal playground.”

“Right,” Cassie said, “but notawful.”

Lola gave them both a flat look. “There is a difference.”

Cassie laughed, reaching over to give her hand a light squeeze. “It took me a while to adjust too, but you’re doing fine. This is pack life. Community, gossip, a little light sexual tension…it’s all part of the package.”

“Sexual tension implies two people are involved.”

Daisy raised a brow. “Not necessarily. Males like Dane enjoy the chase. And it seems like you’re enjoying it a bit, too.”

“I’mnotenjoying it.”

“Liar,” Cassie said with a cheeky wink.

Lola groaned and hid behind her teacup.

“Anyway,” Bree chimed in, “even if youwereinterested, and you’re not, obviously…just be careful. Dane’s…well. He’s not exactly known for settling down.”

“Oh, I’m very aware of the type,” Lola said dryly. “I’m not even slightly attracted to it.”

“And yet you’re still blushing,” Cassie said.

“I’m going to throw myself into the fire,” Lola replied.

Daisy gave her a baleful look. “It’s not that bad to have a crush.”

Before Lola could respond, the baby on Helena’s shoulder let out a squeaky cry, prompting a gentle shuffle of women rearranging to help with a bottle, and the moment was, mercifully, broken.

Lola took a steadying breath.

She could handle this. So what if Dane had a smirk that sent strange sensations skittering down her spine? She wasn’t going to fall for some rough-edged bad boy with too many tattoos and zero emotional regulation.

She had a thesis to write.

And a library to digitize.

And no time for heartache.

“Hey, Devereaux.”

Oh no.

She closed her eyes.

Then opened them slowly, plastering on her most neutral expression as she looked up.