Page 29 of Bad Wolf's Nanny

But not…lost.

“We’ll help however we can,” Felix said, cutting through Nicolas’s next sarcastic quip. He turned to Dane. “In all seriousness, you’re not alone. You never were.”

Dane nodded tightly, “I know.”

Rick was still watching her, though.

And for all her bravado, Lola couldn’t quite look back.

There was something in his gaze she didn’t understand. Something sharp and knowing. He hadn’t objected to her offer, but he hadn’t agreed with it, either. It was like he was waiting. For what, she didn’t know.

The baby let out a small sigh against her shoulder, then promptly threw up down the front of her shirt. “Oh my God.”

Lola froze, arms outstretched in horror, as warm milk soaked through her top.

Dane bit back a laugh.

Nicolas didn’t bother trying, though he at least covered his mouth with his hand.

“Right,” Lola said, eyes wide and voice faint. “So that’s a thing they do. Lovely.”

Felix tossed her a muslin cloth from one of the supply bags, “Welcome to the club.”

“You didn’t say there would befluids.”

“Just don’t do what Nicolas does and insist on wearing designer shit when handling infants,” said Felix. “Nothing that needs handwashing.”

Lola muttered something unflattering under her breath as she wiped herself off, trying to maintain what little dignity she had left.

Dane stepped forward. “Here, let me—”

“Don’t you dare come near me with your smug alpha charm right now,” she snapped, one arm still awkwardly around the baby. “I smell like cheese.”

“Now you are going to want to go designer to help cover the smell,” said Nicolas breezily. “Though judging by your taste in perfume, you’ve got that covered.”

Lola groaned and dropped her head against the back of the couch.

The baby yawned and promptly fell asleep again on her chest.

It wasn’t ideal.

But somehow, it was working.

The baby was still alive. At least for now.

He slept for a solid twenty minutes before stirring again.

Just enough time for Felix to lay out a few supplies, Nicolas to test every piece of baby equipment for its ‘assembly potential,’ and Rick to silently judge everything from the kitchen doorframe with a disconcertingly steady gaze.

Lola could feel his stare like a low hum at the base of her spine.

She was a shifter. Not a powerful one, her bloodline was decidedly middling, but even she could read intent. Andwhatever was flickering behind Rick’s quiet appraisal wasn’t idle curiosity. It was an observation. Weighing.

Sizing her up.

Why, she had no idea.

She did her best to ignore it, smoothing a hand down the baby’s back while he wriggled, rooting again. Dane was across the room assembling a bouncer with more concentration than she’d seen him give anything other than combat drills and beer selection.