Page 60 of Bad Wolf's Nanny

She didn’t need to pick him up. Not yet. He wasn’t wailing, just fussing, shifting in that disoriented, baby-like way that suggested he’d briefly left sleep and didn’t like it.

“Hey,” she whispered, reaching through the bars to place a light touch on his back, “you’re okay. You’re safe.”

Sam settled almost instantly at the sound of her voice, the way he always did now.

Like she meant comfort. Like she meant home.

The thought struck her with a dull throb.

You’re not home. You never were. You’re temporary.

Her throat tightened, and she leaned forward, resting her forehead lightly against the edge of the crib. The wood was smooth and cool beneath her skin.

Everything else was hot. Embarrassed. Ache and anger coiled together in a hollow pit under her ribs.

What had she even expected?

Dane wasn’t some storybook man who would wrap his arms around her and sayI didn’t mean it like that, I just don’t know how to love yet, but I want to learn. He wasn’t built for soft reassurances and heartfelt confessions. He was built for violence, for keeping the peace by brute force, for doing what needed to be done without letting anyone too close.

She’d always known that.

But still…still…she’d hoped.

And that was the most humiliating part. That she, Lola Devereaux, who had spent her whole life watching from the outside, hadlet herself hopethat someone like Dane could choose her.

Stupid. Naïve. Absolutely hopeless.

Sam shifted again, this time with a sleepy little squeak that made her breath catch.

He was the only uncomplicated thing in all of this.

He didn’t care about politics or roles or whether or not his existence complicated someone else’s life. He just wanted comfort, food, and love. And he gave it back without conditions.

Lola reached down and scooped him up, lifting his warm little body against her chest. He tucked his face instinctively into her neck, a small hand clutching the neckline of her borrowed shirt.

She closed her eyes and held him tighter.

“We’ll be okay, sweetheart,” she whispered, brushing her lips against his silky hair, “even if everything else falls apart, we’ll be okay.”

He was already drifting off again by the time she settled back in the armchair, rocking slowly. She kept her cheek against the top of his head, letting the motion soothe them both.

She thought of Rick’s visit. Of the questions. Of the way Dane had glared like he wanted to tear someone apart.

And then tonight. The heat between them. The need. Theconnection.

It hadn’t been one-sided. She knew that. Dane didn’t fake things, not that well.

But the moment it had meant something real, he’d panicked.

He hadn’t meant to hurt her. She truly believed that. But she also believed that if she reached for him again, he’d just flinch again. That this would turn into a quiet cycle of closeness and retreat, intimacy and cold silence. And she wasn’t sure her heart could take that.

She’d made this mistake once already, hoping someone might pick her.

This time, she’d protect herself.

Keep your head down. Do your job. Be helpful. Don’t get in the way.

It was the oldest rule she knew. The one she’d carried from her girlhood, tucked inside her bones like marrow.