Page 22 of Curvy Nanny for the Cougar (Uncle Uzzi’s Date to Mate #3)

Dane

T rying to work while sharing a roof with my now very claimed mate?

Still impossible.

But in the best fucking way .

The last few weeks? Complete and total bliss.

The kind that sneaks up on a man who never thought he deserved it.

The kind that wraps itself around your spine and settles in your chest like a second heartbeat.

Yeah, I’m still rereading the same damn contract paragraph for the twelfth time.

My app has taken off, with a little help from Uncle Uzzi’s tech guru friend, Horace Vanderbilt, who happens to be mated to the owner of my Pretty Girl’s favorite pizza joint.

Anyway, my email inbox is overflowing like a busted dam.

But honestly?

It’s all good. Better than. It’s perfect.

Because just beyond the walls of my office, I can hear them .

Tamare’s soft, melodic laugh. Alex’s bubbling excitement. The shuffle of duffel bags being packed, zippers being zipped, and the sound of my son—make that our son —mispronouncing "deodorant" like it’s some mythical creature.

I grin as I listen to Tamare correcting him in that patient, funny, slightly exasperated tone she uses when she’s pretending not to be wrapped around his little finger.

Our family— my family—is getting ready for our weekend trip to Keeton and Lena’s place in the Panther Mountains.

Part honeymoon.

Part Shifter development retreat.

And all heart.

Alex needs this.

His first full shift came early, and even though he handled it better than I ever imagined, there’s a storm brewing under that sweet, mischievous grin of his.

His Cougar is strong, and his instincts are starting to bubble up in ways he doesn’t always understand.

He needs space to run, to roar, to feel the dirt and pine needles under his paws.

He needs the wild.

And I need to be the one to guide him through it.

It’s my duty. My right. My joy.

And Tamare— gods bless her fierce, generous heart —didn’t hesitate when I told her what he needed.

She just nodded and asked if she should pack trail mix or beef jerky.

Like it was nothing.

Like it was everything.

I never thought I’d find a woman who could love my son like he was her own. Honestly, I wasn’t even sure I should hope for that kind of miracle.

But then came Tamare— this wild, soft, sharp-as-hell woman —humming to herself in my bedroom, helping Alex choose between a Spider-Man hoodie and his “official feral cousin” tee for our trip.

Yeah. That shirt.

Something I definitely need to have a word with Keeton about.

It’s his fault Alex calls his mountain-born kin “feral cousins” in the first place.

Not that they don’t live up to it.

The twins once taught Alex how to fish with his teeth— while swimming in the creek behind the cabin butt ass naked.

Still. Whatever. It’s fine.

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.

Magic, it turns out, has officially entered the 21st century.

And maybe that’s how it should be.

Evolution doesn’t stop with humans.

Even the supernatural world needs a little digital upgrade now and then.

“Dane? You ready?” Tamare’s voice floats down the hall, warm and sweet like sunlight through kitchen curtains.

My lips curve as I shut my laptop and stand, stretching. “Yeah, Baby. I’m ready.”

The second I step out of my office, I get ambushed—by sixty pounds of joy and sticky fingers.

Alex launches himself at my knees with the force of a freight train.

“Tackle hug!” he bellows.

I catch him laughing as Tamare shakes her head with a mock-serious glare that only makes her more beautiful.

“Hey, Dad? Why do you call Tam baby ?” Alex demands, peering up at me with his wide, golden eyes. “She’s a lady . A wife. My —hey. Tam?” He turns to her, hopeful, uncertain. “Can I call you Mom ?”

Silence.

My breath catches in my throat as Tamare kneels down, her hand reaching gently for his.

Her voice trembles, but her words are solid steel wrapped in velvet.

“Alex,” she says, smiling through tears, “it would be my honor if you called me that. No pressure , okay? You just do what feels right in your heart.”

He grins so big it practically splits his face in half.

“Okay then. Let’s go Mom! ” he cheers, already darting toward the elevator like the world just handed him a brand new superpower.

I shift my gaze back to Tamare, her soft eyes shining.

Her shoulders shake once.

I step close, pressing a hand to her back as she rises.

“You okay?” I whisper.

She nods. “I think I just became a mom.”

The wonder in her voice? The raw, open ache of joy? It shreds me—in the best way.

“Is that okay?”

“It’s perfect. Thank you, Dane.”

“For what?”

“For loving me. For giving me this. Him. You. ”

I wrap my arms around her, steadying her, holding her, knowing that even now, I’ll never hold her enough.

“It’s easy as breathing, Pretty Girl,” I murmur against her temple. “You belong here. With us.”

Then I kiss her— slow and sweet and full of everything that doesn’t need to be said out loud.

“I love you,” I tell her.

And when she whispers it back, soft and sure, I know.

This is forever.