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

Dane

“ D ad? Daaaaaad!”

Alex’s sing-song voice cuts through the living room like a siren—minus the car crash and more with the impending doom of spilled juice, or a Lego embedded in my foot.

“One second, pal,” I call back, not looking up from the brief I’ve been editing for the last hour.

Because this? This is important.

Not just billable-hours kind of important— but really important .

I’m working on a zoning case for my cousin Keeton and the Pride he’s built in the Panther Mountains of South Jersey.

Keeton’s ex-special ops. He was my team leader back when I served.

Plus, he’s a fellow Cougar Shifter like me. There aren’t very many of us and it didn’t take long for us to figure out we’re actually related.

I didn’t serve very long, an injury even my Shifter healing abilities couldn’t fix fast enough forced me out, but I still stay in touch.

Keeton is stubborn enough to try building a future for his mismatched crew of misfit Shifters.

It’s a real found-family type deal.

Honestly? I admire the hell out of it.

He found his mate, carved out a little piece of the world where no one messes with them, and now he’s fighting to keep it that way.

And me?

Hell, I’m the only lawyer in our not-so-sprawling, very-claw-happy family tree—so I always take Keeton’s calls and his cases.

They’re usually the ones no one else can or will do anything about. And really, it’s the least I can do.

Keeton always invites me and Alex up there for weekends, especially in the summer.

My kid gets to run barefoot through the woods with his cousins, wrestle in the mud, and come back smelling like freedom and not-quite-shifted fur.

It’s good for him.

“Dad, how much longer?” Alex whines, bouncing in place like he’s got extra springs in his sneakers.

“Just a few more minutes, buddy,” I say, adjusting the zipper on his overnight bag. “Why don’t you go double-check you packed Mr. Pickles this time? I am not driving back from Uncle Keeton’s cabin again just for a stuffed lizard.”

Alex gasps, eyes wide. “I almost forgot him!”

He darts off towards his room and I can’t help but grin at his shenanigans.

Yes, we’re cousins, but I’m a stickler for manners, so Alex calls him Uncle Keeton, and his wife, Aunt Lena. And they’re both doing me a huge favor by taking him for the weekend while I go to a supernatural summit to pitch my legal app.

Shifters like us? We don’t operate on the typical timelines.

Wolves gotta wait until puberty hits to shift.

But us Cougars? Nah.

See, we’re born with our magic humming just under the skin, whispering in our ears before we can walk.

Alex hasn’t shifted yet, not fully, but I can smell it on him. That fur’s coming. It’s just a matter of time.

And when it does? I want him to be ready.

Problem is readiness doesn’t come from being cooped up in a city condo while his dad is buried in work.

See, Keeton’s not my only gig.

I’m working on an app that might launch my medium-sized practice into something more. Something that might ensure work takes up less of my time in the near future.

I want to be a good dad. I try.

And I get that my kid needs interaction, stimulation, a place to burn off all that pent-up feline energy that’s been building since the end of the school year.

Hell, he just tried to scale the fridge last week.

Summer’s only just begun, and honestly, I’m already tapped out for time and attention.

And okay— yeah —I love the kid more than life, of course I do, but I am drowning over here.

The joys of being a single Shifter dad with no close extended family.

I get no day to day help. Not from anyone.

His mom? She checked out the minute she handed him over in the delivery room.

Said she wasn’t “cut out for motherhood” and disappeared faster than an alley cat with commitment issues.

No drama, no lingering heartbreak.

We were never in love.

Just one of those youthful, stupid choices that turned into something miraculous.

Alex .

So yeah, I’m doing my best. But even lawyers need help once in a while.

Problem is the last nanny I hired came in acting like she was auditioning to be my mistress or wife.

She batted her lashes, ignored my kid, and practically redecorated my bathroom with scented candles and heart-shaped soaps by day two.

Nope. Nope, nope, nope.

This time, I’m setting hard boundaries.

No flirting. No miscommunication.

I need a nanny, not a hopeful Hallmark movie heroine, looking to tame the mysterious single dad with a secret. Her words. Not mine.

And that is why I’m back to sifting through applications and job boards. Again.

Searching for someone qualified.

Patient.

Steady.

Someone who won’t run for the hills the moment Alex decides to climb the curtains or pounce on her mid-sentence.

What I don’t need is romance.

As for the Fates? They better not get any ideas. Because I’m not looking for a hookup or, gods forbid , a mate.

I’m looking for help.

Just help.

Right?

Yeah.

Sure.

Right.