Page 14 of Rejected Nanny Mate (Crystal Creek Wolves #3)

Gwendolyn did indeed like burgers. She also liked frozen strawberry margaritas, which she'd apparently never had before, and the alcohol made her cheeks flush the most alluring shade of red.

She'd been obviously unsure about the whole dinner thing, but her agreeing to join me had been a victory in and of itself.

I knew I'd fucked up back at the cafe, but I hadn't known exactly how until she explained it to me—Gwen hated seeing me flirting with her friends.

Or maybe flirting with anyone, for that matter.

It gave me a surge of satisfaction to hear that, but I tried my best not to show it.

I had a number of reasons for wanting to invite her to dinner.

First, the animosity and tension between us had lessened since our talk on the deck the other night, but it hadn't dissipated completely, and it was frustrating the hell out of me.

I wanted her back to the way she'd been before our fight downtown.

Easygoing, sweet, and open. I hoped to be able to coax that side out of her again.

I was also hoping to get to the bottom of why she'd been so antagonistic back at the coffee shop, but she'd offered that information up to me all on her own.

The third reason was a selfish one. I liked being around her, spending time with her.

All the time we spent together was with Rose, and I wanted to see who Gwen was when it was just the two of us.

We'd been friends once, almost lovers, and then basically strangers.

I'd at least like to get back to being friends again, but I'd accept non-awkward acquaintances if that was all she'd give me.

I'd gotten lucky. Gwen had immediately been more relaxed than before, reading every single item on the menu and agonizing over her decision. It was almost enough to make me laugh—we were at a bar, not a Michelin Star restaurant, but then the humor had bled out of me as fast as it had arrived.

Gwen was so excited and so thorough about her choices because she'd rarely been taken out before, if ever.

I remembered sharing meals with her before our falling out, but it had never been like this, sitting across from each other and chatting like it was a genuine date.

I'd assured her we were just going out as friends, but it sure didn't feel friendly. It felt...affectionate. Fun.

She deserved to have been taken out before. Every weekend, even. How had this sweet, generous Omega gone so long without being chosen as someone's mate?

Not that I was complaining. Thinking about her as someone else's mate made me want to snap the wooden table between us in two.

“Pick your top two options,” I told her, watching her chew her thumbnail as she read the menu for the third time. “I'll order one, you order the other, and we'll split them.”

“That's so smart!” she'd exclaimed, then looked a little more unsure. “Can we get some appetizers, too?”

Dammit. I'd order her the entire menu just to see her smile like that again. “Anything, Gwen.”

“And a drink? Like...an alcoholic one? I've only ever had wine and beer, and I'm not fond of them, but this margarita looks really good.”

“Yes, Gwen. Anything.”

She smiled, and my heart lurched in my chest. I'd forgotten how much she lit up the room, or maybe I'd never realized it, since she was so reserved.

“I'm going to order one, then.”

“Good girl,” I said, and her cheeks pinkened.

“Shut up, Joe,” she huffed, “This is supposed to be professional.”

“Right, right.”

I couldn't help teasing her. She was adorable when she was annoyed, her brows furrowing and her lips pursing.

I wondered what it would take to make those lips part in a moan of pleasure.

I shifted, uncomfortable. Those were dangerous thoughts, ones I'd fought to control, and it wasn't like me to not have full control over my mind and body.

Gwen ordered mozzarella sticks, fried pickles, and two different burgers. I didn't complain. After all, this was the first time I'd gotten her out of the house since she started working for me, and she'd agreed to go. She deserved anything she wanted.

Our server brought our drinks, and Gwen sipped hers gingerly, her pink lips turning up at the corners from the sweetness and tartness. I watched her closely, my fingers tightening on my beer glass, and I had to look away before I got carried away.

“So,” she said, clearing her throat. “How's work?”

We talked like that for the rest of the meal, pausing to eat and split the meals so Gwen could try a little bit of everything.

Bit by bit, she relaxed, and the animosity that had lingered between us faded away.

Gwen was on her second strawberry margarita when her friendliness kicked up a few notches, and I suddenly knew that I should have watched her alcohol consumption a little closer.

“You said you've drank before, right?”

“I had a beer when I turned twenty-one,” she confirmed, her words slower than usual. “And I’ve had wine before with the girls, but I never finish my glass.”

“A single beer?” Uh oh. I might have a situation on my hands.

She nodded. “Yeah, and I didn't like it. I like these margaritas a lot more.”

“They're made with tequila. It's stronger.”

“Oooh,” she nodded.

“Do you want something else?”

“Like what?”

“Water.”

“No, thanks.”

I held a hand up to signal the server. “Actually, I think I have to insist on the water, Gwen. At least a glass before we go home.”

She pouted, but when the server brought the water over, she obediently took a sip and then sat back, her lips parted, her eyes slightly glazed. The sight did nothing to quell the growing ache between my legs.

“This is fun,” she announced, louder than normal, and a couple people turned their heads, smiling at her.

“Yeah,” I agreed, trying not to chuckle.

“Are we having fun, Joe?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Can we get dessert?”

“Absolutely.”

She squealed, and a couple of men sitting at the bar jumped at the sound before laughing. They probably assumed that I was out on a date and that my date was tipsy. Gwen wasn't my date, but I wished she were. She was adorable, eyes too bright, lids heavy, and color high on her cheeks.

I didn't want dessert, but Gwen did, and it had the added benefit of getting her to drink more water and hopefully soak up some of the liquor in her belly.

After we split a chocolate lava cake and half a piece of cheesecake, neither of us could take another bite, and Gwen, even though she hadn't drunk anymore, was swaying in her chair.

She was a damn lightweight, and while it had been cute and amusing at first, the amusement was switching to alarm.

It was probably in both our best interests to get her home and in bed before she was unconscious, and I had to carry her the entire way.

“You ready, babe?”

Her eyes flashed up to mine. “Babe?”

“Yeah, Gwen, let's go. I'll drive us.”

“You've been drinking, too.”

“One beer, an hour ago. I'm fine. Let's go.”

She sighed dramatically, pushing herself up. And then her face turned pale, her eyes wide.

“I don't feel well,” she groaned, and I grabbed her elbow to steady her. “Take me home, please.”

“That's the plan.”

I tossed a generous amount of bills on the table and led Gwen out of the bar, letting her put her weight on me as we went. She hummed in pleasure as we exited into the cool night air, and she looked less green around the gills once we were out of the warm, crowded restaurant.

“What happened to fast werewolf metabolism?” she complained as I helped her into the passenger seat of the Jeep I'd bought just a few weeks ago. I was thanking my lucky stars that I hadn't taken us on the bike. There was no fucking way Gwen could have held on for a motorcycle ride.

I chuckled. “You managed to outpace it, little Omega. Now relax. We'll be home before you know it.”

“Home,” she sighed, her eyes fluttering shut. “We have the same home. It's kind of nice, isn't it? Living together, just me, you, and Rosie?”

My heart clenched, a wave of affection hitting me like a freight train. “Yeah,” I said hoarsely. “It is.”

“Don't worry, Joe,” she said, patting my thigh. “I won't tell all the other girls you flirt with.”

“Tell them what, Gwendolyn?”

“That we're a family.”

Fuck.

She didn't say another word until I was pulling into the garage, and then she yawned, rubbing her eyes. I was worried that I'd have to carry her inside, but she seemed a little steadier on her feet as she walked up the back steps and into the house.

“Thanks for the food, Joe. It was really nice.”

“Of course. Maybe next time, though, you'll stick to one drink, huh?”

“Sure,” she murmured, yawning again.

“Go upstairs and lie down. I'll bring you some water.”

She nodded, shuffling slowly towards the stairs. But before she could get there, she swayed, leaning against the wall.

I was there before she could fall, scooping her up into my arms. She gasped, grabbing onto my shoulders. “Change of plans,” I explained. “Let's get you in bed first, and then I'll bring the water.”

“Yes,” she breathed, eyes only half open. “That seems like a better idea.”

I tried not to focus on her warm, curvy body and the scent of her skin as I took the stairs.

Instead, I kept my gaze locked firmly on the path in front of us.

Gwen had her head against my shoulder, her soft breath brushing against my neck, and I swallowed hard, my dick pressing against the zipper of my jeans.

Gwen's room was across the hall from mine, and the door creaked. I opened it with my foot, nudging it wide enough for the two of us, and carried her inside.

“Bed,” she murmured, pointing.

“I've got you,” I told her.

I pulled the covers back and placed her on the mattress.

She was still dressed, her shoes on, but from the looks of it, she had less than five minutes of consciousness before she was going to be out cold.

I wasted no time helping her out of her shoes.

I hesitated after that, but she was in jeans, and I knew she'd be uncomfortable if I left them on her.

So, mustering every bit of self-control I had, I unbuttoned her pants and had her lift her hips so I could work them down her gorgeous legs.

Halfway through the process, I had to turn my eyes to the ceiling and basically take the jeans off blind.

One more look at her bare legs and the small slip of her panties, and I would have died on the spot.

My wolf was so close to the surface that I could feel my fangs lengthening in my mouth, but I was in control, dammit.

I was an Alpha. Nothing could shake me, not even Gwen, half-naked, her hands on my biceps as she steadied herself.

At least, that was what I had to keep repeating in my mind. Thank God it worked, and a few seconds later, I fumbled for the blanket and pulled it over her. With her irresistible legs out of sight, I thought my temptations were over, but Gwen apparently had plans to push me to the edge and more.

She looped her arms around my neck, pulling me into her. “Lay down with me for a little while,” she pleaded.

“No, Gwen,” I tried to pull away, but she pulled even harder. Gwen was stronger than I'd anticipated, and I lost my balance, stumbling forward and only catching myself with my hands on the mattress on either side of her hips.

In an instant, my face was mere inches from hers, so close I could smell the strawberry on her breath.

“Please, Joe.”

Her voice was low and husky, and her scent, usually soft and sweet, was tinged with a hint of spice. She was turned on.

“Fuck, Gwen,” I muttered. I tempted fate, letting my nose brush against hers, but at the last moment, I kissed her cheek instead and slowly untangled her arms from around my neck.

I'd never wanted anything more in my life than I wanted her at that moment, but she was drunk, and things had just been mended between us.

I might not have been a good man, but I took care of what was mine. And as long as Gwen resided under my roof, she belonged to me.

“Goodnight, Gwendolyn,” I told her, ignoring her complaints. “You'll thank me in the morning.”

“I don't feel thankful now,” she called, her voice muffled as I shut the door. “I feel lonely!”

“So do I,” I said to no one but myself, dragging my hands over my face, waiting for my racing heart to slow. “So do I, Gwen.”