Page 4

Chapter 4

Ollie

I had seen pictures of Lord Malric. Who hadn’t. He was an imposing figure in the shifter community, and anyone who didn’t know who he was was either human or hiding under a rock. I was no exception.

Living around the Emberstone clan territory meant that I was aware of the clan as a whole. I wasn’t part of them, being a mouse and all, but I knew of their politics and their business ventures. Out of all the dragon clans, they seemed to be the most open to change which had them soaring in areas not all could. When you’re stuck in the past, that’s where you get left behind.

Even so, I never envisioned I’d be having dinner with him or working for one of his sons. I was a mouse, not a dragon who had the pedigree to work for a family with such power. But also, I was good at what I did, and I needed to not convince myself otherwise.

Whether you were a dragon or not, you knew the dragon clan leader. Rumor had it, he was over five hundred years old. He wasn’t quite old enough to have been around when dragons battled demons, but he wasn’t far off. To him I was nothing more than a baby. At least based on years on this planet. To look at him, if he were a human, I’d have thought him early thirties, max. And a fine-looking thirty at that.

His attitude toward me, or my being the caregiver for his grandbabies, didn’t shock me. I’d never heard anything that would indicate he’d have a prejudice against other species, though. From everything I had heard about him and the way he ran Emberstone Clan, he was accepting of all types. Yet I couldn’t help but wonder if he had any hesitation about me being a mouse.

Did he have concerns about me being able to wrangle three dragon children? The last family I had nannied for were bear shifters. I handled that just fine.

Then again, it did seem rather humorous to have a mouse wrangling three dragons—even if they were babies.

I didn’t let myself dwell on it. Allowing insecurity to build wasn’t going to do anyone any good. And this wasn’t me. Usually, I was confident in my skills and what I brought to the table, and if others didn’t see it? Oh, well. But with Malric, what he thought of me mattered far more than it should.

If it was an issue for him, then there wasn’t much I could do about it, anyway. I truly did not want to lose this job, though. It may have only been a few days, but I was already attached to the children. The three of them were so unique and precious in their own ways. It was easy to love them. And my bosses were great. It was the ideal next position for me.

We all sat down in the formal dining room. The house that Tavian and Kier lived in was large, but not too intimidating… except for the part where it had a formal and informal dining room. That was dining room overkill.

Usually, we ate in the kitchen or the informal dining room. But not tonight. Tonight, we were in the formal dining room, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t add a level of nerves to the meal.

I had been on the job for just three days, but things were going incredibly well. I already felt at home with the family, had figured out a semblance of a schedule that seemed to be working well with my charges, and not once did my bosses treat me like “the help.”

“Ollie organized the pantry and all the cupboards,” Kier said. “There’s so much space now! Did you know we had an unopened bottle of ranch dressing from two years ago?” There had been multiple.

I smiled as Kier gushed about the things we had gotten done this week. All he had needed was an extra set of hands, and I was more than happy to provide that. He and Tavian had been doing just fine on their own, but now that I was here, it was smooth sailing. Mostly.

“That sounds like things are working out well, then,” Lord Malric said.

He fed one of the kids while I fed another, and Tavian fed the third. Although we used the term “fed” quite loosely, considering all three of the kids were scooping up their pasta and tossing it back on the table.

“That is enough,” Lord Malric spoke, his voice holding enough authority to have the inner dragons of the children perk up and listen. His voice wasn’t scary or punishing, just commanding.

And what did my mind jump to? Imagining what that voice would sound like being bossy in bed. I needed to get a grip or five. This was my job, and I should be focused on the children and not on their hot relative.

Their inner dragons listened to his command. For about thirty seconds. Which honestly, was a really long time given their age. I was impressed.

Then they were also looking at their grandpa, who they obviously adored. Flint broke into a grin and giggled, flinging his fork in the air—which in turn launched several noodles into Lord Malric’s hair, along with a few splotches of tomato sauce on his face.

A giggle erupted out of me, and I quickly covered my mouth with both hands. I should not be laughing at a man of his status. It was stepping over the line for sure. But also, it was hilarious. Had he seemed upset by it, that would’ve been a different story, but he didn’t. If anything, he was equally amused.

“Hmm, seems your new manny thinks this is quite funny, young Flint. But it won’t be so funny if I fling some at him, will it?”

It probably would’ve been funnier, but I kept that thought to myself. He didn’t know that the mere thought of a dragon as old and powerful as him flinging food to get his grandbabies laughing was going to be the highlight of my week.

Flint giggled again, clapping his hands happily.

“You are fantastic with them,” I said. He truly was. I’d worked with a lot of great families during my lifetime, and it was rare for me to see extended family so in tune with the little ones’ needs. I was impressed.

“Ah yes. Comes with practice.” He smiled down at the children with a soft look of fondness that stirred some inappropriate feelings in me. He was my boss’s father and getting a crush on him was the last thing I needed to be doing. Still, my heart melted, and if Ruby hadn’t let out a screech just then, I might’ve turned into a full-on puddle of goo watching Malric with his grandchildren.

He grabbed a napkin from the table and wiped the tomato from his face, then reached for the noodle in his hair. He missed it. He reached again. Another miss.

“Oh, let me,” I said, and reached over. I told myself it was because he needed the help, but that was a lie. I wanted to touch him, to feel his hair, to be close to him. Crap. I was in trouble.

His eyes met mine as I threaded my fingers through his soft hair, grabbing the noodle and dropping it back onto the table. I lingered a few moments too long.

“There,” I said.

“Thank you,” he replied. “I did not plan on wearing the spaghetti tonight, but I’m glad I could be of service.”

“Perhaps you should try it out at the next board meeting,” I suggested.

“I’ve often thought it’d be humorous to walk around all day with a stain on my shirt to see how long it took anyone to point it out.”

For most Alphas in his position, I had a feeling no one would ever say anything out of fear that they’d lash out. Looking foolish for some was a fate worse than death. But with Malic, it wouldn’t surprise me if the first person he greeted was the one who told him. He was so much more approachable than his position. It was probably why this clan was thriving the way they were.

“I think you did that once, Dad,” Tavian said, “and it was all day. No one said a word. In fact, several people started doing it just out of solidarity with you.”

That surprised me… a lot. But the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. They wanted to protect him, which was very different than being afraid to tell him. It was out of love.

Lord Malric rolled his eyes.

“Not going to lie, it’s hilarious,” I said. “They really let it go all day, while at the same time staining their own clothes? That’s priceless.”

“It wasn’t quite like that. My son exaggerates.” He shot him some side-eye. Was he embarrassed by the story or was it me, a mouse who was not from his clan, having heard it?

“What was it like?” Now I was invested. Fine, I’d been invested since I first took in the alpha. But I was extra invested.

“I can tell you all about it on the way to the park.”

Both his son and son-in-law gave each other looks, then watched me as if I somehow held some sort of magical answer they needed. No pressure there. But also, in that moment, I wasn’t thinking about them; my every single thought was occupied with the alpha before me, the one that was so far out of my league that we weren’t even in the same division, the one who was old enough to be my father—heck, my great-great-great grandfather, the one who stole my breath away, the one I had no business wanting. Crap. This wasn’t good. At this rate, I was going to cross a line and be fired before I even reached my first paycheck.

The question remained: Did I care? Apparently not, because the next words out of my mouth were, “I can’t wait to hear it. Let me help clean up so we can go before the bugs come out.”

Was I making a huge mistake? Probably. Was the sexy dragon who was wrapped around not one, but three little fingers, worth the risk? My gut said yes.

Who knew—maybe we’d make it halfway to the park and I’d already be bored of him. That would be for the best, right? Who needs attraction and unprofessional feelings toward the boss’s father getting in the way of a good gig, anyway?