Alpha's Nanny: Bears of the Wild

by Lola Gabriel

  As she was finishing up drying her hair, she picked up her watch from the bedside table. It was seven-fifteen, and she was pretty much ready to go. Well, maybe being early would make a good impression? And maybe she could chat with Ash again over breakfast. Just because he was a human, and not an infant or a cat, of course.

  Easton stood, pulled on her coat, and grabbed her tote bag. She opened the door to her tiny apartment and almost screamed.

  “Wow, you gave me a fright!” On the other side of the hallway, Hannah was just coming out of her front door, too. Easton grinned.

  “Dude, it’s like we’re in a sitcom. I’m going to start walking into your place and just announcing things. ‘I’ve had the worrrrst day,’ or, ‘You won’t believe my date last night!’”

  “Right,” Hannah said. “You know, I hear you talking to Pickles. Maybe you need a date.”

  “You know Pickles is the only man for me.” Easton waved a dismissive hand and locked her door. “Oh, but your friend Ash gave me the job. I’m looking after Pen five days a week now.”

  “That’s great.” Hannah stuffed her apron in her bag. “I mean, he’s not really my fr—hey, why did you go straight from dating to Ash?”

  The two young women were walking along the corridor of identical doors to identical pokey apartments. Hannah slowed and turned to her friend. Easton shrugged.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s still early. My brain is still in sleep mode.”

  Hannah sighed. “His wife’s dead, did you know that? Not to mention the obvious child…”

  “Oh, Hannah,” Easton moaned, pushing open the door to their building. “Why did you have to tell me that? Now I know without him telling me, and I feel weird. Ugh, and I made fun of him for sleeping in Pen’s room. Great, now I’m an asshole, and my cute boss probably hates me.”

  The morning air was cold, and the sun wasn’t yet up. Easton shoved her hands in her pockets. The metal stairs down to the parking lot were loud under the women’s feet.

  “Everyone knows,” Hannah said. “He probably assumes you do, too. Anyway, it’s not the kind of thing you bring up in work conversation.”

  “It could be,” Easton said. Her car was closest, and they stopped there for a second. “I mean, being a nanny is kind of intimate. You work in customer service, people must tell you stuff all the time.”

  “Right.” Hannah nodded. “Because I’m a non-person. I’m not there every day, helping with their kid. In their house, with their stuff. Just be careful, okay, Easton?”

  This sounded ominous. Easton got out her car key. “Okay, okay. I was only kidding about Ash, obviously. I’m very professional and discreet! You know the kinds of people I worked for in California.”

  Hannah’s face relaxed. “The guy who only wore a pair of underwear once, and then threw them away?”

  Easton nodded. “And what about milk bath lady?”

  “Well, I know about them,” Hannah laughed, “so not that discreet.”

  “Oh, you wouldn’t want to know the stuff I don’t tell you. And lonely fathers coming on to me is actually a large proportion of it. One lonely mother, also.”

  Hannah shook her head. “You’re such a femme fatale, Easty. Okay, I gotta get to work. Coffee calls. Love you, knock on my door tonight, yeah?”

  It took four tries for Easton’s piece of crap car to actually start. She’d bought it fifth-hand when she’d gotten up here, and there was no way it would keep going once it got winter-cold out. But it was spring, so hopefully it would last long enough to save for a new one.

  Once the car coughed into life, it was only twenty minutes to Ash and Penelope’s place. The sea was bluer today than yesterday, or it looked like it with the sun just risen. It was only eight when she arrived at Ash’s house. Easton thought about sitting outside in the car for ten minutes, but soon after she pulled up, Ash stuck his head out the front door.

  “What are you doing sitting out there?” he called. Once she’d gotten to the door, Easton apologized.

  “Sorry I’m early. I think I was trying too hard not to be late…” Then she broke into a grin. “Wow, good look, Ash! Want me to feed Pen while you change?”

  Ash was wearing a T-shirt with a hole in the left armpit, and a pair of sweatpants. His dark, curly hair was flat on one side and wild on the other, and his chin was stubbly. His green eyes were bright, the flecks of gold in them catching the sunlight from outside, despite the slight bags under them.

  “God, would you? She’s strapped into her high chair, and there was yogurt, but maybe it’s on the floor by now. Overtime! This is why I pay overtime.”

  Ash rushed toward the stairs, and Easton closed the front door before she called after him, “And you might want to do something about your hair! Do you have time for a shower and a blow-dry?”

  She heard Ash laugh from near the landing. “Never!” he shouted down to her.

  In the kitchen, Penelope had a full hand in her yogurt.

  “Wow, Penelope, is that how you eat breakfast?” Easton asked, putting down her bag and slipping her coat off. “Gonna lick it all off your paw?”

  Penelope grinned, pulled her hand out of the yogurt pot, and nodded. Then she licked one finger, looked thoughtful, and said, “All done.”

  Easton grabbed paper towels and wiped the kid down. The yogurt was empty, but it didn’t seem like much at all had gotten in Penelope’s mouth.

  “Are you?” Easton asked. “Or would you like some cereal?”

  “Yes!” Penelope said, and from the excitement on her face, Easton deduced this was a yes to the cereal, not a yes to being done. She poured loops out onto Penelope’s tray and chopped her a banana.

  The coffee pot was empty, so Easton also put coffee on, opening about three cupboards before she found a big tub of coffee with a spoon in it. Then she realized she hadn’t eaten. She wanted to invoke babysitter rights and go through the fridge and cupboards, but she should probably wait until Ash had gone to work. What did he even do?

  In the meantime, she grabbed a handful of cereal and shoved it in her mouth.

  “Hungry?” Ash was standing in the kitchen doorway. Easton nearly choked on her cereal loops, paused, and shoved the rest of the handful in her mouth.

  “Dadadada,” Penelope called, “got nana.” She held a slimy fistful of banana in the direction of her father.

  “Thanks, sweetheart,” he said, “but that’s your breakfast. You should eat it all so you can be big and strong.”

  Penelope looked like she was thinking, then she said, “Grr,” and put the banana in her mouth.

  Ash was wearing black jeans and a long-sleeved shirt, sleeves pushed up to his elbows. He was still in his socks.

  “Oh, amazing,” he said, “coffee!” The coffee was still dripping into the pot, so both he and Easton just sort of stood near it. Easton could feel the space between them, like every atom of air trying to pull them together. Ash cleared his throat, moved away, and reached up to a cupboard to get mugs. The cupboards had no handles; instead, you had to push them in to release a catch. “Seriously, do you want food?” Ash asked. “I’m having a bagel.”

  Easton shook her head. Then she said, “That was a lie, I’m starving. I forgot to eat… Well, I don’t have any food in my house, but also, I forgot. I’m your classic single cat-lady. But, you know, younger. I think we’re getting younger and younger, actually. I know a lot of us in our twenties.” God, she was babbling.

  Ash raised his eyebrows. How had he made his hair look good so quickly?

  “Is there a convention?” He put down the mugs.

  “Yeah,” Easton said, “and we bring our cats. It’s kind of a mess. Cats don’t like convention centers. It’s the soulless architecture, you know?”

  “Milk, please!” Penelope called from her chair. Easton was glad for the distraction.

  “Okay, you demanding little beast,” she said, and she slipped past Ash to find the baby’s sippy cup. Ash poured them coffee and then got sliced
bagels out of the freezer. When she was done with Penelope, Easton turned back to him. “What do you do, Ash? Yesterday, you were a businessman, and today, you look like a disaffected young creative who has sold himself into corporate hell.”

  Ash leaned against the counter beside the toaster.

  “You have a way with words, Easton,” he said, his arms crossed. “I…” He paused for a weirdly long time. “I work with the town council on a bunch of things. I guess I’m sort of mayor?”

  “Sort of mayor?”

  Ash nodded. He wasn’t going to give her anything else, clearly. “Before you ask, I don’t have one of the big gold chains.”

  Easton rolled her eyes.

  “Damn it! You read my mind. I wanted to see you in a huge amount of bling.” She felt her cheeks heating up. That wasn’t even innuendo—just the idea of how she really wanted to see him was enough, though. To distract them both, she said, “Good job on the hair. That took you all of five minutes.”

  Ash took a mock bow, and then he grabbed the bagels out of the toaster. “Thank you, thank you very much. Single father powers. Do you want cream cheese?”

  “Please. I’ll get it.” Easton opened the large fridge and located a tub of cream cheese. She wanted to keep her head in the fridge, but she didn’t think that was a very practical plan. Ash was bound to notice. She turned and handed him the cream cheese. His forearms looked great with his sleeves rolled up. Damn it, this was just because Hannah had told her she couldn’t… It wasn’t like she had even been intending to try anything. She’d just met the man, apart from him being her boss!

  There was suddenly a bagel in front of her on a plate. She almost jumped.

  “Thinking deep thoughts?” She looked up and met Ash’s eyes. She made a noise that didn’t mean anything, and then she took the proffered plate. Their thumbs brushed, and she nearly leapt backward. Ash was smiling a small smile, a teasing smile, Easton thought. It was a smile she could imagine in other contexts.

  Then Penelope saved her.

  “Down!” the girl demanded, smacking a small palm on the tray of the high chair.

  5

  Ash

  Ash rested his head on his steering wheel. The horn started, and he abruptly lifted his head again. What a cliché, having a crush on the nanny. And she was probably looking out the window now, wondering why he was waiting in the driveway honking his horn.

  There was a time when being an alpha was all commanding battles and protecting your pack, but these days, Ash really was sort of like a mayor. Today, he had open hours at his office in the Town Hall: a chance for every weirdo in town to come and moan at him. All the same, he loved his position. He loved his city. It was old and beautiful, and one of the first shifter settlements in the Americas. And one day, it would be Penelope’s. She would be one of the very few female alphas. The thought was a strange one. And he would never see it, he would be dead, that was how it worked.

  Ash pulled up at the Town Hall and hardly remembered his drive—he’d been so lost in thought. Mrs. Tucker was waiting for him at his office door.

  “Good morning,” she said as he walked in, backpack in hand. “Not very businesslike today, Ash.” She followed close behind him as she continued in a low voice, as though a lot of people were listening. “This is why an alpha needs a wife, young man.”

  Ash sighed and sat down, gesturing for Mrs. Tucker to sit opposite him.

  “Right,” he said. “I had one, remember?”

  Mrs. Tucker puckered her mouth up and shook her head. “Cheeky, young man. Rebecca was a good woman, but I always said she was too wild…”

  Ash leaned back in his chair and tried to relax so as not to shout at Mrs. Tucker. ‘Young man,’ for goodness’s sake. Then again, Mrs. Tucker was six-hundred years old.

  “I’m sure you didn’t come here just to talk about my dead wife, Mrs. Tucker. What’s the issue you’d like looked into?” Ash didn’t really need to ask this. It was always trash.

  Mrs. Tucker was obsessed with the trash washing up along the shore, both on the peninsula and the islands. She often brought samples with her. Ash wriggled in his seat to get comfortable, ready for Mrs. Tucker’s usual trash tirade. He even opened his mouth a little, ready to tell her this was an international issue caused by human overpopulation, global capitalism, and wastefulness.

  But then Mrs. Tucker said, “Well, I’ve a bag full of tin cans and plastic bags, but I trust you’re doing everything in your power to deal with the pack’s chronic trash issue.”

  Ash found himself frozen for a moment.

  “Uh… yes, of course,” he said, slowly opening his laptop in case he had to open a new file for once.

  “I mean, of course, I remember a time when our beaches were pristine. And when there was an issue, well, all the able-bodied men would be out and helping. Shipwrecks and the like. The odd beached whale. Our people have a real affinity with nature, or we used to…”

  Ash sank back into his chair again. Here was the speech.

  Mrs. Tucker blinked, shaking her head once. “But that’s not what I wanted to discuss with you, Ash. I heard, through the grapevine, that you have a new nanny?”

  Uh-oh. He should have thought of this.

  “I do,” Ash said carefully. “Her name is Easton, and she’s excellent. She also only started yesterday, so I’m not sure how the grapevine—”

  “I see,” Mrs. Tucker said, leaning forward. “And what pack does this girl belong to?”

  Ash knew the old woman knew the answer, but she wanted the pleasure of hearing him say it.

  “None,” Ash replied. “She’s human.”

  Mrs. Tucker let out an almost literal ‘humph’ noise. “And what would Rebecca think of that? What would your father think? Why, I knew him for years, and I don’t know what he’d do if he saw the state of this place now. And on top of that, his grandchild is being taken care of by a human! What happens when this girl finds out?”

  Ash was glad he had his laptop to hide his face behind.

  “I’ll make a note of your feelings, Mrs. Tucker,” he said, absolutely not making a note, but typing all the same.

  “Well, I think you should do something about it, not just make a note. I don’t know how we’re supposed to respect—”

  “Enough.” Ash held up a hand. “Thank you,” he said. “Penelope isn’t even two. We have years until her first shift and years until she’s rational enough to know what we are. Easton is very good at her job.”

  Mrs. Tucker’s arms were crossed now. “It doesn’t matter a jot how good she is, boy, she isn’t one of us. That little tyke of yours will be talking about Daddy being a bear before you know it, and you know where it will get your pet human? In trouble, that’s where. We’re not supposed to mix.”

  At this, Ash stood up. “Thank you for your concern. I have other pack members to see.”

  Mrs. Tucker shook her head. She stood up, and her bag jangled and crunched as she walked toward the door. Ash sat again, pinching the bridge of his nose. So, the grapevine. It was going to be a long day.

  “Come in!” Ash called in answer to a knock on his door. He took a deep breath and tried to look professional. “Hi, Mr. Lewis,” he said as the deputy-principal of the elementary school entered. Usually, he would be here to talk about water fountain pressure, but today, he stood squarely in front of Ash’s desk, feet planted apart.

  “What kind of an impression do you think you’re giving to the children of Sitka?” Alexander Lewis asked.

  Ash tented his fingers, the fingertips of one hand to the fingertips of the other. “I feel like you already have an answer to that question, Alexander.”

  Apart from one question about road safety and one about how to contact the nearby coven of witches, Ash’s day was a blur of accusations. He almost felt like a bad parent and a bad leader by the time he locked up his office—later than intended, of course. It was dark, and past Penelope’s bedtime, when he pulled up in front of their house. Despite himself,
despite the cliché he did not want to be right now, he was looking forward to seeing Easton. Maybe he was just looking forward to seeing an adult who wasn’t about to tell him he sucked.

  As he was unlocking the door, he realized he’d forgotten to get a second key cut. Damn it. He hung up his coat and his bag and walked into the kitchen. The house was quiet, and Easton was sitting at the kitchen island eating cookies. She looked a little guilty when she saw him.

  “I ate your cookies,” she said.

  “That’s okay,” Ash said with a smile. “Are there any left for me?”

  “A couple,” Easton said, holding the packet out. Ash took them, amused by her sheepishness.

  “Eat whatever you like,” he told her. “It’s fine.” He shoved a cookie in his mouth and went to the fridge for wine. Chewing his cookie, he mumbled, “I don’t drink a bottle every night, but I had the worst day. People are crazy.” He swallowed the cookie and turned around. He had forgotten about his daughter for a second. “Oh,” he said. “Did you…?” And he pointed to the ceiling.

  Easton nodded. “Yeah, she was spent. Sorry.”

  “No, her routine is important.” Ash shook his head. “I’ll go and see her in a minute. Would you like a glass?” he held up the wine.

  Easton shook her head, and Ash felt his heart sink a little. No adult conversation tonight, and no looking into her lovely sapphire-colored eyes. Was he being pushy? Was he being a weird boss?

  “I mean,” Easton said, “I would love to, but I promised Hannah I’d see her tonight. And she’s my only friend here, so…”

  “Not your only friend,” Ash said, and he knew he was smiling a dopey smile.

  Easton stood up, gave him that ever-so-slightly mocking smile he couldn’t stop thinking about, and said, “Only friend who doesn’t pay me, then!”

  Ouch. Maybe she’d just sat and talked last night because she wanted the job. Ash put the bottle on the side.