Bear Pack's Nanny: A Reverse Harem Romance (Nanny Shifter Service Book 5) Read online

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  Bear Pack’s Nanny

  A Reverse Harem Romance

  Nanny Shifter Service

  By: Sky Winters

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  Table of Contents

  Bear Pack’s Nanny: A Reverse Harem Romance

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  CHAPTER 10

  CHAPTER 11

  CHAPTER 12

  CHAPTER 13

  CHAPTER 14

  CHAPTER 15

  CHAPTER 16

  CHAPTER 17

  CHAPTER 18

  CHAPTER 19

  CHAPTER 20

  CHAPTER 21

  CHAPTER 22

  CHAPTER 23

  CHAPTER 24

  CHAPTER 25

  CHAPTER 26

  Preview of Daddy Dragon: Nanny Shifter Service

  About The Author

  Bear Pack’s Nanny: A Reverse Harem Romance

  CHAPTER 1

  CASSIE

  Cassie Mayer watched with eager eyes as the hulking form of the black bear approached the small dear. She couldn’t believe what she was seeing—bears were rare enough in Vermont, and she knew enough about them to know they tended not to eat live prey.

  She squatted down behind the shrub, her camera in hand as she watched the bear slowly approaching. Cassie knew this was a once-in-a-lifetime shot, and she was going to need all her artistic skills to capture it.

  The bear moved closer and closer, its fur as dark as India ink. Cassie couldn’t believe how something so big and fearsome could move with such grace. She held her camera steady, waiting for the pounce.

  Then it happened. The bear lunged forward, its teeth glistening in the afternoon sun. It brought its claws up, and even from her distance Cassie could see how sharp they were. The bear brought down all its weight on the deer, taking it down like it was nothing.

  And Cassie snapped and snapped.

  She shuddered when the scene got too gory. When she felt she’d gotten her shots, she slipped her camera back into her bag and headed back to her car. She began her drive back to the suburban Boston home that she shared with her boyfriend, Chris Wilt.

  Once back home, she went to work, going through the photos, editing them, and printing them out. Chris would be back from work soon, and she wanted to have them ready to show him when he got back.

  Not that he’d care, she thought to herself as she clicked the “print” button on her photo editing program.

  But Cassie knew she didn’t make her art because of other people’s approval. She took pictures and painted and drew because she loved it. Her small studio, more like a closet, was packed full of supplies.

  She heard the front door open as soon as she’d finished mounting the pictures. Cassie held the one she was most proud of in front of her face—the shot of the bear in mid-ponce. She knew it was one of the best pictures she’d ever taken.

  “Hey, baby!” she said, approaching her boyfriend as he stepped through the front door.

  Chris was dressed in his usual dark suit, his sandy-blonde hair slicked back. His thin face was in its usual expression of frustration and weariness. He sighed, as he set his leather bag down on the small table next to the front door.

  Cassie threw her arms around him and planted a kiss on his baby-smooth cheek.

  “Ugh, not now,” said Chris, slipping his hands under Cassie’s arms and breaking her hug. “Can I come in and relax for a minute without you jumping on me?”

  “I just wanted to greet you as you came in,” she said.

  “Well, I’m worn out and want to sit down,” he said.

  Cassie was disappointed, but by now she was used to this sort of thing. Chris was always cranky and annoyed when he came home from his job at the finance firm; it was only a matter of how cranky.

  Sometimes he was just annoyed and wanted to be alone. Other times he was angry and wanted to drink. Cassie hated those nights—she knew how they usually ended up for her.

  “Um, go ahead and sit down, then,” said Cassie.

  “Finally, you say something I want to hear,” he said. “And get me a drink in the meantime, would you?”

  Cassie winced at this. Not because it was any meaner than how he usually treated her but because he’d barely been in the house for five minutes, and already he wanted a drink.

  She decided to try her luck.

  “How about instead of something to drink, I make you something good for dinner?”

  Cooking was one of Cassie’s other talents. She considered it just as artistic as any of her other hobbies, and she loved to spend a few hours in the kitchen.

  “Did I say I wanted something to eat?” barked Chris over his shoulder as he headed toward the living room. “I said I wanted a drink.”

  So much for that idea, Cassie considered. Knowing there was no getting out of it, Cassie went to the kitchen and prepared a whiskey and soda, which was his usual drink. She briefly considered watering down the booze in hopes of staving off the drunkenness she knew was coming, but she’d tried that before and it didn’t work out well in the least for her.

  Drink in hand, she stepped into the living room where Chris had already plopped onto the couch and turned on the TV. She handed him his drink and he snatched it from her hand without looking at her. Chris brought it to his lips and took a long sip, draining nearly all of it.

  “You know what?” he said, his eyes still on the TV. “You might as well make me another one while you’re up.”

  He killed the whiskey and stuck the glass out to Cassie, rattling the ice.

  “How about this,” she said. “I’ll make you another drink if you let me show you some of the pictures I took today. They’re really cool, and I think you might like them.”

  Chris shook his head in frustration.

  “Fine,” he said. “Just get the drink.”

  Cassie’s heart jumped a little in excitement. She loved to make art just for herself, but she also loved showing off what she’d created with others. She knew Chris wasn’t the most interested audience in the world, but she loved sharing her work with him anyway, hoping against hope that one day she’d show him something that broke through to him.

  As she gathered the pictures, Cassie couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to date someone who cared about what she was passionate about, maybe even a fellow artist who shared her loves.

  She shook her head, dismissing the thought. Cassie thought back to Brad, the musician she’d dated years ago. Though “musician” would be putting it generously—he spent most of his time on the couch getting high and playing video games. That is, when he wasn’t sponging money off Cassie.

  Cassie thought dating a man like Chris would be different. He was successful, driven, and always had money. So much, in fact, that he insisted Cassie not work. At first, she was happy to have more time to spend on her art, but as the months passed and Chri
s’ bad habits came out more and more, she realized her staying at home was more about control than anything else.

  Cassie came back into the living room, the TV droning on. She was shocked to see that Chris had beaten her to getting a drink, going ahead and bringing the bottle of whiskey into the room.

  “You took too fucking long,” he said, filling himself another glass. “Now, what is it you wanted to show me?”

  Cassie picked up the TV and hit mute.

  “I was out in the woods today outside of town and I took these really amazing shots of a black bear. Check them out.”

  She handed the photos over to Chris. He took another deep sip of his whiskey, set it down, and took the photos. Cassie waited expectantly as he looked them over, one by one.

  Finally, he set them down and spoke.

  “How much time did you spend taking these pictures?”

  Cassie was a little shocked by the question. And she could tell by the glassy look in his eyes that he was well on his way to getting drunk.

  “Um, I don’t know,” she said. “Maybe a few hours?”

  “And is that what you spend all day doing?” he asked.

  Cassie realized he couldn’t care less about the pictures.

  “What’s wrong with that?” she asked. “It’s not like you’ll let me work; I have to do something with my free time.”

  “I don’t ‘let’ you work because it’s not a good look for a man like me to have his girlfriend working,” he said, his words slurring slightly. “But I don’t have you stay here all day, so you can spend hours in the damn woods taking pictures of bears!”

  Cassie was getting upset. This was just another example in a long list of Chris thinking her passions were silly and pointless.

  “What would you rather me do?” she asked. “Spend all day getting lunch and shopping?”

  “What’s wrong with that?” he asked. “At least it’s normal; at least that wouldn’t involve you out in the fuckin’ wilderness!”

  Cassie took a deep breath, her eyes drifting down to the neglected pictures. She knew arguing with Chris would only makes things worse. But she couldn’t help but stick up for herself.

  “You asked me to move in knowing that art is what I was passionate about. And now that I’m here, living with you, you seem like you want me to give it all up!”

  Cassie noticed her tone had risen—one of Chris’ pet peeves.

  “Did you just raise your voice to me?” he asked, his eyes narrowing in anger. “What the fuck did I tell you about raising your voice to me?”

  Chris grabbed the photos from the couch and whipped them across the room, the mounted pictures hitting the wall with a thud. He knocked back the rest of his drink and stood up, towering over Cassie.

  Chris had never laid a hand on Cassie. But she wondered if this might be the time he crossed that line.

  “I’m at work all goddamn day, and when I get home all I want is to have a fucking drink and relax. But I can’t do that without you trying to show me this middle-school-art-project shit!”

  Chris knew just how to press Cassie’s buttons, how to make her upset. She felt tears well in her eyes.

  But tonight, she had enough.

  “No one asked you to pay for me to stay trapped in this…damn house all day!” she said. “I’ve got a life, and you just want me stored away in here like some trophy you can show off whenever you want!”

  His eyes narrowed into hard slits; his hands formed into fists.

  “You know how many women would kill for what you have?” he yelled, gesturing to the house around him. “How many would swap places with you in a heartbeat? And all I ask is that you give me my space when I want it, and that you act like a normal fucking woman!”

  Anger boiled in Cassie, anger she’d never known before. At that moment, she hated Chris, hated his money, hated his house, hated everything about him.

  “Fuck you!”

  The words shot out of Cassie’s mouth as if she had no control over them.

  Chris took in a slow, deep breath.

  “What did you say to me?” he asked.

  Cassie knew this was her chance, that she could take it back and maybe dampen Chris’ anger. But she didn’t care—she’d had enough.

  “I said, ‘fuck you’.”

  The words felt like shards of ice on Cassie’s lips. It felt good to say.

  Before she could react, his hand shot out and grabbed Cassie by the throat. He squeezed her hard, hard enough to cut off her airflow. Cassie tried to break his grip as he held her, but he was too strong. She struggled to breathe.

  “You ungrateful little bitch!”

  With that, he threw her hard against the nearest wall, her slim body slamming into it and sending pictures dropping off onto the ground, the glass shattering.

  Cassie’s body throbbed with pain. Chris glanced down with drunk eyes and surveyed the mess.

  “Now, clean that up or you’ll get what I gave you but worse.”

  Cassie’s neck throbbed from where Chris had grabbed her. But she knew there was nothing she could do.

  Not right now, at least.

  She kept her expression calm, despite the tears trickling down her face. After grabbing the broom from the kitchen and cleaning up the glass, she took one last look at Chris, sitting drunk on the couch watching TV, before heading upstairs to the bedroom she shared.

  As soon as the door was shut, she decided.

  This was it. Tonight, she left.

  CHAPTER 2

  CASSIE

  Cassie spent the next hour moving quietly through the house, gathering her essentials. She took her camera, her art supplies, and whatever clothes could fit into a small suitcase. It pained her to leave her art behind, all the work she’d created over the last year with Chris, but there just wasn’t time or room enough to take it.

  She knew her escape had to be quick and quiet. The more she brought, the more chance she had of getting found out by Chris. And him knowing that she was leaving was the last thing Cassie wanted.

  The evening went on, and by the time nine rolled around, Cassie decided to check in on Chris. Sure enough, he was passed out drunk, his head resting on his shoulder, his hand still wrapped around a half-finished drink.

  Cassie knew this was it—now or never.

  She hurried upstairs and grabbed her phone and keys and bag. Then, once she was ready, she made her way slowly down the stairs. At the front door, she took one last look at the house, the place she’d called home for the last year and stepped out into the cool night air.

  Cassie rushed over to her car and threw her belongings into the backseat. She got behind the wheel, started the engine, and pulled out onto the street.

  Her heart raced as she made her escape. She knew she was crossing a point of no return, that her old life with Chris was now over, and that there was no going back. Cassie glanced at her reflection in the rearview mirror, noting the red marks on her neck from where Chris had grabbed her.

  Cassie drove, stopping at a gas station and filling up. But as she pumped, she realized she didn’t have a destination in mind. She’d left knowing only that she had to leave—where she was going to end up was something she hadn’t even considered.

  She’d moved to Boston for college, leaving behind her family in Oregon. Going back there was an option, but it would be a huge trek. Cassie only had a little bit of cash and knew it was only a matter of time before Chris wised up to the fact that she’d left, cancelling her phone and credit cards as soon as he did.

  Then she remembered Bess—her aunt who lived in Burlington, up in Vermont. It’d been years since she’d spoken to her aunt but had fond memories of going there as a little girl with her family, spending afternoons out in the woods that surrounded Bess’s home, taking her first pictures.

  Bess was her only option. Cassie pulled up Bess’s contact information in her phone and set the map to her house. She knew Bess could very well turn her out, tell her there wasn’t any way she could
take in Cassie.

  But she had to try.

  Cassie climbed back in her car and started in the direction of Burlington. The highways were desolate, and she had nightmare images in her mind of Chris somehow coming to, realizing she’d left, and chasing her down on the highway.

  After a few hours of driving, the stress of the day took hold of her. She pulled off to the side of the road at a rest stop, locked the car, and got in a few hours of restless sleep. Her dreams were filled with images of Chris. In the dreams he loomed over her by dozens of feet, and despite her best attempts to get away, he followed her wherever she went.

  She awoke as the sun was coming up through the trees that surrounded the rest stop. Cassie hopped behind the steering wheel and pulled back onto the road as fast as possible. Checking her phone, she saw she didn’t yet have any texts from Chris—but he’d be up in an hour or two, and she shuddered to think what would happen then.

  As she drove, Cassie pulled up Bess’s number and wrote a text.

  Cassie: Hi, Aunt Bess! I know it’s been a long time since we’ve seen each other, but I’m having kind of an emergency, and I need some place to stay, just for a little while. Is there any chance I could come to your place?

  She awaited the response, her stomach tense. Cassie had no idea what she would do is Bess said no.

  When the phone buzzed a few minutes later, Cassie’s hand shot out to grab it.

  Bess: Of course, baby! Come as soon as you can and stay if you want.

  Relief washed over Cassie. She tucked her phone back into her pocket and followed the directions it had told her.

  After thirty minutes, she arrived at the small country cottage-style home where her aunt lived. Just like she remembered, the place was surrounded by gorgeous woodlands, a big green backyard stretching out into forever behind the home. It was on the outskirts of Burlington, and Cassie knew she’d have plenty of privacy here.

  Her aunt stepped out onto the porch to greet her as Cassie pulled her car to a stop in front. Her aunt was a trim woman with long gray hair and a warm smile, her small body wrapped in an orange-and-red shawl.