Daddy Wolf's Nanny Read online

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  NYC Vamps Book 1

  Bear Mountain Shifters Book 1

   Copyright 2018 by Sky Winters- All rights reserved.

  In no way is it legal to reproduce, duplicate, or transmit any part of this document in either electronic means or in printed format. Recording of this publication is strictly prohibited and any storage of this document is not allowed unless with written permission from the publisher. All rights reserved.

  Respective authors own all copyrights not held by the publisher.

  Daddy Wolf’s Nanny

  Nanny Shifter Service

  By: Sky Winters

  Click to Receive a Free Copy of NYC Vamps: The Prequel and join Sky Winters Newsletter

  Table of Contents

  Daddy Wolf’s Nanny: Nanny Shifter Service

  CHAPTER 1

  CHAPTER 2

  CHAPTER 3

  CHAPTER 4

  CHAPTER 5

  CHAPTER 6

  CHAPTER 7

  CHAPTER 8

  CHAPTER 9

  Bonus Stories

  NYC Vamps Book 1

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  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

  Bear Mountain Shifters Book 1

  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

  ComeShift Bonus

  Bear Shifter Bonus

  Prview of Daddy Dragon: Nanny Shifter Service

  Preview of Daddy Wolf: Silver Wolves MC

  Preview of Secret of the Wolf: Silver Wolves MC

  Preview of Bear Mountain Baby

  Preview of Bear Mountain Biker

  About The Author

  Daddy Wolf’s Nanny: Nanny Shifter Service

  CHAPTER 1

  "…and it ended up being the second time in the last month that I had to go to Cincinnati for work."

  "Oh, really? Crazy."

  "Yep. I mean, don't get me wrong – it's a lovely city. But I'd much rather do my work here in New York. Just hate being away from the food for even a day. For instance, did I tell you about this amazing little cronut place in Williamsburg that my coworkers and I went to? The line was out the door, but the cronuts were amazing. I got this one with balsamic vinegar and…"

  It took every bit of restraint Ingrid Parker had to not drop her face into her salad, and fall asleep in the middle of the restaurant.

  I hate Tinder, she thought as Richard, the man sitting across from her and possibly the most boring of all the dates she'd been on in the last few months, blabbed on and on about one thing or another, his voice a steady drone. His tone was so sleep-inducing that part of her wanted to record it and use it in place of the white noise app she sometimes used to help get to sleep.

  "And what did you say you were?" asked Richard, looking his fleshy face up at Ingrid from his salmon salad. "A waitress?"

  On top of how boring he was, Richard also didn't have the decency to be mildly attractive. His hair was thinning and combed into a terrible comb-over, his face looked, to Ingrid, like that of a snooty pig, and his terribly unstylish clothes seemed to have been pulled right from the bottom of the hamper.

  "A nanny," said Ingrid.

  God, she thought, wanting to shake her head in disbelief. If this guy's going to yak about his job nonstop, the least he could do is remember mine.

  "Hmm," he said, "not really much room for advancement opportunities in that. Have you considered getting into a different field? I know insurance sales groups are always hiring. Pay might not be that great to start off, but I'm sure it's better than what you're making now."

  Holy shit, thought Ingrid. Now this guy's giving me career advice? And managing to insult my job in the process. Real charmer, this one.

  Ingrid poked at her salad listlessly, shoving down a few bites quickly in the hopes that the faster she ate, the faster she could arrive at the end of the date.

  "I need to use the little boy's room," said Richard. "I'll be back in a bit, cutie-pie."

  Ingrid watched him stand up and leave the table, her eyes wide.

  He did not just call me "cutie pie," she thought. No fucking way.

  As she watched him leave, she took note of the fact that on top of everything else, he was short. Even the tiny, cute waitresses in the place seemed to tower over him.

  As soon as he was out of sight, Ingrid slumped down in her seat and let out a dramatic sigh. Her phone buzzed on the table and she shot her hand out to check it, hoping it was anything more exciting than what she was doing at the moment.

  How's this one? Another charmer? ;)

  Ingrid shook her head and smiled. The text was from Katelyn Abernathy, one of the two teenage daughters of the family where she worked as a nanny. Over the course of the last year that Ingrid had spent in the family's employ, the two of them had become especially close, and now that Katelyn was at the age when boys occupied just about every waking thought she had, Ingrid had brought her in on the gossip, trials, and tribulations of just what it's like to be an adult dating in the city. The PG version, of course, not that she had anything particularly X-rated to discuss. All Ingrid had to report these days was an endless procession of terrible Tinder dates and gross men hitting on her at whatever bar she'd head into for a quick drink on the weekend.

  Ingrid: The less said, the better. But you can probably expect me home extra early tonight.

  Katelyn: Yikes, that bad? Maybe you can pay me to screen these guys in advance.

  Ingrid: You know, that's not a bad idea : )

  Richard arrived back at the table as soon as Ingrid fired off the last text.

  "I swear, you girls can't go five minutes without playing on those things," said Richard.

  Ingrid sighed slowly, part of her wanting to bite his head off right then and there.

  "I'm a nanny, so I have to keep in contact with the kids. Just part of the job."

  Richard nodded, and Ingrid wondered, for a moment, if he was letting the issue drop.

  "That's another nice thing about the insurance industry – you can just leave the job at the office when you're done. You know, you don't have to deal with bratty kids all day."

  "They're actually great kids, but I'll keep your career suggestions in mind."

  "Good," said Richard. "A girl your age can't afford to waste any time with finding a good job. Not to mention getting married and having children."

  Does this guy not realize I'm twenty-three? she thought.

  And as far as marriage and children, the thought was almost overwhelming to her. Sure, she'd dreamed of getting married just like every other girl
, but the thought of being a mother was just too much for her to handle at this stage in her life. Part of her wanted it, and the other was terrified at the possibility. Most of the time, she felt as though being a nanny was as close as she was capable of coming to that particular subject for the time being.

  Ingrid dragged herself through the rest of her dinner and thanked the Lord above when the check came. Thankfully, Richard slipped out his card and placed it onto the check as soon as it came; Ingrid was half-expecting him to ask her to pay. But she couldn't help but internally roll her eyes as he handed the checkbook back – he gave Ingrid this sly little look as he did, as though he wanted to make sure she saw he was paying for everything.

  "So," said Richard. "Where do you live?"

  Please don't tell me he's going to try to make a move or something, thought Ingrid. I don't know if I can take any more of this.

  "Just a few blocks away," said Ingrid. "I live with my nanny family here in the village."

  "Impressive," said Richard. "And can I ask who the family is?"

  "Um, they're called the Abernathys. The parents are Melinda and Paul."

  Richard raised his eyebrows.

  "Wait a minute," he said. "That wouldn't be the Paul Abernathy, would it? As in, ‘deputy mayor’ Paul Abernathy?"

  "One and the same."

  Ingrid was, at this point, used to her dates being more than a little impressed when she told them just who she worked for. But she hated most of all what never failed to come next.

  "Say," said Richard, drumming his fingers on the table in thought. "You don't think there's any way I could meet with him, do you? My boss has some proposals he's been itching to get in front of government high-ups’ eyes, and this might be just the chance."

  Always networking, thought Ingrid. These New York career guys are always the same.

  "He's really busy, but I'll see what I can do," said Ingrid.

  And as though with superhuman speed, Richard pulled out a business card and shoved it in Ingrid's hands.

  "You're awesome," said Richard.

  "Um, shall we?" asked Ingrid.

  "We shall," said Richard. "Come on, I'll walk you home."

  Ingrid was eager to get home, so she agreed. Moments later, they were out of the restaurant and back onto the evening streets of the west village, the night quiet and the weather mild.

  "This was a lovely evening," said Richard. "The food was great, and the company was beyond compare."

  Ingrid wanted to roll her eyes. She could never understand how she'd get to the end of a miserable date and the guys were always so confident that the evening went perfectly. She swore there was something in the water in New York that made the men both totally boring and delusional.

  "Yeah, the food was good," Ingrid said, doing her best not to have to totally lie.

  As they walked toward Ingrid's place, she tried to focus on her surroundings. Though she was on the fence about New York, she had found herself falling in love just a bit with the West Village where she stayed. The roads were quiet and charming, unlike the bustling atmosphere of the rest of Manhattan, and the townhouses and apartment buildings were quaint alternatives to the ultra-modern condos springing up all over the city. However, as she looked over the townhomes, she knew that, as expensive as they were, they were probably always out of reach for a girl like her. Staying in one as a nanny was likely the closest she'd ever get.

  They eventually reached the stately façade of the Abernathy's townhome. Richard looked up at it appreciatively.

  "This is quite the place," he said, raising his eyebrows again. "I suppose when you're a mover and shaker like Paul Abernathy these are the sort of digs you can afford."

  "I guess so," she said, annoyed with how much time guys like Richard spent worrying about other men's jobs, and the things they could afford with them.

  "Well," said Richard, turning toward Ingrid, the two of them standing in a pool of light from the street lamp above, "I had a lovely time, and I'd certainly enjoy seeing you again."

  With that, he closed his eyes and placed his hands on Ingrid's hips.

  Oh no, she thought. He's gonna do it; he's really gonna do it.

  Sure enough, he puckered his gross little lips and moved in toward Ingrid. But right before he reached the point when she was going to have to react one way or another, a voice called out from above.

  "Yo, Ingrid!" shouted the familiar voice of Katelyn. "Get that sexy ass of yours upstairs and help me pack!"

  Richard's eyes shot open and he turned up to face the noise. A wave of relief washed over Ingrid as she looked up at Katelyn's face in one of the townhome's second-story windows, a smart-ass smile on her pretty features.

  "Sorry, miss!" shouted Ingrid. "I'll be right up."

  She turned to Richard.

  "So! Nice night, see you around!" she said, already hurrying up the gray stone stairs leading to the front door.

  "Um, same to you!" he said. "Don't forget about the business ca-"

  But before he could finish his sentence, Ingrid had already shut the door behind her. Leaning back against the door, she spotted Katelyn and her twin sister Annie standing on the grand spiral staircase leading to the second floor, eager smirks on their faces.

  "Oh my God," said Ingrid. "Thank you so much."

  "Don't worry about it," said Katelyn. "That guy looked like a total dork."

  "Yeah," said Annie. "If I had to kiss that guy, I'd probably throw up or something."

  "I was probably about two seconds from that," said Ingrid.

  Minutes later, the three of them were in the sleek, modern kitchen of the townhome, seated at the kitchen bar and dishing about the date. The two fraternal twins, both blonde, with slim, attractive faces and wide, blue eyes, listened to Ingrid go over the details. Ingrid always thought it was cute how they lapped up every detail of Ingrid's life in the dating world, as though she were some expert on the subject and not someone who seemed to be destined for romantic failure.

  "Ugh, he wanted to meet with dad too?" asked Katelyn, rolling her eyes. "These guys are such losers."

  "Yeah," said Annie, "don't guys know that's, like, the lamest thing to talk about on a date?"

  "That's New York for you," said Ingrid. "Every guy only thinks about one thing. Um, well, two things. One being his job."

  "And the other?" asked Katelyn.

  "That," came the voice of Paul Abernathy from the other room, "is something that neither of you is going to need to worry about for a long, long time. Forever, hopefully."

  Paul Abernathy strolled into the kitchen, his slim frame clad in his usual stylish suit.

  "Shouldn't you two be finishing packing?" he said. "We're driving to Massachusetts first thing in the morning, after all."

  A pang of sadness hit Ingrid at the reminder that this was the last night of her time with the Abernathy's. Both of the girls had been accepted to Harvard and were driving up tomorrow morning to begin the semester. Ingrid couldn't believe she'd already been working here for a year and a half, and was wondering just what she was going to be doing next.

  "Fine," said Annie, getting up from her seat.

  "We'll talk later," said Ingrid as the two girls left the kitchen.

  Moments later, it was just Ingrid and Paul in the kitchen.

  "So," he said, pouring himself a small glass of whiskey. "Last day on the job. And I'm assuming that if you're already back, your date didn't go all that hot."

  He gestured to Ingrid with the bottle, and after a moment of thinking, she nodded and he poured her a glass.

  "The less said about the date, the better," she said. "And yeah, I can't believe tomorrow's it – they're gone in the morning."

  "Well," said Paul, "like I said, this place is going to be empty as can be with just me here, so you can stay for as long as you need to while you look for a new gig."

  "Thanks, Mr. Abernathy," said Ingrid, wondering how a handsome, well-connected man like Paul had managed to stay single for so long. />
  "Don't worry about it," he said. "And if it's your last day, the least you could do is call me ‘Paul,' like I've been saying you should for the last year."

  He flashed her a warm smile as he sipped his whiskey.

  "Sorry…Paul," said Ingrid, blushing a little bit.

  Trim and handsome-faced, Paul was definitely what Ingrid would consider a "silver fox." But he wasn't really the flirting type, and always kept their relationship friendly but professional. And Ingrid was fine with this, though she couldn't help but fantasize every now and then about making it something more.

  "Let me ask you something," said Paul, leaning back on the kitchen counter behind him and raising his glass thoughtfully. "How do you like living in the city?"

  "As in New York?"

  "As in New York. And be honest – just because I work for it doesn't mean I can't take an honest opinion."

  "Um, well," said Ingrid, looking away. "it's...nice."

  Paul chuckled.

  "'Nice' is what people say about things when they're too afraid to share their real opinions," he said. "Now, let's hear it. Or I'm gonna do some shots with you until the booze loosens your tongue."

  Ingrid smiled. "Well, to be honest, I don't really care for it," she said, dragging her finger along the rim of her glass. "I mean, I always dreamed about moving here since I was little, and, well, the city's beautiful and there is all sorts of cool stuff here, I just never felt like I could make this place a home. I know that's vague, but that's just what's been gnawing at me for the last year. I mean, I love working with you and the girls, but I keep thinking about what I'm going to be doing after Katelyn and Annie go to college, and it just seems like everything I want involves me leaving."

  Paul nodded.

  "It's not vague – it makes total sense. If you don't feel at home somewhere, then you're not going to do the things that make that place into a home for you. You know, like make friends, find a significant other, all that. The dissatisfaction this creates makes building a foundation difficult."

  Ingrid knew there was truth to Paul's words, and that during her time in the city, she hadn't even bothered to make a single friend. And her dating life had been an endless string of go-nowhere Tinder dates she forced herself to go on. She told herself it was because she was busy with work, which she was, but deep down, she knew it was because she really didn't have any sort of desire to put down roots here.