My Single Daddy Alpha

BrattWell, this was the best day of my life.It wasn’t every morning that a beautiful woman ran into you like a speeding train, but I wasn’t one to complain. At least not until I saw her blue eyes roll and flutter with the impact.My coffee splattered all over my black T-shirt, seeping through to my skin. Lucky for morning-jog Barbie that my temperature tended to run a bit higher thanks to the lycan blood coursing through my veins. A toasty 104.9 was the standard temperature for a grown wolf, which made it harder for us to burn from warm liquids.I’d be lying if I didn’t say I was disappointed that the sexy little blonde didn’t laugh at my joke straight away, but at the speed she was running, running into me probably felt a lot more like running into a solid oak tree rather than a person. When she wobbled a bit, I quickly grabbed her forearm to steady her.What followed thereafter was an adorable litany of the small woman fretting over me. There was something strangely endearing abou

I couldn’t believe it.The hot lumberjack I’d plowed into earlier that morning was standing right there.And he’d just whistled loud enough to bring a speeding freeway to a screeching stop.Rounding up the kids, I made my way over to Paulette and discreetly asked if she could take them inside. I wanted to say hello to the handsome stranger and at least get a name.All throughout the morning, I’d struggled to get that crooked smile and the smell of him off my mind. I’d done just about a million other things that morning to get ready for my first day. I got that chamomile tea and took a Lyft home, where I took a scalding shower, got dressed, and prepared goodie bags for the kids before finally hopping in my car to drive to work.All that time, I couldn’t stop thinking about him. I regretted not getting a name or at least buying him another coffee to make up for the one I ruined.If he was here, that meant he was a parent. That was confirmed when one of the kids broke off from the group

BRATT. It was strange to walk up the stairs and into the office without Noah clinging to me like a little koala bear. Sylvia, my administrative assistant, was at her desk and gave me a knowing look when she saw me. “How’s our boy doing?” she asked. “There was a moment where he latched onto my leg—first-day nerves and all that. His teacher is really great with him, though. Got him to go in willingly. No tears at all.” “I’m glad Noah’s doing well, Bratt, but I was asking about you.” I blinked, momentarily confused, then laughed. I sat on the edge of her desk, bending one knee. “Is it that obvious?” “I’ve known you since before Noah was born, so I do like to think I have an eye for your moods.” Sylvia’s eyes crinkled. “Plus, I’ve raised a litter of my own. I remember the first day of school very well.” I nodded and exhaled heavily. “I feel like I’m missing a limb. It’s taking just about everything in me not to turn around and take him out of school.” “You’ll get used to it in no

We really had to stop bumping into each other. Every single time I ran into Bratt Lucas, it got harder and harder to say no to him—to myself. I wondered if he was aware of the way the world around me had gone quiet when I saw him looking at me from the bar. I wondered if he could hear the way my heart had pounded against my sternum when he slid off of his barstool and walked over to our table. “We have to stop running into each other like this,” he said, looking right. My heart throttled as alarm bells went off in my mind. This man was a shifter, the very thing I’d sworn myself off of after Wyatt. More than that, he was the father of one of my students. I’d only just got my life back. I couldn’t risk losing it again. But the power and confidence about him… The perfect body and flawlessly groomed facial hair… The smell of him. It felt as if I was wandering through a desert, starving and parched, and he was a spread of the most decadent foods and the promise of a cold drink of water.

BRATT. Taking Noah to my folks’ place was always a treat for everyone involved. I usually got to eat an amazing homecooked meal with my parents, Noah got to be spoiled by his grandparents, and Mom and Dad got a chance to spend time with their only grandson. My mother, while identifying primarily as a shifter, had a lot of Italian heritage in her bloodline. In fact, she was the first generation born in the States to my late grandparents after they immigrated. Because of that, food had always been equated with love in my household, and we ate a lot of amazing food. Now that my parents were retired, my mother spent most of her time improving old recipes. Buying her a pasta press for Christmas a couple of years prior was the best and worst decision I ever made. When we pulled up outside of the house, even Travis could smell the fresh garlic and butter from outside their beachfront bungalow. “Holy shit,” he said as we climbed out of the car. “Uncle Travis! Bad word!” “I know, I know