His Nanny Mate By Eve Above Story

“Fated mate?” I finished the sentence with a snort. “That doesn’t mean I should compromise on my

values. A mate should be someone who understands, respects, and shares them.” The elevator dinged

its arrival, pulling me out of the mental conversation. My apartment welcomed me with its familiar scent

and warmth. It was my sanctuary, the place where I felt the most like myself.

Moving to my room, I began to change out of my work attire a sleek pair of pants and a – form-fitting

white blouse. I slipped on a soft, oversized off-the-shoulder sweater that draped comfortably down one

arm.

The fabric was cozy against my skin, a gentle lavender hue that always seemed to calm me. I paired it

with a set of lounge shorts, the material cool and breathable. Freeing my blonde hair from its tight bun,

I relished the sensation of long, wavy locks cascading down my back. My fingers worked through the

almost-white strands, undoing any tangles and knots.

I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. The transformation from the poised, professional lawyer to a

relaxed, at-home Ella was always something to behold. My gray eyes stared back, a swirl of emotions

evident-confusion, frustration, and perhaps a touch of regret.

Shaking off the reflective moment, I moved to the kitchen. My hand hesitated over the cabinet door.

A moment later, I was pulling out a bottle of wine-a rich Merlot, its dark depths promising solace. I

retrieved a wine glass, the crystal gleaming under the kitchen lights. With practiced ease, I uncorked

the bottle, pouring the velvety liquid into the glass.

The aroma wafted up, notes of plum and cherry mingling with subtle hints of chocolate and spice.

Holding the glass, I stepped out onto the balcony. The city spread out before me, a mesh of twinkling

lights and distant sounds. I sipped the wine, the flavors dancing on my palate, soothing the disquiet in

my soul.

“Maybe… maybe I was a bit too harsh on him,” I admitted softly, more to myself than to my wolf. The

weight of the day’s events pressed down on me-the arguments, the passionate defenses, and the

regrettable words.

My wolf hummed in agreement, her presence a gentle embrace. “Everyone has their battles, Ella.

Perhaps Logan’s struggles are more complex than you realize. Remember, he’s navigating this world

just like you, even if his path is different than yours.”

I leaned against the railing, gazing out at the horizon. The night held both mysteries and answers, and

as the wine warmed me from the inside, I hoped to find a little bit of both.

The softly shimmering hues of the twilight painted the sky as I reclined on my little balcony, cradling a

glass of wine. The music from my playlist flowed gently, carrying the weight of my thoughts into the

breeze. It was one of those nights during which the stillness held a conversation with the heart.

Suddenly, the dreamlike trance was interrupted by the shrill buzzing of the doorbell. Annoyed, I

contemplated ignoring it, but curiosity had other plans. Glancing at the security monitor, I saw a familiar

figure. Logan.

With a reluctant sigh, I buzzed him in. What now? I thought. When the door creaked open, Logan

stood. there, an almost apologetic look on his face. In his hand, he clutched a bottle of wine-

presumably pricier than the one I had opened.

His gaze momentarily darted to my nearly empty glass. “Looks like I’m late to the party,” he remarked

with a hint of playfulness in his voice.

“One glass doesn’t make it a party,” I replied, arching an eyebrow. “And if you’re here to talk business,

you’re outside of office hours.” I couldn’t help the bite in my tone.

He held up the wine, the label catching the dim light. “No business, just…a peace offering. Thought we

could use it after today.”

I looked at him skeptically. “And why would I want to share wine with you after what transpired today?

Didn’t I make it clear that I didn’t want to see you tonight?”

He stepped inside without an invitation, running a hand through his dark hair. “Because I was wrong.

I’ve been pondering over our last conversation. And while I hate to admit it, you had a point. I acted on

impulse.”

The honesty in his voice surprised me. Taking a deep breath, I responded, “It’s not just about acting on

impulse. Once contracts are signed, it’s not easy to revert decisions, Logan. Legal battles can be

draining.”

He looked genuinely remorseful. “I should’ve listened, Ella. I see that now.” Hesitating, I gestured for

him to sit. There was something disarming about Logan when he let his guard down. I found another

glass and filled it with the wine he had brought.

“To better decisions,” I proposed, lifting my glass. “And to not being a stubborn ass,” he added, clinking

his glass against mine. His rueful smile was contagious.

As we sipped, we talked about everything other than work. I learned more about him in that hour than I

had in the entire time I’d known him so far. From his childhood tales to his dreams, from his favorite

music to the places he had traveled. Everything except his mother. I was beginning to see the layers

beneath the mafia facade.

As the night deepened and our glasses refilled, the ambiance changed. I played an old jazz number,

the soulful melody floating in the air. I noticed Logan’s foot tapping in rhythm. When I turned to grab

some snacks, he had moved closer. There was an intensity in his gaze that made my heart skip a beat.

“I’ve always loved this song,” he murmured, his voice almost a whisper. “It’s timeless.” I nodded in

agreement, getting lost in the soft saxophone notes that filled my apartment.

He cleared his throat, a hint of hesitation evident.

“Ella…

do you dance?”