Beaufort Creek Shifters (10 book series)
Daddy’s Innocent Mate Chapter 2

Francine

What a nightmare of a parent.

In all my years of teaching kids of various ages, I had never met a more self-absorbed helicopter dad than Elias Shaw. His invasive gaze and hovering stance put me on edge while I spoke to him and his tank of a friend, who seemed intent on disrupting my classroom procedures. Having Dante here wasn't a problem until someone came in and messed with my routine.

Someone like Elias wouldn't understand that, of course. He was more preoccupied with nitpicking his son's care, obsessing over his motorcycle, and doing a poor job of keeping up with his neighborhood.

Give him a break, Franny, I heard my mother say in the back of my mind. No matter the distance, her reason and logic typically broke through my cluttered thoughts. He's been missing his child for ages. He's probably just trying to get back into the swing of things. That would be just like my mother, wouldn't it? Compassion had always been her calling. For me, it was a bit different. Her understanding and empathy never quite rubbed off on me. While it was easy for me to dish out compassion to children, I had a hard time with adults. Mostly because adults knew better.

And with knowing better came doing better.

This was the state of my brain as I approached the suddenly amplified playtime energy of my classroom. With Dante perched on my hip and Archie diligently guarding my left side, I was able to get the kids under control. Dean and Bennie had been wound up to the max by Isaiah. But with Archie, Pamela, and Shannon helping, we were able to transition to quiet reading time.

Dante babbled on my hip. I adjusted him and then switched arms to ease the tension in my back. I knew those two knuckleheads still hadn't left. The lingering scent of mint and spice mixed with irritated sweat told me Elias was hovering in the doorway. Heated whispers were exchanged. A few curse words floated around that drew my attention.

By the time I turned around, the boys had disappeared, but what clung to the air was years of parenting gone wrong. Elias was probably trying to figure things out. But he had been granted weeks of time to figure things out. I wasn't sure why he was fumbling so hard. We had two alphas now. There was no excuse for him to be so cavalier about his adjustment.

Lucky for me, my parents had instilled in me a strong sense of independence. Kids weren't exactly on my radar as far as raising them. Teaching them, however, had become important to me at a young age. I was good at teaching; I was bad at parenting. Sure, it didn't make much sense to anyone else except me. Students could go home at the end of the day while kids stayed in the same house.

And I wasn't one of those weird, hateful sorts of teachers either. I put my students' needs first and made sure everything aligned with the rules of the classroom. There were some occasions when rules had to be bent. But for the most part, kids were highly receptive to procedures and rules. When they weren't, it was usually because their parents weren't doing the same thing at home.

I wished I could say it wasn't my problem, but unfortunately, it would remain my problem until Elias figured it out. That was something my mother would probably recommend to me too.

Let people make mistakes.

I sighed. What good was being a good teacher if there was always a parent who got in the way of it? And never mind how good-looking of a parent he was when he flexed his agitated brows in a disappointing furrow or shrugged his wavy, almond-brown braids over his shoulder. Men like Elias were used to getting what they wanted purely based on their looks. I wasn't sucked in so easily.

My features snapped from worriedly thoughtful to approving when Shannon, one of my oldest students at about fourteen years, settled one of our youngest, Inez, into her lap for some light reading. But focusing on them hardly got rid of Elias's image in my mind. Good looks, great ass, I thought, despite my insistence that I should focus on my classroom. At most, he's perfect eye candy. Too bad he has a bad attitude.

But that was the worst part-his attitude. It seemed to steam up his handsome features with a ruggedness that called to me just like my career had called to me. He looked a bit like Alpha Troy, save for the fact that Elias had white spots in his right eye. Otherwise, the amber was undisturbed by anything else. He was a bit shorter than Troy too, with a much more compact muscular frame that told me he could probably work under the hood of a car all day.

Whenever the cousins stood next to each other, they appeared almost total opposites. Elias had a rough exterior with a smug face and a smile that spoke a little too proudly of his vices and adventures. He had more experience than most of the men I had dated in college. One section of my brain was highly intrigued by his experience, while the rest of me wasn't even slightly interested in whatever he had accomplished.

Grease, sweat, mint, and spice were scents I had picked up on Elias many times. Rugged and rough like a biker, yet safe because he was a pack member. I mean, I didn't think bikers were bad or anything like that. I just had my limits as far as shifters went. Elias was a Bravecrest, which put him on the safer side of the bad-boy spectrum. Unlike our wolfy neighbors, the Warner Wretcheds, who seemed to often travel up the coast without many safety precautions, if they had them at all.

I guess it was best Elias wasn't one of them. He would be acting much more poorly, and he would probably smell like grass-and not the freshly-cut-lawn kind either. One more sigh settled me into the rocking chair where Dante snuggled into my arms and closed his eyes. The tiny tiger shifter was going to get feisty someday soon. I just hoped it would be after his parents picked him up today.

While the kids read their books, I silently observed them, making mental notes that made it feel like I was progressing away from thinking about Elias. In reality, my eyes kept drifting back to Archie, acutely focused on whatever he was reading, his social cues, his fidgeting, and his trouble with attention. The poor kid was probably used to his dad chaotically tossing him around in the field or bossing him around the garage.

I couldn't even imagine how his schedule looked outside of this classroom.

I leaned forward, causing baby Dante to stir slightly. Archie perked up and then lowered his head, trying to hide behind a book. I reached for him with a gentle hand. "It's alright. I understand it's hard to adjust to a new schedule." He set the book aside. "Sorry, Miss Elwyn."

"You have nothing to be sorry about. How about you help me with the younger kids today and we'll try reading again tomorrow?"

A soft smile appeared. Within minutes, he was bouncing between groups to help the small kids while I put the baby in his temporary playpen. Archie did well with other kids, shockingly enough. His dad didn't give him enough credit.

And at least he wasn't rigid like his dad. That was one blessing to count for the day. I just had to hope that there would be plenty more blessings to come later.

No matter how poor of a parent Elias was.

***

It was Isaiah who picked up Archie when school concluded. My surprise must have registered on my face, for the energetic uncle patted my shoulder while hoisting his nephew into the air. The tank seemed intent on carrying Archie despite the child's size and verbal protests mixed with chuckles. "Sorry about my buddy," Isaiah said. "He just really likes you."

The strangeness of that statement followed me all the way home. I took the long way to the apartment house in the middle of the neighborhood, sidling through Mrs. Fester's yard to admire her new gazebo and then skipping back behind the houses to the little lane that separated each yard.

Purple flowers greeted me upon my arrival at the rear door. The house stood ominously above, its pointed roof poking the cloudy gray sky, speckled silver by the rays of the setting sun. I unlocked the door, popped it with my shoulder to get it to budge, and then stumbled inside toward my apartment. Three foggy seconds later, I was seated at my reading nook that overlooked the glorious backyard.

Overgrown and cluttered was more like it. But that was glorious to me. Every so often, one of Blake's workers came by to trim the grass that grew at an accelerated rate, patches of tall stalks growing up the fence and the path getting swallowed up by wildflowers. Laurencia claimed it was because she attracted magic. At this point, I had no choice but to believe her. The efforts of the workers diligently working on the yard proved that the grass was unruly, and the plants wished for nothing but enough space to grow. Like me, I supposed. Much like me.

After turning on the hot kettle that was ready to brew my tea for the afternoon, I stared at the books piled on my desk, tapping their spines lightly with disinterest. Specks of dust floated through the air and drifted in dazzling swirls around my extended fingers. The fact that Elias hadn't picked up his kid bothered me. And I just couldn't figure out why in the entire world that would ever bother me. Other shifter parents rotated pickups and drop-offs so many times that it was just a normal part of the routine. Why would Elias be any different? Why did I expect him to show up more than the others?

Maybe the voice of my mother in my head needed to chide me for being too hard on him. You're biased, she would probably claim. You hold him to a higher standard because you like him.

The kettle whistled. I turned it off and served myself chai tea, inhaling the delicious aroma of it while trying to push Elias out of my mind. But the spicy fragrance of the tea worsened my thoughts. Because it smelled so much like him.

I closed my eyes.

Just one more breath...

I didn't like Elias Shaw. Nothing about him was appealing. It didn't matter how many times he perched too uncomfortably close so the space between us zapped me in places I didn't usually pay much attention to. If it weren't for the fact that I hadn't seen much action in my life, then I wouldn't be having this reaction to a man who was probably worse for me than caffeine.

He just really likes you.

That was a funny way of showing somebody affection. Men who picked on women as a form of flirtation were the lowest of the low. Why would I ever grant someone like that my precious time and labor? I gave enough of it in the classroom.

As my attention tangled with my surroundings-with my lavishly decorated apartment made of pastel cloth, furniture, and décor-I considered where I had come from. Humble origins. Parents who balanced their expectations. A mother who inspired me to be my best at every waking moment even if it cost me my sanity.

I had to guess that doing my best with Elias would mean sacrificing certain opinions I had of his parenting skills. Giving him a break was easy. Resisting his prodding was harder than trying to stay awake when I was dead tired. I couldn't give in, though, no matter how much it would satisfy me to win another argument with him.

I had to set an example if he wouldn't do the same for his child. Archie was a bright kid who did need a lot of exercise. Just watching him run around today gave me a residual headache. And it wasn't annoying or anything like that. It was just a lot.

And since he didn't have a mother around, or auntie, or grandmother, or some kind of woman in his life, I had to be a better example than most. There was a lot of pressure on my shoulders. I had to step up to the plate. Being a teacher sometimes meant teaching things that didn't get taught at home.

I knew that when I'd started studying for this career. I knew that when I'd accepted the terms. Mixed-age classrooms were fantastic, and one of the more challenging types of teaching, and I wanted to make sure the style was retained. That meant more pressure on my shoulders to perform well.

I sipped my tea. Spices crowded my mouth and made me moan softly in a way that I hadn't heard since I made out with Roy at the drive-in back during my college years. Just that reaction alone prompted me to set my cup down. Nobody in this lifetime could have recreated such a scene-especially not a man like Elias Shaw.

While scrubbing my forehead, I went to the kitchen and started digging through the dinners I had prepped in the fridge. Shrimp scampi, broccoli and bacon sweet potato, baked rigatoni, and sausage with green peppers were among my available choices-and I wanted none of them. Because they wouldn't taste anywhere close to anything that I actually wanted right now.

Absurd to think that a man like Elias could satisfy any facet of my taste buds, let alone the most important ones.

I huffed while shutting the fridge door. "That's ridiculous. It doesn't make sense."

But when did attraction make sense? I had it bad-and I had been trying to deny it all day long. Whatever Elias had done to solicit my attention wouldn't go without retaliation. Whether it was the mint and spice of his scent, or his longing glances disguised as angry glares, I could certainly slip something useful up my sleeves. I had to do something, or I would lose my mind.

Without a morsel in my stomach, I marched to the bathroom and started running hot water into the tub. I couldn't let a guy like Elias win. I couldn't get distracted. I rummaged through the bathroom drawer for something that would never resemble a guy like Elias or his scent. Something reliable. Something waterproof and battery-operated.

Something that would make me forget about my inexperience-and my desire to have a new experience with someone unreasonably irritating.