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LIZZY
“Come on, Ev.”I hauled my chunky two-year-old out of his carseat, setting him on my hip as I reached over and grabbed the massive bag of food from the bare seat beside Evan’s.
He babbled at me, pointing frantically at the hammock hanging from the porch of the townhouse in front of us.
“Yeah, that’s just like Sabby’s hammock,” I agreed. “Do you think whoever lives here likes to snuggle and swing like you do?”
He ignored me, of course. That was his favorite pastime, other than demanding snacks. He was a needy little monster, but those big blue eyes and that wild white-blond hair were so cute it didn’t even matter.
Usually.
It did wear me out, though.
But I had to work through the exhaustion; I needed another hundred bucks to buy another week’s worth of the fruit and veggie pouches Ev liked from the grocery store, and those damned expensive pediatric chocolate “shakes” packed full of protein and other shit that the werewolf pediatrician assured me were absolutely necessary to fuel a tiny monster.
The way Evan chugged them, I wondered if they had some kind of drugs in them.
“Just a couple more orders,” I murmured to Ev, leaning my cheek against the side of his head as I walked up the stairs. He pushed me away and pinched my cheek, making me bite back a curse, and then did a little shriek and tried to lunge out of my arms when he saw the doorbell.
That was his favorite part of our food-delivery side-gig: doorbells.
I didn’t know why I’d even bothered buying him any toys. I should’ve just bought a damn doorbell from Home Depot and handed it to him.
His chubby little fingers struggled for a minute before stabbing the doorbell. I spun him away from the thing after he pressed it, barely managing in time to stop him from hitting it all dozen of the times he wanted.
He yelled at me, grabbing and pinching a handful of my cheek again as I set the food down on the doormat.
Swearing on the inside, I wrenched those deceptively strong fingers off my face. “Pinching is mean, Ev. We don’t pinch.”
Knowing he wouldn’t listen, I quickly lifted the corner of the doormat to check for the cash tip that was supposed to be beneath it.
Nothing.
My heart sank.
Dammit.
I checked the other three corners, and then lifted the whole mat just to make sure there wasn’t money hidden somewhere beneath it.
No cash.
I refused to let the tears that wanted to spring in my eyes make their way out.
Just another couple of deliveries, and I’d be fine. The sad state of my bank account didn’t attest to that, but I’d always managed to make the money. And if I didn’t, Sabby would cover me. I was too independent to let her, but she was loaded, and constantly tried to convince me to let her pay my part of our rent, or my grocery bill, or anything else she could come up with.
But that wasn’t the example I wanted to set for the baby on my hip. Hard work mattered, and I’d prove that to him even if I had to work myself into the damned ground to do so.
“Back to the car,” I told Evan, trying to put on a cheerful face as I pulled my phone from my pocket to mark the order as complete
The door flung open before I made it off the porch, and I turned back around.
Evan ripped my phone from my hand, chucking it with an excited yell.
Shit.
Before I could turn to see the damage, my eyes landed on the guy in the doorway, digging through his wallet. My wolf pressed forward, making my spine twitch and my breath catch.
Shit, he was gorgeous.
