Page 25 of Nanny for the Bikers

Icradle Piper close to my chest as I step through the front door, her small form nestled snugly in my arms. I can’t help but smile as I gaze down at her peaceful face, tiny eyelashes fluttering as she drifts off to sleep.

Behind me, Clay and Kip shuffle in, arms laden with packages and bags upon bags of nursery items. The sight of these strong, capable men juggling nursery supplies elicits a soft chuckle from my lips.

As I stand there, a warmth blooms in my chest. It’s a feeling I’ve rarely experienced - the sense of belonging, of being part of something special. For a moment, I allow myself to bask in it, to imagine what it might be like to have a family of my own someday.

But as quickly as the thought arrives, I push it aside. I’m here for Piper, to give her the care and attention she deserves. And if I’m being honest with myself, I need this too - the chance to find purpose, to discover who I am beyond the shadows of my past.

I stride into the office, and my eyes sweep over the space, taking in the sleek desk, the minimalist decor, the shelves lined with books and framed photographs. It’s a room that exudes professionalism, but as I envision Piper growing up here, I know it needs a touch of warmth, a splash of color, a sense of whimsy.

Clay follows close behind, his presence steady and reassuring. “So, what’s your vision for the nursery?” he asks, his voice genuine with interest. “We want you to have free rein here, Ayla. This is your domain now.”

I pause, considering the possibilities. In my mind’s eye, I see soft hues of lavender or yellow, a plush rug underfoot, a cozy rocking chair by the window. I picture whimsical wall decals, a mobile of stars and moons, a bookshelf overflowing with tales of adventure and wonder.

But as I study the room more closely, my brow furrows. The carpet, while beautiful, seem too cold and unforgiving for a baby’s room. And the walls, a stark white, feel too sterile, too devoid of life.

“I definitely have some ideas,” I muse aloud, absently rocking Piper as she starts to doze in my arms. “But I think we’ll need to make some changes first. The floors, the walls... they don’t quite fit the vibe I’m going for.”

Clay nods, his expression thoughtful. “Whatever you need, we’ll make it happen. This is Piper’s space, and we want it to be perfect for her.”

“We could hire professionals to handle the renovations if needed,” I suggest, my mind already calculating the potential costs.

Kip, who has been quietly observing the room, suddenly perks up. “Actually, renovations are kind of my thing,” he says with a grin, his blue eyes sparkling with excitement. “It’s literally my job. I could handle the changes myself, with some help from Clay and Teller, of course.”

I turn to Kip, surprised by this revelation. “Really? I had no idea that was your profession.”

He shrugs, a hint of pride in his smile. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me yet, Ayla. But I’m happy to share more over a cup of coffee sometime.”

I feel a flutter in my stomach at his words, at the hint of something more behind his casual invitation. He offered me coffee and the best pie back at the gas station and now we’re here in his house as I hold Piper. So much as changed so quickly. But before I can respond, Clay clears his throat, drawing our attention back to the matter at hand.

“That’s a generous offer, Kip,” he says, his tone measured. “I think it’s a great idea for all of us to get to know each other better.”

“Wouldn’t be much of a date with you there.” Kip furrows his eyebrows at Clay.

“I think it would be a better date!”

I glance at Kip, trying to gauge his reaction, but he merely shrugs, a hint of a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth.

“Well, I should probably head to bed,” he says, stretching his arms above his head. “Got a big day of renovations ahead of me.”

As he turns to leave, he catches my eye, his gaze intense and full of unspoken promises.

With that, he’s gone, leaving me alone with Clay and a whirlwind of thoughts. I busy myself with Piper, adjusting her blanket and cooing softly, but I can feel Clay’s eyes on me.

“You know,” he says quietly, “Kip’s a great guy, but he’s not always the most... serious when it comes to relationships.”

I bristle at his words, a spark of defiance igniting within me. “And what about you, Clay? Are you always serious?”

He blinks, surprise flickering across his face before he composes himself. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt, that’s all.”

“I appreciate your concern,” I say, my voice calm and even, “but I can take care of myself. And right now, my priority is taking care of Piper.”

As if on cue, Piper lets out a soft whimper, her tiny face scrunching up in discomfort. I bounce her gently, murmuring soothing words as I head towards the kitchen to prepare a bottle.

Clay follows close behind, his presence both comforting and unsettling. The men in this house are confusing me and I don’t know how to find my footing. “I know you can take care of yourself, Ayla. I just... I care about you. About both of you.”

What does he mean by that? How much does he care about me when we just met? A thousand questions bounce around my head with no end in sight.

“Clay…?”

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