Page 32 of Nanny for the Bikers

Ayla nods, a soft smile playing on her lips. “She is. Before you know it, she’ll be rolling over and sitting up on her own.”

The thought is both exciting and terrifying. I’m not ready for her to grow up just yet.

As if on cue, a timer chimes from the kitchen. Ayla enters the living room, brushing her hands on her jeans. “That’s my cue. Tummy time’s over, and dinner’s ready.”

She scoops Piper up, cradling her against her chest. I follow them into the kitchen, the aroma of the meal growing stronger with each step. My stomach rumbles in appreciation.

“Smells incredible,” I say, moving to grab plates from the cupboard.

Ayla flashes me a grin over her shoulder as she settles Piper into her high chair. “Just wait until you taste it. It’s been a while since I’ve made it, but I figured tonight was a good night for comfort food.”

I nod in agreement, my gaze drifting to Piper, who’s happily gnawing on a teething toy. “Every night feels like a good night for comfort food these days.”

Ayla chuckles, a warm, rich sound that fills the kitchen. “I hear you. Parenting is no joke.”

She turns back to the stove, giving the pasta another stir before reaching for a colander. I watch as she drains the noodles, the steam rising in tendrils around her face. There’s a grace to her movements, a confidence that comes from years of practice.

“So your mom taught you how to cook?” I ask.

“She did.”

Not much of a talker about her family… I nod, realizing how little I actually know about Ayla’s family, about her life before she came to us. “You don’t talk about your family much.”

Ayla’s gaze flickers to mine, something guarded in her expression. I wonder if I overstepped. “There’s not much to tell, really. My childhood probably wasn’t near as exciting as yours, or Kip and Clay.”

I chuckle, the sound warm and genuine. “ Those two were always getting into trouble. Still are, if we’re being honest.”

Ayla leans forward, curiosity sparking in her green eyes. “How are you all related?”

I nod, setting down my fork. “We’re best friends, more like brothers really. We grew up together in Wolf Pike, causing chaos and driving our parents crazy.”

“I can only imagine,” Ayla says with a grin. “Three boys running wild in a small town? The stuff of legends.”

I laugh, the memories flooding back. “Oh, we were legends all right. There was this one time, when we were teenagers, thatwe decided to ‘borrow’ old man Jenkins’ tractor. Teller had this grand idea to take it for a joyride through the cornfields.”

Ayla’s eyes widen. “You didn’t.”

“We did. And let me tell you, it was a miracle we didn’t end up in the hospital. Or jail.” I shake my head, still amazed at our teenage audacity. “But that’s the thing about growing up in a place like Wolf Pike. Everyone knows everyone, and they’re all willing to forgive a little youthful stupidity.”

“It sounds like an incredible place to grow up,” Ayla says, something wistful in her tone.

“It was. It is.” I smile, the love for my hometown swelling in my chest. “There’s a sense of community there, of belonging, that you just don’t find in the big city. People look out for each other and take care of each other. It’s special.”

Ayla nods, her gaze distant, as if she’s imagining what it might be like to be a part of something like that. And in that moment, I want nothing more than to give her that sense of belonging, to make her feel like she’s a part of our family, our community.

Because she is. More than she knows.

The scent of garlic and herbs pulls me from my reverie, and I turn to see Ayla mixing the pasta with the shrimp and herbs. She looks at home here, in my kitchen, in a way that tugs at something deep in my chest.

“You’ve outdone yourself.”

Ayla shrugs, but I catch the hint of a pleased smile on her lips. “It’s nothing special.”

“Well, it’s special to me.” I reach around her to snag a shrimp from the pot, popping it into my mouth before she can protest. The flavor bursts on my tongue, rich and buttery with a kick of heat. “Damn, that’s good.”

Ayla swats at my hand, but she’s laughing. “Save some for dinner, will you?”

“No promises.” I grin, stealing another shrimp before ducking out of her reach. “Seriously though, you don’t have to do all this. The cleaning, the cooking... You’re already doing so much just by being here for Piper.”

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