Page 13 of Nanny for the Bikers

A baby’s cry.

I scan the park, my eyes searching for the source of the distress. It doesn’t take long to spot it—a lone stroller, parked under a nearby tree, its occupant wailing with increasing urgency.

I frown, a knot of unease forming in my stomach. Where are the parents? Who would leave their child unattended like this?

Before I can second-guess myself, I’m on my feet, striding towards the stroller with purposeful steps. As I draw closer, the cries intensify, each wail a piercing arrow straight to my heart. I quicken my pace, my protective instincts surging to the forefront.

“Hey there, peach,” I coo softly as I reach the stroller, my voice instinctively shifting to a soothing timbre. “What’s got you so upset, huh?”

I peek into the stroller, my heart clenching at the sight of the tiny, scrunched-up face, red and blotchy from crying. The babycan’t be more than a few months old, swaddled in a soft yellow blanket that has come loose in their distress.

I glance around once more, hoping to spot a frazzled parent hurrying back to their child. But the area remains deserted, save for a few distant figures lost in their own worlds.

My hands twitch at my sides, itching to scoop up the wailing infant and offer comfort. It’s a desire I’ve always harbored, an innate need to nurture and protect. But the rational part of my brain holds me back, whispering cautions about overstepping boundaries and inviting trouble.

Still, I can’t just walk away. Not when every fiber of my being is screaming at me to do something, to help in any way I can.

Biting my lip, I reach out a tentative hand, gently rocking the stroller in hopes of calming the baby. “Shh, it’s okay,” I murmur, keeping my voice low and soothing. “You’re not alone. I’m here.”

The baby’s cries begin to subside, little hiccups and sniffles replacing the heart-wrenching wails. Relief floods through me, but it’s short-lived as I realize the child’s parents are still nowhere to be seen.

I can’t just leave the baby here, unattended and vulnerable. My mind races, weighing the potential consequences of my next actions. But the overwhelming need to ensure the child’s safety trumps any hesitation.

With a deep breath, I carefully lift the baby from the stroller, cradling the tiny form against my chest. The weight of the child in my arms feels natural, as if I was meant to hold and protect this little life.

“There we go,” I whisper, gently bouncing the baby. “You’re safe now. I’ve got you.”

As I lose myself in the moment, marveling at the baby’s delicate features and the way their tiny hand curls around my finger, I almost miss the sound of rapid footsteps approaching.

“Piper!” a deep, frantic voice calls out, startling me from my reverie.

I turn to see a man rushing towards us, his handsome face etched with worry and relief. His dark hair is disheveled, and his clothes are slightly rumpled, as if he’s been running. And his eyes…? They look tired.

“Oh my god, thank you,” he breathes, coming to a stop before me. “I’m so sorry. I just closed my eyes for a second, and the stroller must have rolled away.”

His words tumble out in a rush, his eyes darting between the baby in my arms and my face. I can see the genuine gratitude and contrition in his gaze, and my heart goes out to him.

“It’s okay,” I assure him, offering a small smile. “I understand. I’m just glad I was here to help.”

I carefully transfer the baby back into her father’s waiting arms. As he cradles her close, I introduce myself. “I’m Ayla, by the way.”

He looks up at me, his deep brown eyes capturing mine. “Clay,” he replies, a tired smile gracing his lips. “I can’t thank you enough, Ayla. I’ve been up all night with this little one, and I guess the exhaustion caught up with me.”

I nod in understanding, taking in the dark circles beneath his eyes and the weariness in his posture.

He adjusts Piper in his arms, his touch gentle and sure. “You know, you have a real gift with babies. Piper usually doesn’t calm down that quickly with strangers.”

I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks at his praise, a warmth spreading through my chest. “Oh, it’s nothing,” I demur, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “I’ve just always had a way with kids, I guess.”

Clay’s eyes linger on mine, a flicker of something deeper passing between us. The air seems to crackle with a sudden tension, an unspoken connection that catches me off guard.

I clear my throat, breaking the spell. “Well, I should probably get going. I’m glad I could help.”

As I turn to leave, Clay’s voice stops me. “Wait, Ayla.”

I glance back, my heart skipping a beat at the intensity in his gaze.

“I know this might sound crazy,” he begins, his words laced with nervous energy, “but would you consider being Piper’s nanny?”

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