Page 28 of Nanny for the Bikers

She notices my wandering eyes and tugs self-consciously at her shirt, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. “My phone is inside, and the window was slightly open,” she explains hastily. “I thought maybe I could slip inside. I didn’t mean to cause such a commotion.”

I drag my focus back to her face, trying to ignore the way my pulse has quickened. “Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance,” I quip dryly.

The dog takes a menacing step forward, hackles raised, and I instinctively take a step back. The girl reaches out to place a calming hand on the shepherd’s head. “Easy, boy,” she murmurs soothingly. “It’s okay.”

To my surprise, the dog’s growls subside into a low grumble, though he remains alert and watchful.

I assess the situation, weighing my options. I could call the cops, and have her hauled away for attempted break-in. But something about her story rings true, and besides, I’m too damn tried to deal with the hassle of police reports and questioning.

“Alright, look,” I sigh, running a hand through my hair. “It’s late, and I’m exhausted and kind of believe you. We can figure it out in the morning.”

Relief washes over her features, and she nods eagerly. “Yes, thank you. I appreciate it.”

I can’t help but steal another glance at her over my shoulder before I round the corner and get in through the front door.

She’s prettier when I can see more of her face, see the way the moonlight plays over her delicate features, the tousled curlsframing her face. Damn. Nanny or not, this girl is going to be trouble. I can feel it in my bones.

I move over to the window, messing with it until I finally force it open.

I gesture for Ayla to enter through the now open window. She hoists herself up, that tantalizing strip of skin at her waist catching my eye once again as her shirt rides up. I force myself to look away, reminding myself that ogling the potential nanny is definitely not appropriate.

Ayla swings her leg over the windowsill, attempting to gracefully slide into the room. Instead, her foot catches and she tumbles forward with a surprised yelp. Acting on instinct, I lunge to catch her, my arms encircling her waist as she falls against my chest.

For a moment, we freeze, our faces mere inches apart. This close, I can see the delicate scatter of freckles across her nose, the flecks of gold in her green eyes. Heat floods through me and I suddenly become acutely aware of every place our bodies are touching.

Ayla is the first to break the spell. She clears her throat, her cheeks flushing an enticing shade of pink. “Um, thanks,” she mumbles, extracting herself from my arms. “Guess I’m not as smooth as I thought.”

“I don’t know,” I drawl, unable to resist a little flirtatious teasing. “Felt pretty smooth from where I was standing.”

Piper’s cries echo down the hallway as we approach the living room. “Sounds like someone’s hungry,” Ayla remarks, a soft smile on her face. “Mind if I...?” She gestures towards the door.

I nod, pushing it open for her. “Be my guest.”

As Ayla enters the room, cooing gently to Piper, I lean against the wall and watch, transfixed. There’s something so natural about the way she scoops the baby into her arms, her touch tender yet confident. Piper’s wails quiet almost instantly.

“There now, sweet girl,” Ayla murmurs, swaying gently from side to side. “I’ve got you. Let’s get you a bottle, hmm?”

She glances up then, catching me staring, and I quickly avert my gaze, rubbing the back of my neck. What is wrong with me? I don’t usually get flabbergasted by a woman. I clear my throat.

I look around the room and see all of the new stuff for Piper lying around…I know for a fact that Clay and Kip didn’t get all of this stuff on their own. They live like college frat boys.

I turn my gaze back to Ayla and watch as she handles Piper expertly.

“You’re really good with her,” I murmur, my voice barely above a whisper.

“That’s why I was hired.” She smiles. “But go wake up Clay if you don’t believe me.”

“That’s not necessary,” I comment. “I believe you. Piper is in good hands. I’m going to bed. Welcome to our little chaotic household.”

15

AYLA

Iblink my eyes open, the dim light of the living room gradually coming into focus. My neck aches and there’s a dull pounding behind my temples. Fragments of memories slowly piece together - Piper’s hungry cries, the warmth of her tiny body against my chest as I fed her, the exhaustion pulling me under. I must have drifted off on the couch afterward.

Groaning softly, I push myself up to a sitting position and stretch my arms overhead, feeling the satisfying pop of my joints. I glance over at Piper’s crib, holding my breath. Relief washes over me as I see her little chest rising and falling in the steady rhythm of sleep. Her rosebud lips are parted slightly and one chubby fist rests against her cheek.

Careful not to make a sound, I rise from the couch, rolling my stiff shoulders. The clock on the wall tells me it’s just past 7 AM. I have a moment to myself before Piper wakes.

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