Page 31 of Nanny for the Bikers

I blink, trying to clear the haze from my mind. The spot where his fingers touched my skin tingles, a reminder of the effect he has on me.

With that, he turns and walks away, leaving me standing in the doorway, my pulse pounding in my ears. I watch his retreating figure, my thoughts a jumbled mess.

What just happened? The intensity of our encounter, the way he pulled me close and whispered in my ear—it’s almost too much to process.

I close the door, leaning against it as I try to catch my breath. Teller’s words echo in my mind. Our little secret. The thought sends a thrill through me, even as a part of me knows it’s wrong.

But I can’t deny the way my body reacts to his touch, the way my heart races at the mere thought of him. As much as I try to fight it, I’m drawn to Teller in a way I can’t explain.

In the solitude of the guest room, I sink onto the bed, my mind reeling. The events of the past few minutes play in my head like a movie reel, each frame more vivid than the last.

I close my eyes, and I’m back in Teller’s arms, his lips on mine, his touch igniting a fire within me. It’s a feeling I’ve never experienced before, a hunger that consumes me.

I run my fingers through my hair, trying to make sense of it all. I know I should feel guilty, ashamed even though he’s my boss. Or at least one of my bosses for a job I love. But instead, there’s a part of me that craves more.

And not just with Teller…but with all my bosses.

17

CLAY

Istep through the front door, the weight of the day heavy on my shoulders. The click of the latch echoes in my ears as I toss my keys into the wooden bowl by the door.

The aroma of garlic and herbs dances through the air, making my stomach rumble. I pause, surprised. The scent of home cooking is not what I expected to come home to.

Intrigued, I shrug off my jacket and hang it on the coat rack, then loosen my tie as I stride down the short hall to the kitchen. I stop in the entryway, blinking in surprise.

Ayla stands at the stove, her long dark hair pulled back in a messy bun, a few loose tendrils framing her face. She stirs a steaming pot, humming softly to herself.

“Hey, you’re cooking.” The obvious statement falls from my lips before I can stop myself.

She glances over her shoulder, one hand resting on her hip. A playful smirk dances at the corners of her mouth. “Brilliant observation, Sherlock. What gave it away, the apron or the spatula in my hand?”

I chuckle and step further into the kitchen, peering into the pot. Shrimp, linguine, and vegetables swim in a creamy sauce. My mouth waters.

“Smells amazing. You didn’t have to do this, you know.” I meet her eyes, noticing flecks of gold amidst the green.

“I wanted to. Besides, it’s just pasta.” She shrugs, turning back to give the pot a stir. “It’s something my mom used to make. Figured I’d treat you guys to a home cooked meal for once. All of the ingredients were already here anyway.”

I lean against the counter, studying her profile. There’s still so much I don’t know about Ayla, about her past, her family. But I’m glad she’s here, glad Piper has her.

“Well, I appreciate it. We all do,” I say sincerely. And I mean it. Having Ayla here, caring for Piper, keeping the house running smoothly - it’s been a godsend. I don’t know what we’d do without her.

I peek into the living room and see Piper on the floor. Instantly, my heart leaps into my throat. I take the remaining steps two at a time, rushing into the living room.

“Is everything okay? Why is Piper on the floor?” The words tumble out, laced with urgency.

Ayla looks up at me, a hint of amusement playing on her lips. “Relax, Clay. She’s fine. It’s just tummy time.”

I blink, confusion momentarily overtaking concern. “Tummy time?”

“You know, when babies lay on their stomachs to strengthen their neck and arm muscles.” She quirks an eyebrow. “Might want to brush up on your baby care knowledge, Dad of the Year.”

Her gentle teasing eases the tightness in my chest. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. “Right. Tummy time. Got it. I’ll add it to my ever-growing list of what I’m supposed to do with a baby.”

I crouch down beside her, catching Piper’s eye. She gurgles happily, tiny fists pushing against the colorful play mat. Pride swells in my chest. She’s growing so fast, changing every day.

“She’s getting stronger,” I murmur, gently stroking Piper’s back.

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