Page 4 of Nanny for the Bikers

Kip’s eyes widen in alarm. He holds her outstretched in his arms. “Not me!” he declares. “I fed her!”

Teller shakes his head, a wry smile tugging at his lips. “Don’t look at me. I’ve never changed a diaper in my life.”

I roll my eyes, realizing that, once again, the responsibility falls on my shoulders. “Fine, I’ll do it. But you two owe me big time.”

I take the baby from Kip’s arms and put her down on the couch. I realize I have no idea where to begin. I’ve never changed a diaper either, but how hard can it be? I fumble with the tabs, my fingers feeling clumsy and oversized.

Kip leans over my shoulder, his face scrunched up in disgust as I pull the diaper down, and the stench of the contents of the diaper hits the air. “Dude, that’s nasty. How can something so small produce something so foul?”

“It’s a mystery of the universe,” Teller quips, keeping a safe distance from the action. He’s digging through the bag, looking for a diaper. “Guys, we have a problem. No diaper.”

Kip curses, and I’m left with a smelly baby, laughing at the chaos before her.

“What kind of mom packs a diaper bag and doesn’t includes ‘diapers’?” Clay frowns.

“The one who leaves her baby with strangers,” Telle answers sarcastically.

“She did say she was broke,” Clay comments.

I shoot them both a glare. “Instead of providing commentary, how about one of you goes and finds something we can use as a homemade diaper?”

Kip springs into action, rummaging through the kitchen drawers. “How about a dish towel? Or a paper towel?”

“Just bring me everything,” I say, holding out my hand.

As Kip hands me the supplies, I take a deep breath and steel myself for the task at hand. I gingerly remove the soiled diaper, trying not to gag at the sight and smell.

“This is so gross,” I mutter, using a wad of paper towels to clean up the mess that the diaper clearly didn’t hold. “Remind me again why we thought having a baby was a good idea?”

Teller chuckles. “Because we’re idiots who don’t know how to use protection, apparently.”

I shoot him a withering look, but I can’t help but laugh. The absurdity of the situation is starting to sink in, and I realize that if we don’t find the humor in it, we’ll go crazy.

With some trial and error, I manage to fashion a makeshift diaper out of the dish towel and secure it with some safety pins. It’s not pretty, but it’ll do for now.

I gaze down at her cherubic face, her wide blue eyes staring back at me with innocent curiosity. A wave of emotions crashes over me - fear, uncertainty, but there’s something else there too.

“Hey there, sweet girl,” I coo softly, brushing my finger against her velvety cheek. “I bet this is all new and scary for you.”

She gurgles contentedly, her tiny hand grasping my finger with surprising strength. In that moment, I feel a connection to her that I can’t quite explain - a bond that I’ve never felt before.

“You know, she needs a name,” Clay remarks, peering over my shoulder at the baby.

“We don’t even know if we’re keeping her,” Teller points out.

I ignore him, my mind already whirling with possibilities. And then, it hits me - the perfect name for our little unexpected addition.

“Piper,” I say decisively, testing the name on my tongue. “Her name is Piper.”

Kip raises an eyebrow. “Like the Pied Piper? Isn’t that a little on the nose?”

I shake my head, grinning. “No, like Piper Perabo. You know, the actress from Coyote Ugly?”

Teller snorts. “Only you would name a baby after a movie about bartenders.”

But I’m not listening anymore. All my attention is focused on Piper, who has drifted off to sleep in my arms, her rosebud lips parted in a tiny sigh.

“Welcome to the family, Piper,” I whisper, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead.

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