Page 49 of Nanny for the Bikers

“I think we’re doing a pretty damn good job,” I pipe in, downing another beer.

“You mean Ayla is,” Teller corrects.

“True,” Kip agrees. “She’s incredible.”

I nod, my throat suddenly tight. “She is. And I... I think I might be falling for her.” I don’t know what makes me reveal that — probably the alcohol.

The words hang in the air, heavy and charged, like the moment before a thunderstorm breaks. Kip and Teller exchange a glance, a silent communication passing between them.

“Clay...” Teller begins, but I shake my head, cutting him off.

“I like her too,” Kip admits. “And Teller may not admit it, but so does he.”

“You don’t speak for me,” Teller snaps quietly but doesn’t try to argue with the thought.

Great…so all three of us like the same girl.

Kip’s voice is low and serious when we speak again. “We need to be on the same page about this. If we’re all developing feelings for Ayla, we can’t let it come between us.”

“So we let her pick one of us?” I ask, my jaw clenching.

I don’t know how I’d feel if she didn’t pick me.

Teller leans forward, his elbows resting on the table. “But what if she feels the same way about one of us? Or all of us?” He pauses, his brow furrowing. “Is that even possible?”

“If she has feelings for one of us then the other two will back off.” I take another swig of my beer and sit back further in my seat. “But if she feels the same way about all of us then we share her,” I suggest. “It wouldn’t be the first time.”

“Share her?” Teller repeats. “In a relationship? More than just sex? I don’t know.”

Kip slams his bottle on the table. “Heck, I’m in, better than us fighting over her.”

I agree with that. Teller seems to think about it. “Yeah. We’ll share her.”

26

AYLA

The front door slams open, reverberating through the house. I close the book I’d been reading and stand up. Raucous laughter and unsteady footsteps follow as Kip, Teller, and Clay stumble inside.

“Ayla!” Kip calls out, his voice jovial and slightly slurred. “We’re home!”

Clay and Teller echo his greeting, their voices overlapping in a happy, drunken chorus. I can’t help but smile, shaking my head at their antics. They’re drunk. The sight of them, disheveled and grinning, sends a flutter through my chest.

“Shh, keep it down,” I chide gently, amusement lacing my tone. “I just got Piper to sleep. You’ll wake her.”

Kip’s blue eyes sparkle as he looks at me, a lopsided grin on his face. “Sorry, gorgeous. We’ll be quiet. Promise.”

Teller nods, his dark hair falling into his eyes. He sways slightly, steadying himself against the wall. “How was your night?” His words are careful, measured, even in his inebriated state.

I lean against the doorframe, crossing my arms. “Uneventful. Just the usual bedtime battles with the baby.” My gaze flicks between them. “Looks like you three had quite the evening though.”

Clay chuckles, running a hand through his short hair. “You could say that. The bar was packed. Kip here decided to challenge some frat boys to a drinking contest.”

“And I won!” Kip declares proudly, puffing out his chest. “Those lightweights didn’t stand a chance.”

I roll my eyes, but a smile tugs at my lips. “Well, I’m glad you had fun,” I say, pushing off the doorframe.

Clay grimaces, pressing a hand to his stomach. “I don’t feel so good,” he mutters, his words slightly slurred. He leans heavily against the wall, his face pale in the dim light.

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