Page 85 of Nanny for the Bikers

She nods, drawing in a shuddering breath as the contraction eases. “I’m glad you’re here,” she whispers, her voice raw with emotion. “I was surrounded by men…having another girl is a breath of relief.”

My heart swells with love for this woman, this friend who’s become more like a sister to me. “I’m not going anywhere,” I assure her, pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

The doctor enters the room, his presence commanding attention. He moves swiftly to Jamie’s side, checking her progress with practiced efficiency. “She’s nine centimeters dilated,” he announces, his voice steady and calm. “It won’t be long now.”

Those words hit me like a freight train, the gravity of the situation sinking in with startling clarity. My heart races, a mix of anticipation and fear coursing through my veins. This is really happening. Jamie’s about to become a mother, and I’m here to witness it.

I grip Jamie’s hand tighter, trying to anchor myself in the moment. She squeezes back, her face contorted in pain as another contraction hits. “Breathe,” I remind her.

The doctor turns to the group, his expression serious. “I need the room cleared for delivery,” he instructs, his tone leaving no room for argument.

My heart sinks at the thought of leaving Jamie alone, of not being there to support her. I start to rise from my chair, reluctance weighing heavy in my limbs.

But then Jamie surprises me, her hand shooting out to grab my wrist. “Stay,” she pleads, her eyes wide and desperate. “Please, Ayla. I need you.”

“But you can only have one person…”

“And I want that person to be you. Stay.”

Her words are a shock to me…that she’d pick me when she hasn’t known me long. She’d meant it when she said we were family now.

Tears spring to my eyes, a lump forming in my throat. I never expected this, never thought Jamie would want me by her side during such an intimate, vulnerable time. But the look on her face tells me everything I need to know.

“Of course,” I whisper, sinking back into my seat. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The guys file out of the room, each one pausing to give Jamie a reassuring smile or a gentle touch. Teller’s the last to leave, his gaze locking with mine for a brief, charged moment. “Take care of our girl,” he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion.

I nod, my determination fierce and unwavering. “Always.”

As the door clicks shut behind him, I turn back to Jamie, my heart full to bursting.

Jamie’s grip on my hand tightens as another contraction hits, her face contorting with pain. I wince, feeling the strength of hergrasp, but I don’t let go. Instead, I lean in closer, my free hand stroking her hair.

“Breathe, Jamie,” I murmur, my voice low and soothing. “In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

She nods, her jaw clenched tight as she focuses on her breathing. I watch the rise and fall of her chest, silently willing her to find strength in the steady rhythm.

The doctor moves to the foot of the bed, his expression focused and calm. “Alright, Jamie,” he says, his voice cutting through the tension in the room. “On the next contraction, I need you to push.”

Jamie’s eyes widen, a flicker of fear dancing across her face. I squeeze her hand, drawing her attention back to me.

“You’ve got this,” I tell her, my voice fierce with conviction. “You’re the strongest person I know, Jamie. You can do this.”

She holds my gaze for a long moment, drawing strength from the unwavering belief in my eyes. Then, as the next contraction builds, she takes a deep breath and bears down, a low groan escaping her lips.

I watch in awe as she pushes, her face flushed with exertion and determination.

“That’s it, Jamie,” I encourage, my heart swelling with pride. “You’re doing amazing. Just keep pushing.”

She nods, her teeth gritted as she focuses all her energy on bringing her baby into the world. I can feel the tension in her body, the incredible strength coursing through her veins.

And then, with one final, herculean effort, it’s over. Jamie collapses back against the pillows, her chest heaving as the doctor lifts a tiny, squalling bundle into the air.

“It’s a boy!” he announces, his voice ringing with joy and triumph.

Tears spring to my eyes as I watch the doctor place the baby on Jamie’s chest, the tiny form still slick and wriggling. Jamie’s face transforms, the pain and exhaustion melting away as she gazes down at her son with pure, unadulterated love.

“He’s perfect,” she whispers, her voice choked with emotion. “Ayla, look at him. He’s absolutely perfect.”

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