11. Ayla

11

AYLA

I scratch behind Shadow’s ears as he sits patiently in the passenger seat of Kip’s truck. “Be a good boy and wait here for us, okay?” I say softly. Shadow’s tail thumps against the leather seat in response.

I turn to Kip, who is waiting by the open driver’s side door. “It’s awesome that you can leave the AC running even without the key in the ignition,” I remark, impressed.

“You know, Ayla, you could get a truck with that same feature,” Kip remarks as we step into the welcome coolness of the store’s AC. “Might be time for an upgrade.”

I shake my head, a wistful smile tugging at my lips. “Even if I had the money, which I don’t, I couldn’t bear to part with my old girl. My dad gave her to me before he...” My voice catches, the words sticking in my throat like peanut butter.

Clay’s brow furrows with concern. “Your dad?” he prompts gently, his deep voice laced with genuine interest.

I swallow hard, blinking back the sudden sting of tears. Not here, not now. “Yeah, he...he passed away a while back.” The admission hangs heavy in the air between us.

Clay’s hand finds my shoulder, a comforting weight. “I’m so sorry, Ayla. Were you close with your family?”

The question, though well-meaning, feels like a punch to the gut. Images of my stepfather’s sneering face, my mother’s tear-stained cheeks, flash unbidden through my mind. I shrug off Clay’s hand, plastering on a brittle smile.

“Hey, I could really use a latte right about now. You guys want anything? My treat!” I force a note of cheery enthusiasm into my voice, praying they’ll take the bait.

Kip and Clay exchange a look, a silent conversation passing between them. After a beat, Kip nods. “Sure, I could go for a drink.”

Relief washes over me as we make our way toward the in-store Starbucks. The rich aroma of coffee grounds and steamed milk envelops us, chasing away the lingering ghosts of my past. I study the menu board intently, as if the secrets of the universe are hidden among the beverage descriptions.

“What do you recommend?” Clay asks, sidling up beside me.

I tap my chin thoughtfully. “Hmm, caramel macchiato is a personal favorite. Not too sweet, just the right amount of indulgence.”

Clay chuckles. “Sold. I’ll have one of those.”

Kip, however, wrinkles his nose. “I think I’ll stick with water. Someone’s gotta keep a clear head while you two get all hopped up on sugar and caffeine.”

I elbow him playfully. “Spoilsport. Live a little!”

But Kip just grins, holding up his hands in mock surrender. “Hey, one of us has to be the responsible adult here.”

As we wait for our drinks, I let the banter wash over me, grateful for the momentary distraction. But even as I laugh and joke with Kip and Clay, I can feel the weight of my past lurking just beneath the surface, waiting to drag me back down into its murky depths.

With our drinks in hand, I lead the way into the labyrinth of aisles, determined to focus on the task at hand. The soft squeak of cartwheels against polished floors and the distant chatter of other shoppers create a soothing backdrop as we navigate the store.

“Ooh, look at this!” I exclaim, running my fingers along the smooth wood of a sleek, modern crib. “It’s perfect, don’t you think?”

Clay leans in, inspecting the crib with a critical eye. “It’s nice, but is it sturdy enough? We don’t want Piper rolling out in the middle of the night.”

I suppress a smile at his protective instincts. “Trust me, this one’s built to last. And look, it even converts into a toddler bed when she’s older.”

Kip wanders over, sipping his water. “I like it. Looks like it would match the rest of the nursery furniture we picked out.”

We move on, perusing the selection of wall art and decor. I hold up a whimsical painting of a unicorn prancing through a field of wildflowers. “What about this? It’s adorable!”

Clay raises an eyebrow. “A unicorn? Really?”

I stick my tongue out at him. “Hey, every little girl needs a bit of magic in her life.”

Kip chuckles, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Ayla. Might be a bit too cutesy. What about something more classic, like this?” He points to a tasteful print of a baby elephant holding a balloon with its trunk.

I tilt my head, considering. “Hmm, I could see that working. It’s sweet without being over-the-top.”

We move on to the rug section, debating the merits of plush versus patterned, neutral tones versus pops of color. I find myself drawn to a soft, creamy rug with a subtle star pattern woven throughout.

“This one,” I declare, running my hand over the velvety pile. “It’s cozy enough for tummy time..”

Kip nods approvingly. “Good choice. It’ll tie the room together nicely.”

As we place the rug in our cart. We continue through the store, my eyes landing on a display of baby monitors. I grab one off the shelf, turning it over in my hands as I examine the features.

“We should definitely get one of these,” I say, holding it up for Kip to see. “That way, we can hear Piper even when we’re not in the same room.”

Kip furrows his brow, looking skeptical. “I don’t know, do we really need one? I mean, the townhouse isn’t that big.”

I shake my head, feeling a surge of protectiveness for Piper. “Trust me, it’ll make a huge difference. We’ll be able to respond to her needs faster, and it’ll give us peace of mind knowing we can always hear her.”

Kip still looks unconvinced, but I press on, determined to make him see the importance of this small device. “Look, I know it might seem like overkill, but when it comes to taking care of a baby, every little bit helps. This monitor will allow us to be there for Piper efficiently, without constantly hovering over her.”

Finally, Kip relents, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Alright, alright, you’ve made your point. Toss it in the cart.”

I grin triumphantly, feeling a rush of satisfaction as I place the monitor among our growing pile of purchases.

As I glance around, I realize that Clay has wandered off to the next aisle, presumably to look for more baby items. I find myself alone with Kip, surrounded by a sea of nursery decorations.

My fingers trace over a delicate mobile, the soft tinkling of the chimes filling the air between us.

“You’re really good at this, you know,” Kip says softly, his voice cutting through my reverie. “Piper’s lucky you accepted the job.”

I feel a blush creeping up my cheeks at the unexpected compliment, my heart fluttering in my chest. “I just want to do right by her,” I murmur, suddenly feeling exposed under Kip’s gentle gaze.

He nods, a look of understanding passing between us. “We all do.”

I reach for a decorative wall hanging on a higher shelf, my fingertips barely grazing the edge. As I stretch up on my tiptoes, I feel Kip’s presence behind me, his body heat radiating against my back.

“Here, let me,” he murmurs, his breath tickling the side of my neck as he reaches over me to grab the item.

For a moment, time seems to stand still. Kip’s chest brushes against my shoulder blades, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through my veins. I inhale sharply, my senses overwhelmed by his proximity, the subtle scent of his cologne filling my nostrils.

My heart pounds in my heart pounds in my chest as Kip’s fingers graze mine, the decorative hanging now securely in his grasp. The air between us feels charged, like a live wire waiting to ignite. I swallow hard, my mouth suddenly dry as I turn to face him, our bodies mere inches apart.

Kip’s eyes lock with mine, a mixture of surprise and something deeper, more primal, swirling in their depths. His gaze drops to my lips for the briefest of moments, and I find myself leaning forward, drawn to him.

But before our lips can meet, the sound of footsteps approaching jolts us back to reality. We spring apart just as Clay rounds the corner, his arms laden with baby blankets.

“Hey, what do you think of these?” he asks, oblivious to the charged moment he’s just interrupted.

I clear my throat, hoping my voice won’t betray the desire still coursing through my veins. “They’re perfect,” I manage, my eyes darting to Kip, who looks equally flustered.

As Clay launches into a discussion about the blankets, I try to focus on his words, but my mind keeps drifting back to the feeling of Kip’s body against mine, the way his eyes had darkened with a hunger that matched my own.

I shake my head, trying to dispel the thoughts.

We’re here for Piper.

Besides, the last thing I need is a boyfriend. Especially with one of my new, very attractive, bosses when I just started today.

But even as I force a smile and nod along to Clay’s words, I can’t ignore the way my skin still tingles where Kip touched me, the way my heart races at the memory of his nearness.

And how he’s not the only one my body seems to be affected by.

“You know,” I say, glancing at Clay and Kip with a mischievous grin, “you guys should really consider replacing all the carpets in your place with hardwood floors. It’d make cleaning up after Piper so much easier.”

Clay chuckles, shaking his head. “I don’t know, Ayla. I kind of like the carpet. It’s cozy.”

I raise an eyebrow, placing a hand on my hip. “Sure. I doubt your landlord would appreciate you making changes without permission anyways.”

“We don’t have landlords,” Clay corrects me. “We own it.”

“You…own it?” I don’t know much about home ownership…it’s not like my mom could ever own a house. But, I guess it makes sense, considering how much they’re paying me weekly. They clearly have the money.

“Yeah,” Clay nods. “It was built for us.”

“Built for you?” I frown, understanding failing me.

Clay’s smile falters for a moment, and he exchanges a quick glance with Kip. There’s something in their eyes, a flicker of... what? Uncertainty? Hesitation? But before I can dwell on it, Clay clears his throat.

“Well, actually...” he begins, but Kip cuts him off with a sharp elbow to the ribs.

“Nothing,” Kip says smoothly, his tone leaving no room for further discussion.

I narrow my eyes, curiosity piqued by their odd behavior. What was Clay about to say? And why did Kip stop him?

But as I open my mouth to press the issue, Clay quickly changes the subject, holding up a set of colorful wall decals. “What about these? They’d really brighten up the nursery.”

I hesitate, torn between my desire to know more and the realization that now might not be the time to push. We all have our secrets, our histories we’d rather keep hidden.

They’ll tell me when they’re ready.

I force a smile as I take the decals from Clay. “These are perfect,” I agree.

We go to the checkout line, and Kip begins unloading the cart onto the conveyor belt, his strong hands deftly handling the delicate baby items. “Don’t worry about this, Ayla,” he says, flashing me a warm smile. “Piper’s our responsibility. You shouldn’t have to spend your first paycheck on nursery supplies.”

I feel a flicker of indignation at his words, my independent streak rearing its head. “Kip, I appreciate the thought, but I want to contribute,” I insist, reaching for my wallet. “This won’t be the last time I help with expenses for Piper.”

Kip’s brow furrows, a hint of concern in his eyes. “Ayla, you don’t have to-“

“I know I don’t have to,” I interrupt, my voice firm but gentle. “But I want to. Piper’s a part of my life now, too. And I intend to be there for her in every way possible.”

For a moment, Kip looks like he might argue, but then his expression softens, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. “Okay,” he agrees, his voice low and warm. “If that’s what you want.”

As I hand my card to the cashier, a sense of fulfillment washes over me.

The cashier hands me the receipt, and I tuck it carefully into my wallet, a small smile playing at the corners of my lips.

As we make our way back to the truck, the weight of the bags in my hands feels like an anchor, and the sun beats down on my shoulders, but I barely feel the heat.

I’ve never spent so much money in one go, but it was worth every penny.

I glance over at Kip, noticing the way his muscles flex as he hefts the heavier bags into the trunk. There’s a quiet strength to him, a steadiness that I find myself drawn to.

As if sensing my gaze, Kip looks up, his eyes meeting mine before a sly smirk finds his lips. I look away quickly, my breath hitching as I try to remind myself to keep it together. This is my chance to start fresh. I don’t want to mess it up. I need to focus on what’s important, this job, Piper, and my newfound freedom this job will allow me.