Once he had her situated, he turned toward me. “As much as I’d like to have you on the back of my bike, it’s not safe for Isa.”
“Oh.” With the motorcycles parked in the lot—not to mention his Hounds of Hellfire MC vest and the fact that he worked at Inferno Cycles and Customs—I should’ve realized he’d ridden one to the orchard.
He tilted his head toward the row of gleaming bikes. “Follow me.”
I mentally kicked myself for circling my car and climbing behind the wheel after he shut the passenger door, without even asking where we were going. But it wasn’t like I had much choice since I had Isa and her stuff, which he couldn’t have taken even if I wanted him to.
As I trailed his Harley through the winding roads outside Riverstone, farm land gave way to quiet neighborhoods with large plots of land. About five minutes past the repair shop I’d stopped by earlier, he pulled into a long driveway leading to a house with a wide front porch and lots of mature trees past the backyard. Nothing like I expected for a bachelor biker.
His house was a far cry from the tiny studio where Isa had spent her first month with Rea. And it was much nicer than the apartment I called home. From the outside, it looked like everything I wanted for the kids on my roster. Everything I wanted for my own children. Which made me want to cry for some reason I couldn’t explain.
He was off the motorcycle and at Isa’s door by the time I got out of the car, the garage door already halfway up. “Nice place you got here.”
“Thanks.” He bent down to pull the baby carrier out of the base. “Got plenty of space for Isa.”
“How many bedrooms?” I asked, grabbing the diaper bag from the back seat to carry it inside.
“Five.” At my surprised look, he shrugged. “Real estate is always a good investment, and I hate moving. Figured I’d go big from the start and grow into it when the time came. Just didn’t expect it to be today.”
“Surprise.”
He chuckled at my wry humor, which only made him more attractive.
“Here.” He handed me the carrier. “Take her inside and relax. I’ll get the rest of the stuff.”
Staring down at the angelic face I’d grown to love, I whispered, “I packed all of her favorite things. They’re in the trunk, along with diapers, formula, bottles, and a box of rice cereal. I just started her on it last week because she was showing signs of early readiness.”
“Got it.”
I went inside, pausing in the living room when I saw a giant box with a picture of a crib on the side. It surprised me more than anything else that had happened today, which was saying a lot considering how shocked I was by my reaction to Griffin.
He’d only known about Isa for about an hour and had somehow already gotten furniture delivered for her. In my two years at CPS, I’d never seen a parent move that fast. It was confusing since Griffin insisted his identical twin must be her biological father.
Trying to ignore how I was softening toward him, I took in my surroundings. His home was clean but lived-in, and it fit what I knew of him so far: the dark leather furniture, the big television mounted on the wall, and the motorcycle magazines on the coffee table.
When Griffin came inside the second time, he was carrying my overnight bag too. I still wasn’t sure about staying with him, but I could easily grab my stuff when—if—I left.
On his third trip, he jerked his chin toward the hallway. “This way.”
He led me to a room right next to the primary. It was spacious enough for a nursery, with more boxes of supplies on the floor. My breath caught as I pictured it all set up for Isa. Except I wouldn’t be the one changing her diaper or feeding her a bottle in here.
“I’m not sure how to set this room up for her,” Griffin admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Figure you’d know better than me.”
“I can help,” I offered without thinking twice. “I have to admit that I’m impressed you got the bed cleared out and so much stuff for Isa dropped off in such a short amount of time.”
“King has a boy and another baby on the way,” he explained. “He’s our prez, so when he told a couple of prospects everything I’d need, they busted ass to take care of it.”
“No matter how it got done, it’s pretty amazing.”
He only tipped his chin up to acknowledge my compliment before he got to work on unpacking Isa’s clothes into the dresser. Since she was happily playing with the toys hooked to the handle, I set her carrier on the floor in the corner of the room and helped put her things away, finding the perfect spot for her favorite tummy time mat while he hauled in a leather recliner from another room.
Once the basics were sorted and I showed him where the crib should go, Isa gave a hungry cry. “Hold her while I make a bottle?”
“Sure.”
He took her from me with an ease that surprised me. When I returned, he was holding her in one strong arm while reading through the crib-building directions in his other hand.
“I’ll take her.”
