Page 20 of Biker Under My Tree

I finished up the last details on the tray of Christmas tree cookies, piping on tiny details, when Bones spoke up again from across the room.

“Is there a reason why your living room looks like it’s decorated for the Fourth of July?” he asked and glanced over at the red, white, and blue decorations I hadn’t had a chance to take down yet.

I chuckled and wiped my hands on my apron. “That would be because I haven’t had a single free moment to do anything except bake since the Fourth of July. Normally, I’d have the house decked out for Christmas by now, but I just haven’t had the time. I did manage to bring up the decorations, though; they’re still sitting in boxes over there in the corner. I don’t think I’ll be making it out to the tree farm to get a tree this year, either.”

Bones nodded, and a small smile tugged at his lips. “Business must be booming for you.”

“It really has been,” I agreed. “Especially this past half of the year. Orders just keep rolling in.”

“Can’t complain about that,” he said with a grin and set another finished box aside.

I nodded just as a loud honk blared outside, breaking the morning’s peace. Bones didn’t even need to look to know who it was.

“Only Wick would honk his horn at this hour on a Saturday morning,” Bones chuckled. “He probably figures since he’s awake, everyone else should be too.”

A moment later, Wick, Nut, and Bonnie strolled in and looked half-awake.

“No Guns today?” Bones asked as he scanned the group.

Bonnie shook her head and took her coat off. “He had some stuff to take care of back at the clubhouse. He said he might swing by later with Mickey.”

Nut sidled over to the rack of finished cookies and peered at them with raised brows. “Well, I knew you were a fancy one,” he laughed and eyed my handiwork. “I watched a few YouTube videos about royal icing last night. I think I can manage the flooding part, but all this fancy shit? That’s on you.”

I grinned and shot Bones a look with a playful glint in my eye as if to say,See? Told you so. “That’s exactly what I was hoping you’d help with,” I replied to Nut, who looked both relieved and wary. I then turned to Bonnie. “And I was hoping you could get started on the other baked goods for the coffee shop orders.”

Bonnie didn’t hesitate and grabbed a clean apron from the hook by the door. “Just hand me the recipes and point me to the mixer,” she said as she tied the apron around her waist.

Wick, looking left out, cleared his throat and lifted his hand. “And what about me?”

Bones waved him over. “You can help me with the boxes, and then there’s something else I’ll need your help with once we’re done.”

Wick gave me a questioning look.

I shrugged. “Sounds good to me,” I said with a grin. “If Bones has something else for you to do, go for it.”

Everyone nodded, happy with their assignments, then scattered to their tasks. The kitchen bustled as everyone set to work, the holiday spirit weaving its way through the air along with the scent of freshly baked cookies.

This was perfect.

Chapter Fifteen

Bones

“How the hell am I supposed to know what tree she’d want?” Wick griped and squinted at the rows of Christmas trees lined up in the grocery store parking lot.

I just glared at him and tried to keep my patience. “Just pick one you like.”

We were out here in the freezing cold, surrounded by a small forest of fresh-cut trees, each one practically begging to be taken home and decorated. Snow had mentioned that she hadn’t even had the chance to put up her decorations yet, let alone get a tree. It was all the excuse I needed. I knew I wasn’t much help in the kitchen, but this? This I could do.

Wick, however, was making it more complicated than it had to be.

“That one’s got long needles, and that one’s got the short, stubby ones,” he observed as he pointed from one tree to the next.

I nodded. “Yeah, so which do you like better?”

He tilted his head to the side and gave them both a hard look. “I mean, they’re both nice…”

Jesus Christ. I thought this would be a quick trip—a grab-and-go kind of deal—but here we were, still staring at the damn trees.

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