Page 19 of The Biker Needs A Nanny

“Well, dear, now you know.” Mildred touches my arm. “Maybe you can forgive him for all the bluster he throws around. It’s just the pain coming through.”

“I suppose so.”

“And now you’re here, and things will get better. Time heals. Perhaps you’ll give him back his smile.”

“I don’t know about that. I seem to get on his nerves.”

“You? Pssh. Nonsense. You’re a beautiful woman. If anything, he’s probably attracted to you and doesn’t know how to deal with it.”

I don’t believe that, but I don’t comment on it. “There’s something else I’ve been wondering about. This is a really nice house. Not the kind of place I’d expect a man like him to own,” I muse.

“Oh, this was John and Elizabeth’s place—Melanie’s parents. They died in a tragic car accident when Melanie was pregnant with Ella. She was an only child and inherited the house in the will. And then when Melanie died, it passed to Lucky. He could get a fortune if he sold it, but it’s the only home his daughters have ever known. I don’t think he’ll move them from here.”

“Well, that explains a lot. It just seemed so at odds from the man he is.”

“I suppose, but I’ll tell you this. He’s been a good neighbor. When Albert couldn’t get our car to start, Lucky came over and fixed it. He wouldn’t even accept money when we tried to pay him. Yes, sir, a girl could do worse than a man who’s kind to the elderly.”

I smile.

She cocks her head at the decorations again. “You know, you have quite the knack for all this. I’m having a Christmas party in a few weeks. Perhaps I could pay you to do up the front of my house for it. How does four hundred dollars sound? And, of course, any décor items you need to do up a nice design.”

My mouth parts. “Are you serious?”

“Yes. I think you’ve got real talent. Do you think you could do it in a day? Perhaps if you have a day off, we could work something out.”

“I’d love to do it.” I pause. “I, um, should probably okay it with Lucky.”

“Of course.” She stands. “Well, I need to get home. Maybe you could talk to him before next weekend, and we can get a plan.”

“I will. Thank you.”

“Come along, Cinnamon. It was lovely visiting with you, Grace.”

“You, too, Mildred. Goodbye.”

She pauses and turns. “Did he tell you about the boat parade?”

“Boat parade? No, ma’am.”

“It’s on December fourteenth just after dark. The boats are all lit up. They go right past our docks. You should watch it. I’m sure the girls would love it.”

“Thank you. I’m sure they would.”

After she leaves, I head inside.

It’s almost five when Lucky and the girls return from their shopping trip. I’ve got a pot of chili simmering on the stove, and a pan of hot cornbread warming in the oven. Everything I know about cooking comes from when I cared for my foster sisters and brothers. I love reading cook books and watching cooking shows, and I’ve picked up some skills along the way.

For me, food is a way to make people happy.

I hear them troop in the door.

Lucky stops at the entrance to the kitchen and looks around.

“Where are the cookies?”

“What cookies?”

“It smells like cookies.”

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