Page 21 of The Biker Needs A Nanny

A few minutes later, I’m bent over the open oven, pulling the pan of cornbread out, and turn and find Lucky standing there.

“Oh, Christ. You scared the crap out of me.” I grab my chest and almost drop the pan.

“Sorry.” He moves closer and lifts the lid.

“I made chili.”

“I see that.”

“I made it mild for the girls. I thought you could add extra red pepper to yours if you want it hotter.”

He just stares at me, causing me to second guess myself.

“Will they eat chili? Maybe I should make them some mac and cheese.”

“Probably. They don’t like a bunch of foods all mixed together. Ella will tell you it’s gross.”

“Oh.” My shoulders slump. “Okay. Two mac and cheese orders coming right up.” I step to the pantry and grab two of the microwave kind he’s got plenty of stock in. “How about the cornbread? Will they eat that?”

“Sure.”

“My recipe is more on the sweet side… like a corn muffin. I find it’s not as crumbly.”

“Then they’ll definitely love it.”

“I usually smother it in butter. Some people like honey. What do you and the girls do?”

“Butter, definitely.”

I get down some bowls and a basket for the bread. I line it with a paper towel and then cut the cornbread in squares. My hand is shaking.

“You okay?”

“Yes, I’m fine.” He unsettles me… the way he’s watching me. I paste on a bright smile. “Why don’t you handle drinks?”

“I’ve got to go to the clubhouse after dinner. I don’t know when I’ll be back.”

“Okay. Thanks for letting me know.”

Good to his word, the minute we’re finished with our meal, he can’t get out the door fast enough. I have to wonder if he’s avoiding me or the decorations. Oh, well. The girls and I can finally decorate that sad little tree I pulled out of the bag the other night. I assembled it, trying to have high hopes, but it’s really seen its better days.

I hear his motorcycle rumble off into the distance, then smile at my little charges. “Girls, let’s decorate the tree!”

Their eyes get big.

“Come on, I set it up last night in the family room. I bet we can even find a Christmas movie to watch.

“This is going to be the best night ever,” Ella says, throwing her hands in the air.

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lucky—

I drive six miles south to the land the clubhouse sits on. It’s across the road from the bay. The place is a metal building with two stories and an overhanging roof that gives us a covered patio.

I pull up next to several other bikes I recognize and drop my kickstand. Coop is our Sgt at Arms, Pipe is our Enforcer, Brick is our Road Captain, and Deez is our Treasurer.

They all stand under the overhanging roof, smoking and talking.

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