Page 23 of The Biker Needs A Nanny

Coop flicks his cigarette butt into the gravel parking lot, and I watch it sail away. “So, what does she think? You’re divorced?”

I shrug. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“She good with the kids?” Brick asks.

“They love her. They’ve really gotten attached to her. And her cooking isn’t bad, either.”

“Winner, winner. Chicken dinner,” Deez crows. “So, what’s the damn problem? Sounds like this one is way better than all the others you’ve been through.”

“Maybe the four of us need to ride to your place and check her out,” Brick suggests.

“Don’t you dare. The MC thing already has her freaked. I promised her the club never comes to my house.”

“That’s mostly true, I suppose,” Coop replies. He jerks his chin toward the clubhouse. “Miranda still has the hots for you. She’s lookin’ to land a patch, and she’s got you in her sights, brother.”

“I don’t want an ol’ lady. To tell the truth, I can’t imagine another woman ever wearing my property patch. Not after Melanie.”

“Brother, it’s been two years,” Coop reminds me of something I don’t need reminding.

“In eighteen days.”

“What?”

“It’ll be two years in eighteen days,” I reply.

They all exchange a look. Yes, I know exactly how long it’s been. Some days, I feel like I’m ticking off time in a prison cell I’ll never be released from.

Brick settles his hand on my shoulder. “I know it must be rough.”

He doesn’t have a clue.

“Hey, VP, you ever gonna sell me that shovelhead of yours?” Pipe asks.

Brick turns to our enforcer. “That’s his prized possession, asshole. Hell, he prospected on that thing. He’ll never sell his first bike.” He turns to me. “Will ya, VP?”

“Nope.”

“Well, you change your mind, I better be your first call.” Pipe drops his cigarette and grinds the butt under his boot.

Case sticks his head out the door and emits a sharp whistle. We all turn.

“Church, boys. Now.”

The others stroll toward the door, but Brick stops me. “You bringing the girls to watch us parade through town?”

“The toy run? I guess so.”

“And after, you’ve got to bring ‘em to the clubhouse. Santa passes out a gift to all the kids.”

“Who’s playin’ Santa this year?”

“Papa Prez, of course.”

“We all gettin’ bottles of booze again?”

“Yeah. I heard it's top shelf this year.”

“Good.”

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