Page 25 of The Biker Needs A Nanny

The vendors comprise artists selling paintings and sculptures, crafters selling different unique trinkets, wreaths, ornament stands, clothing, toys, and, of course, delicious drinks and baked treats.

The girls and I meander from one tent to the next, taking it all in.

We see little nativity scenes carved from wood and hand-knitted Christmas stockings.

“Hey, you need a stocking.” Ella turns to me.

“Oh, I guess I do.” I sift through the hanging stockings. “Which one do you think would be good for me?”

“Well, mine is the ballerina from the Nutcracker, and Poppy’s is Rudolph.” Ella seems to ponder, scrunching her mouth to the side and furrowing her brow.

“What does your dad’s stocking look like?”

“He has Santa,” Ella replies, still thinking.

“Yeah, but his Santa isn’t right,” Poppy chirps.

“Oh?”

“He’s got sunglasses, and he’s sitting on a motorcycle instead of a sleigh,” Poppy continues.

“Well, that’s because your dad likes riding motorcycles.”

“It’s still not right,” Poppy scoffs.

“How about this snowflake, then?” I hold up a beautiful snowflake design in white and silver sparkling thread.

“No,” both girls declare at once.

“Mommy’s was a snowflake,” Ella explains.

Poppy grins. “Daddy said she was as beautiful as one.”

“And he said she was one of a kind,” Ella adds.

“Well, then, I definitely can’t get this one.” My fingers drop from the stocking. “How about a gingerbread cookie?”

“Yes, yes!” Poppy screeches.

“That’s perfect. You cook all the time,” Ella agrees.

I grin at their reasoning and buy it.

We wander farther down the path until a glorious smell reaches my nose. “Mmm, that smells delicious.”

“What does?” Poppy looks around for the source.

“Coffee and cookies. I love a good Frappuccino.”

“And I love a good cookie,” Ella declares.

“Can we get some? Please?” Poppy begs.

“Sure. They might even have some hot chocolate.” I waggle my brows.

A few minutes later, we find a bench to sit on while we eat a pack of Christmas cookies. The girls got hot chocolate, and I decided Lucky could splurge and buy me a Frappuccino. I smile as the sugary sweetness touches my tongue.

“How are your cookies?” I ask the girls.

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