Page 33 of The Biker Needs A Nanny

“So, the only coat you have is that threadbare thing in the hall?”

“I’m fine.”

“I didn’t ask if you were fine. I asked if it was the only coat you have.”

She rolls her eyes. “Yes.”

“Come on.” I grab her by the arm and put her drink in her hand.

“Where are we going?”

“Shopping.”

“Shopping for what?”

“For you.”

She tries to pull free. “Oh, no we’re not. I don’t need your charity.”

I’ve still got ahold of her. “Call it a Christmas bonus. And don’t argue with me, Grace.”

“Who are you to boss me around?”

“Uh, yourboss. And we’re not leaving until you spend three-hundred dollars.”

“Three-hundred dollars? For a coat?”

“For clothes.” I haul her to my truck and open the door for her.

She huffs but climbs in.

I go around the hood and slide behind the wheel. She sips on her Frappuccino, trying to look all pissy. I grin.

“What?” she snaps.

“You. Trying to look all pissed off while sucking down that whipped cream treat.”

She turns her head and looks out her window, but I see the curve of her cheek and know she’s smiling.

I throw the truck in gear.

There is no big mall in this small town, but we have a small department store, so I head there. I hold the door for her, and she glances around the parking lot. She suddenly seems nervous.

Once we’re inside, she seems to calm down.

A saleswoman approaches. “May I help you?”

I point to Grace. “She needs a warm coat and a couple of outfits.”

“I only agreed to a coat,” Grace insists.

“She’s got three-hundred to spend.” I talk over her head to the saleswoman.

“I’ll take good care of her.”

Half an hour later, Grace picks out a coat and a pair of jeans. The sales woman leaves to check for another size of an item, and I stroll over toward a display of shoes. I spot a pair of boots suitable for riding, then check myself. She’s my nanny; she’s not going riding with me. I can’t even think about shit like that.

I round a table, and a guy smacks into my shoulder.

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