Page 41 of The Biker Needs A Nanny

“Well, I’ve never gotten to decorate before.”

“What do you mean? Your family didn’t celebrate?”

“I don’t really have a family. My mom died when I was little.”

“I’m so sorry.”

I wave off his sympathy. “My grandma was my only living relative, and she was so old, she couldn’t take care of me. The state wouldn’t allow it.”

“Where did you end up?” He tilts his head like he’s trying to solve a puzzle.

“Foster care. Nobody adopted me, so the other kids became my family. My grandmother would visit, but she died before I was ever old enough to age out of the system.”

“Wow. I had no idea.”

“It’s not something I broadcast. Anyway, I know you hate decorations, but it’s brought me real joy this year. I used to cutup paper into snowflakes with all the kids at the foster house, but I never got to really decorate with lights and everything.”

He shuffles his feet, guilt etched on his face. “Look, I’m sorry I’ve been such an ass. This time of year is hard on me. It brings back some bad memories.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” I press, trying to give him an opening.

“No,” he snaps gruffly. “Go on and help Mildred.” He turns to his bike.

“Are you trying to keep up walls between us?”

“Walls can be a good thing, Grace. Especially when they prevent you from making a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“Walls can stop a man from going after something he has no business going after.”

I stare after him as he walks to the house and slams the door.

I finish at Mildred’s with about an hour to spare.

“It looks beautiful,” Mildred croons.

“I’m so glad you like it.”

“Like it? This will have Barbara shutting her mouth. She always brags about how her house wins most beautiful, and she barely does a thing. Well, she’s not winning this year.”

“Is there a competition?”

“Oh, just between us old ladies.” She smiles, returning to her sweet demeanor.

“Well, I have to get ready to go pick up the girls.”

“Of course, dear.” She hands me an envelope with my payment and thanks me again.

When I walk back in, Lucky is pouring a glass of sweet tea.

“Did you finish?” He peers out the kitchen window toward Mildred’s house.

“Yes.”

“Looks good. At least what I can see.”

“Thank you. Don’t forget, the girls wanted to go get a Christmas tree today after school.”

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