Page 43 of The Biker Needs A Nanny

“Look, there they are.” He points to an older couple standing on the sidewalk.

“Gigi!” Poppy practically jumps out of her seat.

We climb from the truck, and Lucky does the introductions before the girls are swept off to go to the carnival with their grandparents.

“I’m sure they’re about to be loaded with too much candy and bought too many souvenirs.” Lucky shakes his head. Then he turns his attention to me. “Want to go walk around?”

“Sure.” My face lights up at the idea. “I’ve never been to a carnival.”

“Then I better make sure you do it right. To the games first. Want to bring home a goldfish?”

“A goldfish? No, thank you.” I laugh.

“Then a giant stuffed animal it is.” Grabbing my hand, he leads me toward the midway where several of them are situated. “Knocking over milk bottles is a classic. Give it a try.”

He hands a carnival worker dressed like an elf a five-dollar bill.

The man hands me three baseballs. “Knock all the bottles over and you win.”

I observe three old-style milk bottles stacked in a tower. I throw the first ball and it completely misses the stand.

“You’ve got a strong arm, but your aim is shit,” Lucky says.

I throw a glare his way and try again. This time the ball skims one milk bottle, causing it to rock. But it manages to stay upright.

“Let me help.” Lucky steps behind me and takes my hand in his. “You’re releasing the ball too soon. Look where you want to throw and release when your arm is pointed directly at it.” He pulls my arm back and together we throw the ball.

This time, I knock two of the three bottles over.

“I did it!” I jump up and down.

The carnival worker comes over. “You can pick from this wall.”

It’s not the giant stuffed animal, but I’m still proud I won a prize. I choose a tiny yellow bear, thinking I’ll give it to the girls to share.

“My turn.” Lucky waggles his brows and hands the man some more cash.

His first throw knocks all three bottles down.

“How’d you do that?”

He winks and knocks another set down.

“Now you’re just showing off.”

With his last ball, he knocks one final set down.

“How are you that good?” I gape.

“The carnival comes every year, and I like to win.” He grabs a giant brown bear from the man and then hands it to me.

“For me?”

“I told you I was going to ensure you did the carnival right. Now it’s time to get some funnel cake and a foot-long corndog.”

“You had me at funnel cake.” I hug my bear as we head toward the smell of fried food.

We get one covered in powdered sugar and move through the games, stopping occasionally to play one.

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