Page 49 of The Biker Needs A Nanny

“Ready girls?”

They jump up and down, and we head out.

It’s difficult to find a place to park on the side streets, but I eventually find a spot big enough to park this big truck. “It sure is crowded, isn’t it?”

“Everyone loves the parade. They throw candy. Then Santa comes by in his sleigh. Then all the motorcycles go after Santa,” Ella informs me as we walk toward Main Street.

“We have to find a good spot,” Poppy insists.

We walk through the crowd, and Ella finds us a place near a lamppost, and we squeeze in at the curb. I’ve got my hat and glasses on, but I glance around, constantly on the lookout for Eric.

A marching band starts the parade, followed by a float made up to look like the north pole. Then a group from a dance schoolcomes through, dressed like ballerinas. Another band comes through dressed like tin soldiers. A group of adults walk along the edge, tossing candy canes and lollipops to the kids.

Before long, Ella and Poppy have their pockets stuffed full.

There are several more floats, and then a group dressed up like Santa’s elves.

And then Santa comes past on a float with his sleigh and reindeer. The children all cheer and wave as he goes by.

Then we hear the rumble of motorcycles, and I spot Lucky’s club lined up in two rows, their bikes lit and decorated, and all of them in red Santa suits.

The crowd loves them.

They throw handfuls of candy from bags resting between their legs.

I spot Lucky and point. “There’s your daddy.”

There are many loudho-ho-hos.

The girls stand and wave. “Daddy!”

Lucky spots us and waves, and I have to admit, even with the fake white beard, he looks pretty good in that red suit. He’s got two giant teddy bears strapped to the back of his bike. There are antlers strapped to the handle bars, and we made the back of his seat look like a sleigh by fashioning some cardboard and decorating it with garland, paint and lights, with a small bag of toys and a little Christmas tree sticking out of it.

The motorcycles are the last of the parade, and then the crowd disperses.

I take the girls’ hands, and we walk with the crowd surging around us. I follow the bikes, and they lead us to the toy collection site. Once the riders all park, Lucky climbs from his bike and hugs his daughters, sweeping them into his strong arms. “Ho, ho, ho. Have you been good little girls?”

His eyes twinkle with the happiness on his face, and it’s a joy to watch him with his children.

“Hi, Daddy,” Poppy says, hugging his neck.

“I like your headband,” he tells her.

“Grace gave them to us,” Poppy says.

“Did she? And did you say thank you?”

“Thank you, Grace,” Ella says.

“You’re welcome, angel.”

He sets them down, and they go to look at the big teddy bears on his bike. Lucky steps closer to me. “Thanks for bringing them. It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome.”

His eyes sweep over me. “You look real pretty.”

I flip the glasses up and bat my eyes. “You think so?”

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