Page 70 of The Biker Needs A Nanny

I spy it immediately and tap the glass. “This one.”

He unlocks the case and brings it out to show me.

It’s three black leather braids with a silver fastening. But the best part are the three silver bands that encircle them.

“Those can be personalized. And you can get as many bands as you need up to five.”

“I only need three.”

Ella tilts her head. “What will you put on them?”

I smile. “You’ll see.” I turn to the salesman. “How much will it be?”

“Eighty-five for the bracelet, and ten dollars per engraved band, plus tax.”

“How soon can you do the engraving?”

“I can do it now if you want to wait.”

“That would be wonderful. I’ll take it.”

He slides me a pen and piece of paper. “Just need the three words you want engraved on the silver bands.”

I jot them down and pass the slip of paper back to him.

The man leans forward. “There’s a bakery next door. They’ll give the children a free cookie.”

Poppy jumps up and down. “Cookies. Can we get one?”

“All right. Let’s go.” I take their hands, and we walk over. The moment we enter, it smells like Christmas: gingerbread and peppermint.

The girls each get a cookie, and I purchase a pecan pie for after dinner.

Fifteen minutes later, we return to the jewelry store, and I walk out with a tiny shopping bag containing a small black box tied with a gold bow.

Heading back to Lucky’s pickup, I spot a green truck and freeze. Then my eyes find Eric leaning against a wall under an awning. He’s looking up the street, and I jerk the girls into a nearby doorway, my heart pounding, and my mouth dry.

I’ve got to get to the truck and get out of here.

Dropping to a squat, I look in both of their eyes. “Angels, I need you to do exactly what I say, okay? We’re going to run to the truck and get inside as fast as we can.”

“Is it a race?” Poppy asks, still munching on her cookie.

“Yes, it’s a race.”

I stand, and look across the street, but Eric’s gone.

I’m frantic now, grabbing them both by the arm. “Come on. We have to go right now. Hurry.” I rush them to the truck. “Get in. Get in. Hurry!”

The girls scramble inside, and I slam the back door, then jump in the front and hit the door lock. My eyes dart around. I’m terrified he’s going to pop up next to my window. I throw the gear shift in reverse.

“We’re not buckled yet,” Ella says.

“Help your sister. Hurry.”

Ella helps Poppy, then gets in her booster. “What’s wrong, Grace? You’re scaring me.”

I jam the truck in drive and hit the gas, roaring down the street, my eyes on my rearview and side mirrors.Where is he? Where the hell is he?

---