Page 11 of The Biker Needs A Nanny

“Honey, could you get us napkins?”

She nods, eager to help, and runs off.

I move to grab some serving spoons for the containers of mashed potatoes, gravy, and other sides, and soon I’ve got the girls’ dished up.

Lucky fills them each a glass of milk, then looks at me. “You want some sweet tea?”

“Sure,” I nod and take a seat.

Lucky follows shortly with a glass for each of us and takes his place at the head of the table.

“Daddy,” Ella says. “Can we say what they taught us at Grandma’s house?”

“What’s that, honey?”

She looks at Poppy and grins, and they both start together.

“Thank you for the world so sweet. Thank you for the food we eat. Thank you for the birds that sing. Thank you, Lord, for everything. Amen.”

I smile at them as they grin, so proud to have remembered the words, then I glance up to see Lucky looking uncomfortable.

He points his fork at their plates. “Good job. Now eat your food.”

His eyes shift to me, and he doesn’t seem happy. He seems like this is another thing I’m to blame for.

Well, I’m not going to let his grumpiness or his issues with eating at a table get in the way of enjoying this meal with these adorable girls.

I lift my glass of tea. “And I’m thankful to have such lovely little girls to share this meal with me.”

They both give me huge smiles. Ella turns to her father.

“I like her, Daddy.”

“Good, now eat your food.”

We eat in silence for a while, before I can bear it no more. “How was your day at school, Ella?”

“It was fine. We had art. I love art.” She looks at her dad, then back at me and covers her mouth like she’s sharing a secret. “We’re making something special for Christmas.”

“Oh, I see.” I turn to her sister. “And how about you, Poppy? How was your day?”

“Kevin shoved Mia on the playground. I told the teacher. He got in trouble. Mia’s my friend.”

“Well, it’s good to stand up for your friends,” I say.

“She should shove him back,” Lucky puts in. “That’ll teach him.”

“Daddy, then she would get in trouble, too,” Poppy whispers.

He points his fork at her. “Anyone ever shoves you, you shove them right back. Understand? You get in any trouble, I’ll come down to the school and tell ‘em off.”

“What does ‘tell them off’ mean?” Ella asks.

“Means I’ll stick up for you.”

“Daddy, we’re not supposed to fight,” Poppy says.

“It’s not fighting if you’re defending yourself.”

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