Page 3 of Holly's Christmas Biker

“I think it’s just a cold from the weather changing,” I reply. “But I have an appointment with the pediatrician in the morning just to be on the safe side.”

“Good. Let me go make up some of my soup,” she says, getting up from the chair. “I’ll bring it over when it’s done.”

Smiling, I get up too and hug her. “Thanks, Grammy. Love you.”

“Love you more, my precious girl,” she replies, kissing my cheek. “Call the bar and set up an interview, we’ll watch the girls. Andlet’s both just pray your pappy doesn’t go and speak his mind to Myra.”

I start to snicker because my pappy is absolutely livid at what Myra is trying to pull. He wanted to go over there with a check, but I wouldn’t let him. Still, he’s always been my biggest defender and protector, so I wasn’t surprised at all when he said that’s what he planned to do.

“I’m sure he will at some point. It’s not okay, Grammy, what she’s doing, and I think the fact that Samuel filed divorce papers says as much. He tried to pay her as well, but she wasn’t having it, and I think that’s the straw that broke the camel’s back.”

“He’s a good man. Shame he raised a weak-willed son, but with that ballbuster as his wife, I’m not surprised. He wasn’t like that in school, but when she came up pregnant, all of his dreams went up in smoke.”

I know that feeling. While I will never regret having my girls, my plans didn’t involve becoming a teenage mother.

“We all have to play the hand we’re dealt, Grammy. You and Pappy made sure I have a strong work ethic, and I’m young enough that this won’t be difficult to handle, at least for a few months.”

“I know, I know. I think you got a healthy dose of my stubbornness, too,” she teases.

“Very true.”

“Here goes nothing,” I mumble as I get out of my truck, lock it up, then walk to the employee entrance at the back of the bar where a biker with the word prospect is standing next to the door.

“You the new bartender?” he asks, giving me a once over.

I may not be as slim as I was before I had my girls, since my curves now have curves, but I like to think I’ve filled out well, all things considered. In keeping with the atmosphere, I’m wearing comfortable jeans, a low-cut shirt that gives a hint of cleavage, and my favorite pair of cowboy boots. I know most wouldn’t think they’d be comfortable considering I’ll be on my feet all night long, but they’d be wrong. Plus, they have the added bonus of having steel toes, which means I can protect myself.

“Yeah,” I finally reply. I kind of feel like I need a shower to be honest. He’s spent so much time leering at me, I feel dirty.

“Go on in,” he states, opening the door.

“Thanks,” I remark, stepping through the gaping doorway.

I’m not sure what I expect, but despite the fact this is predominantly a biker bar from everything I’ve been able to figure out, I’m pleasantly surprised to find the vibe is warm and inviting. The lights are low as they normally are in a bar, but I can see a stage and a dance floor off to one side, while the bar is off to the other. I head back to the employee break room, where I place my purse in the locker I was assigned the day I came in for my interview, while my phone goes into my back pocket. A quick stop in the restroom, where I take care of business then wash my hands and I’m ready to sling some drinks.

“Hey, Holly,” Morris says as I make my way behind the bar. “Glad to have you with us.”

“Glad to be here,” I reply, quickly glancing around at the bar top to see everyone has a full drink in front of them.

“Boys, this here’s Holly. Y’all be nice to her, she’s got two little ones she’s working for,” Morris states as he glares at each of the men sitting at the bar.

I smile at each one as he introduces them, not surprised that several are part of the Steel Raiders MC, since they’re located in our town. They’ve got a decent reputation, too, which makes me feel better about my choice for a part-time job. They may be a little bit wild and reckless, but they’re always doing stuff that benefits our small community.

“Two little ones, huh?” the one introduced as Ash asks. “How old?”

“Three and five,” I reply.

“Damn, must have had them when you were what, twelve?” he questions, smirking at me. “Because you barely look legal.”

I snicker because I have my grandmother’s genes and know I look like a teenager. “I was a few years older, I promise, and I’m legal now.”

“Does Rebel know?” Ash asks Morris.

“About hiring her? Not her specifically, no, but he knows I was hiring someone. Fucking Simone kept calling out, and not for nothing, but I’m getting too fucking old to be here six days a week.”

“And yet you’re still here despite Holly showing up,” Data points out. His flash on his cut says he’s the club’s IT guy, and I briefly wonder if that extends to the accounting stuff or not.

“She’s gotta learn the ropes,” Morris growls out. “Now, y’all get to drinking so she can earn some tips, y’hear?”

---