Page 21 of Naughty Santa Daddy

And Christmas is her favorite holiday. The decorations begin appearing right after she puts her Halloween stuff away. The other holidays are barely acknowledged, even Thanksgiving. Christmas is what makes Granny’s heart happy, as she always says. So much so, she starts her countdown the day after New Year’s.

Her movements are hypnotic when mixed with the scent of sweet potato casserole. Nothing better than cinnamon wafting in the air and Granny’s gentle hum. Just being in her home relaxes me, and I ease back in my chair and exhale.

Damn, I’ve missed her something awful. Gramps too. I don’t have parents or siblings, only the MC and Granny… Memories of beautiful Alex stir deep in my soul. Maybe our paths will cross again, and we can see where things—

“About time you came to see me, Braxton.” Granny shakes her head as she drains a can of sweet potatoes. “Where you been all month?”

“I’ve been working. The club—”

“The club isn’t more important than me,” she shoots back before I can make up a lame excuse. Granny doesn’t know the shit I’ve been dealing with the past few weeks, nor should she. I’ve done my best to keep her out of the MC. Nobody knows about her except for Miller. He and I go way back. We have a history since before we patched into the Hell’s Jokers MC.

“Your biker friends are bad news, Braxton. I saw the news.” She waves her finger at me. “Those Santas were you and your friends, weren’t they?”

“I swear. We had nothing to do with it.”

“Pfft, never mind. Knowing you were there is enough to send me to an early grave.” She is an itty-bitty thing, spunky as hell, and has a heart of gold. But that doesn’t mean she won’t speak her mind.

“You’re right.”

“Come again.” She places her hand at her ear and leans toward me.

“You’re right, Granny, as always. Nobody is more important than you.” As the words leave my lips, my phone rings, and I promptly answer when I see Miller’s number. “Yeah?”

“Brother, we need a private meeting,” he says in a quiet voice. “Where you at?”

“Granny’s. Everything okay?” It’s a dumb question. He wouldn’t be asking for a private meeting or whispering if things were good.

“We have a rat in the club.”

“No fucking way!” A hearty laugh bursts from my chest because he’s surely pulling my leg.

“Mercy, I hope you don’t kiss Mrs. Claus with that mouth,” Granny chides, and I immediately think of Alex. Didn’t she holler something similar? No doubt, those two would get along well if they got to meet each other—like two peas in a pod.

“Sorry, Granny,” I reply without looking at her. A rat in the club repeats in my head. It’s absurd, but Miller’s silence makes the muscles in my shoulders lock up and my laughter dies in my throat. “Prez?”

“Meet me at the shack,” he hisses into the phone.

Now he has my full attention. We didn’t talk about the shack. Ever. Nobody in the club knows about it. My blood turns cold as I get to my feet. “It must be bad.”

“Deadly,” he says.

“I’ll be there in an hour.”

Miller ends the call without another word. He’s a lot more serious now that he’s president. Being the leader of an outlaw biker club is an honor, but it’s also a heavy burden. He’s responsible for everyone’s safety, and if there is a goddamn rat in the club, Miller will question every person’s loyalty.

I turn toward Granny. Her hand is resting on her hip as she stares at me.

“The club needs you.” It’s not a question, and the resolve in her blue eyes hurts me.

“Yeah.”

“Then you best get going.” She shuffles my way and captures my face in her cold hands. “Maybe if you found yourself a nice girl, you wouldn’t play with that club anymore.”

“Granny, please.” I doubt she will ever understand what the MC means to me.

“Start a family, Braxton. Gimme some great-grandbabies to brag about at church. I’m the only one there with nobody to talk about.” Her words slay me. All she wants for me is a traditional Southern life. To be a family man. To go to church with her. I can’t do any of that. I’m a Joker. An outlaw biker who’s done time. It hurts me to disappoint her, but I must…

“I doubt I’ll ever find a nice girl. You know I don’t run in nice crowds, Granny. It’s time you accept who I am and who I’ll never be.” And with those final words, I dash out of her home to meet up with my president to hear what he has to say about the rat in the club.

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