Page 4 of Protected By the Bikers Next Door
“We’d be happy to get you wet anytime, sweetheart,” I promise, enjoying how her cheeks flush red as she gets the insinuation. “No need to cover up that gorgeous body.”
I’m left wondering how she would have responded to that, because, at that moment, a little girl comes running out of the house. Harper’s daughter, I presume.
“You’re having a water fight without me, Mommy?” she asks as she rushes over barefoot, still wearing pink pajamas, her hair in disarray, having just gotten out of bed. I’m not a big fan of kids, but even I have to admit this one is cute.
“Sorry, sweetie, you were sleeping,” Harper replies, ruffling her hair and taking hold of her hand. I notice the subtle way she shifts to protectively place the child just behind her. I want to yell that we’d never hurt a child. It pains me that she’d think so. “These are our new neighbors,” she adds.
“Hi, I’m Jenny. What are your names?” she asks innocently, hanging off of her mother’s hand.
Bear, the best out of the three of us with kids, answers. “I’m Bear, and these are my friends Wolf and Hawk.”
Jenny wrinkles her nose and looks up at him in confusion. Tilting her head, she replies, “Those are silly names, you’re boys, not animals.”
Bear chuckles. “You’re right, they’re not our real names, they’re nicknames. We got them when we were in the Army. I was a medic, and these two were soldiers. My real name is Ezra, Wolf is Logan, and Hawk is Silas, but we prefer to use our nicknames.”
Jenny nods, understanding. “Are you called Bear because you’re big and hairy like one?”
This makes us all laugh. Harper scolds her daughter. “Jenny, don’t be rude!”
“No, it’s okay. You’re right, kiddo,” Bear says.
She nods, pleased to have her suspicion confirmed. She turns her attention to Hawk. “Can you fly?” she asks in awe.
“Unfortunately, not. It’s because I’m good at watching things and spotting the small details, like a hawk,” Silas explains patiently.
“I can see why you’re Wolf,” she says, turning her focus to me.
“Why’s that?” I say, expecting her to say, because I’m the leader or something.
There’s nothing like a five-year-old to humble your ego.
“Because you’re so gray!” she replies triumphantly.
Again, this makes us all laugh, even Harper, who looks ready to grab her daughter and run at any second.
“I want a nickname,” she declares, looking at us expectantly.
“Why? You’re a little lamb,” Bear replies affectionately.
Jenny scrunches up her face, frowning and crinkling her nose in disapproval. “That’s not very scary.”
“Well, no, but you don’t need to be scary because your Mommy is a lioness,” Bear explains. When Jenny still seems unconvinced, he continues, “Being a lamb is pretty awesome. Lambs love to play. They have lovely curly hair just like you do, and they can jump really high. I bet you can jump higher than all your friends, can you?”
She nods enthusiastically and begins hopping on the spot to show him.
“See, you’re the best lamb I ever saw.”
Jenny beams at Bear, completely won over by his charm. I feel a pang of jealousy when I see the look in Harper’s eyes. It seems Jenny isn’t the only one Bear has impressed.
“Come on, sweetie, our new neighbors have got things to do, and you need to get dressed. Say goodbye now and go on inside,” Harper says to Jenny.
“Bye!” Jenny says with an enthusiastic wave before running into the house.
Harper watches her go inside before turning back to us, her former fury returns. “Get these bikes off my lawn,” she demands, turning on her heel and storming off.
We all watch her walk away before doing precisely that. It’s only when we get inside our place that we finally talk about her.
“Damn, she is something else,” Bear says wistfully.
