The Biker Needs A Nanny (Thirteen Bikers for Christmas)

CHAPTER TWO

Grace—

Slinging my small duffel over my shoulder, I dash down the steps and out the door.

I don’t own a cell phone, so I have no way to check where this address is. But I know a way to find out, so I head toward Main Street.

The bell over the door jingles when I step inside Tony’s Ice Cream. I’m in luck, and there are no customers.

Cindy looks up from wiping down the counter.

“Hey, girl. How are you doing?”

I met Cindy when I first hit town. She’s about my age and trying to make her way in life. We bonded over our shared love of crafting.

“Can you look up this address for me?” I hand her the gum wrapper.

“Sure.” She pulls her phone out and puts in the information, then turns the screen toward me. “It’s seven miles down Highway 98.”

“Oh, my God. It’s right on the bay.” Stillwater, Alabama sits on the eastern shores of Mobile Bay, but waterfront property is the ritzy side of town, and one I’ve never seen. I’ve yet to even see the bay since I arrived in town.

“So, what’s at this address?”

“A possible nanny position.”

She lowers the phone and frowns. “You’re not at the diner anymore?”

“I got fired this morning.”

“What? Why?”

“I gave an old man a free meal.”

“Nick fired you? That dick. I remember he was all handsy when I worked there.”

“He still is.”

“Then you’re better off finding a new job.”

“That’s what I’m hoping this address will turn out to be.” My shoulders slump. “But how long will it take me to walk seven miles?”

Cindy glances at the clock. It’s almost lunchtime. “Hey, Tony?”

A middle-aged man pokes his head out of the back. “Yeah?”

“Mind if I take my lunch break now?”

“You just started two hours ago. Your break’s not until two.”

“Pretty please? Grace needs a ride. I’ll make it quick.”

His eyes shift to me. “Oh. Hi, Grace.”

“Hey, Tony.” I give a wave.

“Fine, but be back in thirty minutes.”

“Thanks, Tony,” Cindy replies, already pulling her apron off and grabbing her purse. “Come on.”

I follow her out the back to her beater car and climb into the passenger seat.

She cranks the tunes and pops her sunglasses on.

“Let’s go find you a job.”

Fifteen minutes later, she pulls to the side of the road near a mailbox.

There’s a little red car parked next to it.

I peer down the driveway and see a nice house and the blue water of the bay beyond it. “Well, here goes nothing.” I climb from the car, and Cindy leans over.

“I’ll wait to see if you get in.”

“Thanks.”

Tall pines sway overhead, and closer to the house, two palmettos sit on either side of the wide staircase that leads a few feet up to a cream brick house with a covered veranda and pretty double doors.

I walk toward it, the crushed shells of the driveway crunching under my feet.

The door opens, and a girl about my age storms out. She’s got long, straight blonde hair to her waist, a mini skirt, and a short denim jacket on. She turns and flips off a man who stands in the doorway.

His eyes move past her to me, and he pauses in the doorway. The blonde reaches me, her eyes giving me the once over.

“Honey, if you’re here for the nanny position, don’t bother. He’s the world’s biggest asshole,” she warns.

Everything in me wilts. I need this job. And if it comes with a place to live, it would be perfect. And living by the bay would be a dream. How bad can the man be? I’ve put up with bad bosses before.

Gripping my bag tighter, I keep walking, taking in the man as I approach. He’s tall and muscular with dark hair and a close-cut beard, but it’s those hawkish eyes that drag me under.

“That didn’t scare you off?” he snaps.

I shake my head. “I need the job.”

“She’s the sixth one to walk out,” he warns.

“Then I’ll be lucky number seven,” I say with all the positive energy I can muster. Standing at the bottom of the steps and gripping tightly to my bag, I wait like Mary Poppins came calling.

His gaze drags over me, his eyes narrowing. “Any experience with kids?”

“I raised my brothers and sisters. Does that count?” It’s not exactly a lie.

“How many?”

“Five.”

“You’re hired.”

My entire being lights up, and I want to jump with joy. “Really? Thank you.”

Tires squeal as the last applicant peels out, and he looks toward the road, then lifts his chin. “That your ride?”

I turn to see Cindy idling. I give her a thumbs up. “Yes, she was waiting to see if I make it in the door.”

“Well, come on,” he steps back, tapping his foot.

I wave her off with a big smile, my body buzzing with excitement.

“I haven’t got all day,” he snaps, and I hurry up the steps and in the door.

He slams it, and the glass rattles.

I glance around. The place has a British Colonial Plantation feel to it, like something you’d find in Bermuda or the Bahamas. The floors are wide plank with a dark satin polish. Crown molding and plantation shutters all speak of money—all except the furniture, which looks more modern and chosen for comfort rather than style.

I follow him to a dining room situated off the foyer to the left. He plops in a chair, and I notice a framed photo on the buffet. I take a seat diagonally from him.

“Are those your children?” I ask. They’re sitting on the lap of a pretty woman who must be their mother.

He barely glances at it. “Yeah. Ella is six, and Poppy is five.”

“Wow. A year apart. I bet they’re really close.”

“They are.” He cocks his head. “Miss…?”

“Reed. Grace Reed.” I extend my hand across the table. “And you are?”

“You can call me Lucky.” He doesn’t take my hand, and I drop it.

I cock a brow, my smile fading a bit. “Lucky?”

“It’s what everyone calls me.”

“And what is your last name?”

“Hartwell. So, Miss Reed, how long have you been in Stillwater?”

“Not long.”

“How long is not long?” he presses.

“Um, I guess five months.”

He nods, studying me. “And where were you before that?”

“Hattiesburg.”

“And how long did you live there?”

“Two months, I think.”

“You seem to move around a lot. There a reason for that?”

I shrug. “Just worked out that way.”

“What was your last job?”

“Until this morning, I was a waitress at Nick’s Diner. Do you know the place?”

“I’ve driven past, but can’t say I’ve ever eaten there. Why’d you leave?”

I take a deep breath and give him the truth. “This morning an old man came in with a handful of coins and asked me how much he could buy with the amount. I gave him a meal for free. My boss found out I didn’t charge him, and he fired me on the spot. Said it was the same as stealing.”

“It is.”

“So, you think I was wrong to do it?”

He folds his arms and leans in his chair. “Not saying it wasn’t the right thing to do, but it’s not yours to give away, is it? Maybe you should have gotten permission.” A grin forms on his face. “Guess that makes you a rule breaker.”

“Not usually.” I lift my chin. “Are you a rule breaker?”

“Grace, I break all the rules.”

His answer makes me nervous, and something over his shoulder catches my eye. Through the archway is the kitchen with an island. Slung over the back of one of the barstools is a leather vest. I focus on the patches. Evil Dead MC, Alabama.

The blood drains from my face. Biker gang.

He sees my reaction and twists, then leans his elbows on the table.

“Having second thoughts, Miss Reed?”

“I—um, maybe.” Mr. Lucky Hartwell is a badass biker—the definition of the wrong kind of man, and one I should not get involved with no matter how badly I need this job. After everything I’ve been through, I can’t afford to get involved with another man like the last one.

“Yeah, I ride, and yeah, I’m in a club. But you have nothing to worry about. My club never comes here. I’m barely home myself.”

My eyes shift to the photo of those innocent children. I need a job, and maybe they need me, too. But this is a big gamble. “Um…”

“All I’m lookin’ for is someone to take care of my girls. That’s it. I’m not gonna hurt you. I promise.”

“What’s the pay?” We haven’t discussed the details. Maybe this isn’t worth it, not that I can afford to be choosey. I’m literally homeless.

“Room and board, and one-fifty a day.”

I clear my throat. “A hundred and fifty dollars a day? And that’s for five days?” I’m quickly trying to do math in my head.

“Seven days, actually. You’ve got to be available at all times. I could be called out at a moment’s notice.”

“Called out?”

“By my club. They call, I’ve gotta go.”

“Oh. So, that means I’d never get a day off?”

“Well, I’m sure we could work that out. Plus, the girls are in school from seven-thirty to three. You’d have that time to yourself.”

“Is there anything else you’d expect besides caring for the girls?”

“Cooking, cleaning, laundry…”

I lift a brow. “That’s a lot more than just being a nanny.”

“I guess it is. Okay, fine. Two-hundred a day, but that’s my final offer. Deal?”

“Deal.” Inside, I’m jumping up and down. As my heart settles, I wonder how he earns his money, but I’m not sure I want to know. Right now, I’ve got deniability on my side if the cops come knocking. The less I know about him, the better. “When do I start?”

“Right now, if that works for you?”

“Perfect.” I glance around. “Where do I put my things?”

He stands. “I’ll show you.”

I follow him through the kitchen, which is connected to a family room with a fireplace and an entire back wall of windows overlooking the bay.

“Wow. It’s beautiful.” The sun sparkles on the water, and I see a long dock with a covered area at the end. “It faces west, doesn’t it? I bet you get gorgeous sunset views. Is that your dock?”

His eyes follow mine. “Yeah. Feel free to use it. Both of my girls can swim like fish, so don’t be afraid to let them out on the dock. But it is too cold in Mobile Bay for swimming right now.”

“Good to know. I mean about their ability, not the water temperature.”

“Right. Come on.” I follow him down a hall and up a flight of stairs to the side of the house that faces the road. “This room on the left is the girls.”

He opens the door, and I see two twin beds under the windows. Everything is girly pink. Cute stuffed animals sit against their pillows.

“And this one is yours.” He opens the door across the hall.

There’s one queen-sized sleigh bed set against the far wall, with two windows at the back of the room. There’s a dresser and a mirror opposite the bed.

I drop my duffel to the floor. “It’s perfect. Thanks.”

“Is that all the stuff you have?” he asks, indicating my one bag.

“I travel light.”

“Seems so.” He glances at his wristwatch.

I seldom see men wearing them anymore, now that cell phones exist. But it looks good on him. Masculine. Powerful.

“The girls get out of school soon. I’ve got to pick them up. You can ride with, and I’ll show you how it's done. I’ll need to call the school tomorrow and add you to the list of people allowed to pick them up.”

“There’s a list?”

“Every student has a list.”

“Oh.”

I follow him downstairs and outside to a big black pickup truck with a crew cab. He beeps the lock and opens the passenger door for me. I have to step up on a running board because he’s got it on a lift kit. I can only imagine the little ones trying to climb inside this thing. Once I’m buckling my seatbelt, he shuts my door and walks around the hood. I take in the lush leather seats and glance at the car seat and booster in the back.

The truck shifts with his weight as he slides behind the wheel, and suddenly I’m hyper-aware of his presence. I smell the soap he wears, and it's intoxicating. That, combined with being so close to him in the enclosed space, has my pulse beating faster. Everything about him is masculine and draws me in. I watch him spin the steering wheel in a circle with one hand, while his right rests on the gearshift. His hands are even masculine—big with long fingers and callused palms. I wonder what it would be like if he moved that hand from the gearshift and settled it on my thigh like any boyfriend would do.

Stop ! I can’t allow myself to have thoughts like those.

I look over at him and notice his strong jaw and beautiful mouth. I wonder if his beard is soft to the touch. I wonder what it would feel like to kiss him.

Get a grip, Grace. You can’t have him. You can’t want him. You shouldn’t even let yourself imagine.

I turn to the road flashing past and try to think of anything but the man beside me. Lucky Hartwell. Badass biker. My new boss.