The Biker Needs A Nanny (Thirteen Bikers for Christmas)

CHAPTER EIGHT

Lucky—

I drive six miles south to the land the clubhouse sits on. It’s across the road from the bay. The place is a metal building with two stories and an overhanging roof that gives us a covered patio.

I pull up next to several other bikes I recognize and drop my kickstand. Coop is our Sgt at Arms, Pipe is our Enforcer, Brick is our Road Captain, and Deez is our Treasurer.

They all stand under the overhanging roof, smoking and talking.

When I walk up, they turn.

“You’re late,” Coop says.

“Bullshit,” I reply, glancing at my watch. “I’m right on time.”

“We were gonna have a drink before Church. Now there isn’t time.”

“Boohoo,” I say, knowing they wouldn’t wait for me if they really wanted a damn drink. I light a smoke and take a deep drag. “So, what’s this meeting about?”

Coop shrugs. “Probably the toy run. Case told me the Birmingham boys were joining us this year.”

“Really?” I blow smoke toward the sky.

“Well, we came up for their run last year. Just payin’ back the favor.”

“Right.” I look over at Deez. “What’s the plan for the Christmas party?”

“It’s Saturday night after the toy run.”

“Can I get out of it?” I ask.

“Nope. It’s mandatory. Why would you want to get out of it?”

“Just not in the Christmas spirit.” I look into the distance.

“How’s your new nanny workin’ out?” Brick asks. “You run her off yet?”

“Yeah, we all took bets on how long she’d last. I’ve got tomorrow,” Pipe adds.

“Dickhead. She’s still there, so you lose.”

“Fuck. I put fifty bucks on it.”

“She’s gettin’ on my last nerve, though, so there’s still hope for one of you.”

“Why’s she gettin’ on your nerves?” Brick asks.

“She decorated the damn house.”

“And that’s a problem?” He lifts a brow.

“Christmas is when Melanie died.”

Brick shifts on his feet. “Oh, right. Sorry, brother, I forgot.”

“The last few years, I’ve let my parents handle Christmas at their house. I mean, I put up the tree for Santa, but I never go all out.”

“I get that,” Brick says.

“I had to go up in the attic to get the tree. I forgot that was where I put all Melanie’s stuff.”

“Sorry, brother.” Pipe pats my shoulder. “Maybe you should take it to Good Will.”

I suck in another stream of nicotine. “I’m not ready for that.”

Pipe cocks his head. “Did you tell her about Melanie?”

“Not really. But she’s seen her picture around.”

Coop flicks his cigarette butt into the gravel parking lot, and I watch it sail away. “So, what does she think? You’re divorced?”

I shrug. “Don’t know. Don’t care.”

“She good with the kids?” Brick asks.

“They love her. They’ve really gotten attached to her. And her cooking isn’t bad, either.”

“Winner, winner. Chicken dinner,” Deez crows. “So, what’s the damn problem? Sounds like this one is way better than all the others you’ve been through.”

“Maybe the four of us need to ride to your place and check her out,” Brick suggests.

“Don’t you dare. The MC thing already has her freaked. I promised her the club never comes to my house.”

“That’s mostly true, I suppose,” Coop replies. He jerks his chin toward the clubhouse. “Miranda still has the hots for you. She’s lookin’ to land a patch, and she’s got you in her sights, brother.”

“I don’t want an ol’ lady. To tell the truth, I can’t imagine another woman ever wearing my property patch. Not after Melanie.”

“Brother, it’s been two years,” Coop reminds me of something I don’t need reminding.

“In eighteen days.”

“What?”

“It’ll be two years in eighteen days,” I reply.

They all exchange a look. Yes, I know exactly how long it’s been. Some days, I feel like I’m ticking off time in a prison cell I’ll never be released from.

Brick settles his hand on my shoulder. “I know it must be rough.”

He doesn’t have a clue.

“Hey, VP, you ever gonna sell me that shovelhead of yours?” Pipe asks.

Brick turns to our enforcer. “That’s his prized possession, asshole. Hell, he prospected on that thing. He’ll never sell his first bike.” He turns to me. “Will ya, VP?”

“Nope.”

“Well, you change your mind, I better be your first call.” Pipe drops his cigarette and grinds the butt under his boot.

Case sticks his head out the door and emits a sharp whistle. We all turn.

“Church, boys. Now.”

The others stroll toward the door, but Brick stops me. “You bringing the girls to watch us parade through town?”

“The toy run? I guess so.”

“And after, you’ve got to bring ‘em to the clubhouse. Santa passes out a gift to all the kids.”

“Who’s playin’ Santa this year?”

“Papa Prez, of course.”

“We all gettin’ bottles of booze again?”

“Yeah. I heard it's top shelf this year.”

“Good.”

“And a box of cigars.”

“Way to ruin the surprise, Brick.”

“You bringing your new nanny to the party?”

“I hadn’t thought about it.”

“You should. Let her meet Angie. My ol’ lady will make her feel welcome.”

“I don’t know…”

“Well, who's gonna take them to the toy run parade if not her?” He grins. “I guess Miranda would be up for the job.”

“Shut up about her. Grace will bring them.”

“Grace, huh? That’s a pretty name.”

I roll my eyes. “Let’s get inside before Prez fines us both for being late.”

“He wouldn’t do that. He likes me too much.”

I huff a laugh. “Guess again, brother. I’m his favorite.”

Brick sticks his tongue out at me, then dashes to the door, leaving me in the dust. “You’re gonna be the last one through the door, buddy.”

“You asshole.” I follow him and his laughter inside.