The Biker Needs A Nanny (Thirteen Bikers for Christmas)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Lucky—

The next day, I take the girls to school, and then make a run with Brick and Pipe down to the docks at the port of Mobile. The club has connections that get us the occasional job transporting illegal goods. Today we’re here to collect a payment for a job already completed. We take my truck, and I slap a magnetic Kline Roofing sign on the doors. For all appearances, we’re just workers on a job.

We roll into the gravel lot of a warehouse buried down by the docks. US Customs is not far, and we’re always on edge.

“You see him?” Pipe asks from the backseat.

Brick slides his shades down and peers around. “Nope.”

I lift my chin. “That’s his truck, I think.”

There’s a beat-up white truck parked next to the metal building. I don’t see any other. I pull up behind it. The large metal sliding door is open about three feet, but it’s all dark beyond it.

“Stay on your toes,” I say and hear Pipe chamber a round with a quiet slide and click.

I idle and a few seconds later, a man steps out. He’s wearing a hard hat and safety vest, but I know that’s all for show. He approaches and I power the window down. He glances around, but he’s wearing shades. Leaning in my window, he slips me an envelope.

“Sorry, boys. I hired a different roofing company. I won’t need that estimate after all.”

It’s code.

I nod and slide the envelope to Brick, who thumbs through the stack of cash.

“It’s all good,” Brick says.

“Sorry for the inconvenience,” the man mutters and pats the window frame. “Maybe next time.”

“Call us if the other company doesn’t work out,” I say.

“You bet.”

I back out, and he disappears inside.

I quickly weave my way out of the area and jump on the expressway, headed back around the bay to Stillwater.

It’s a forty-minute ride.

“I’m getting really tired of these trips,” I mutter.

“Maybe we can put some prospects on this bullshit job,” Pipe mutters.

“There’s no way Prez is going to trust this to them.”

Brick slides his shades down and peers at me over the edge. “How ‘bout we stop at that shrimp place?”

“I gotta get back,” I say. “I’ve got shit to do.”

“Party pooper,” he mutters.

I roll my eyes. “I can drop you and Pipe off there. You can call an Uber.”

“Don’t you dare leave me with Brick,” Pipe says, and I laugh.

Brick twists to him. “What the fuck’s with you? And here I was gonna buy you lunch.”

“Sure you were, right up until the check comes, and you suddenly realize you don’t have your wallet.” Pipe smacks the back of Brick’s seat.

“Y’all are gangin’ up on me. What’d I do?”

I chuckle.

He chews on a toothpick, then looks at me. “You should bring Grace by the house. Angie wants to meet her.”

“She can meet her at the clubhouse party,” I say.

“Why not sooner?”

“I don’t want to rub her face in the club, okay? She’s already spooked enough.”

“Yeah, he had me come over and install a security system last night,” Pipe tells him.

Brick meets my eyes and pulls the toothpick from his mouth. “That right? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“’Cause there’s nothing to tell.”

“Sounds like there is.”

“Drop it. It’s handled.”

“Why you gotta be like that? You’re always carrying shit around and not sharing. We’re your brothers.”

“Speak for yourself,” Pipe says with a grin. “He shared with me.”

“Fuck off. Me and VP are like this.” He holds up his crossed fingers.

I reach over and flip on some music to drown him out.

“Ha ha. Very funny!” Brick yells.

I grin and drive, enjoying the music with no goddamn conversation.

When I get home, I trudge up the steps and into the kitchen and spy the clock. It’s half-past one. Then I notice a plate of cookies and snag one, recognizing they’re gingersnaps. My favorite. I imagine the girls must have told Grace.

Taking a bite, I find them still warm from the oven.

“Grace?” I call out, but I’m met with silence. Stepping into the family room, I glance out the windows toward the bay and see her at the end of the dock. It looks likes she hanging Christmas lights. “God, that woman isn’t going to stop until she blows every fuse in the damn house.”

I stroll out there, the dock shaking with my footsteps.

She turns.

“What are you doing?” I ask.

“Putting up lights.”

I’m munching on the gingersnap. “Did the girls tell you I liked these?”

She nods.

“I take it these were for me, then?”

She nods again and looks away. “Mildred said there’s a boat parade on the fourteenth.”

“Yeah. They come right past here.”

“Will you be in it?” She gestures to my small boat.

“I’ve got to get a new prop on it.”

“Prop?”

“Propellor.”

“Oh.” There’s a distant look in her eyes. “I bet the girls love it, don’t they?”

“We didn’t do it last year.”

“You weren’t planning to this year either, I take it?”

“Just need to find the time to fix it.” I realize it sounds like a lame excuse, even to my ears.

“Is it a big job?”

“Probably take me less than five minutes.”

She doesn’t say anything.

“It’s warm enough today. I guess I could do it now.”

I go to the garage and get the new prop and my tools, then change into my swim trunks.

Walking across the dock, I set my tools down, pull my shirt over my head, and jump into the waist deep water.

I notice Grace watching while I tilt the outboard motor out of the water.

“Need any help?” she asks.

I grin. “You offering to get down here in the water with me?”

“I was thinking more along the lines of handing you tools.”

“Sure. Hand me that socket wrench.”

She does, and I loosen the nut that holds the bent propellor and remove it.

“Catch,” I say and toss the large nut to Grace.

She surprises me by catching the thing, and I grin.

I pull off the propellor and set it on the dock, then grab the new one and wiggle it into place.

“Give me the nut,” I say, holding my hand out.

She does, and I tighten it in place.

“Is that all there is to it?” she asks.

“I told you it wouldn’t take long.” I lower the outboard motor into the water. “There. Good as new.”

Then I get a crazy idea and hold the socket wrench toward her, handle side out. “Here.”

When she goes to take it, I yank her off balance and into the water.

She shrieks and splashes next to me, coming up, wiping her face and sputtering. My laughter carries across the water, and she smacks me in the arm.

“That wasn’t nice. Now I’m soaking wet.”

When she stands, her white t-shirt is practically see-through, and even with her bra, I can see her nipples harden. My dick jumps in response, and my mouth goes dry.

Of course, she notices where I’m looking and crosses her arms.

“Sorry. It was a dumb prank. I shouldn’t have done it.”

“I bake you cookies, and this is what I get.” She heads for the ladder and climbs up.

My eyes travel over her wet, shapely body, and I grab her ankle.

“I’m sorry.”

She turns and our eyes connect. Something flashes between us, and the sexual tension is so thick I could cut it with my knife.

She jerks free and stalks into the house.

“Shit.” I heave myself out of the water, then sit on the dock, my legs dangling over. I give her a minute, then follow, going to my room to change into dry clothes.

Drying off with a towel, the framed photo on my dresser catches my eyes, and I pick it up. Melanie looked so pretty that day out on the boat.

I stroke my fingertips over the image, guilt washing over me. I’ve got no business being attracted to Grace.

She’s the nanny, and the girls love her.

I can’t fuck this up.