Wild Christmas (Wild Heart Mountain: Wild Rider’s MC #17)

5. Nate

5

NATE

“ H ow’s the new nanny?” Snips pulls out the chair opposite me, spins it around, and straddles it.

So many ways to answer him flit through my mind. She’s got perfect curves, her smile makes me smile, and I’m having indecent thoughts of the kind I haven’t had in years.

“She’s great with the girls,” is all I say. “They really like her.”

“Good.” He sounds as relieved as I am. “Maybe this one will stick around.”

A memory of Freya from yesterday tucked up on the couch and laughing at Elf , her cheeks rosy from the heat of the fireplace, pops into my mind. “I hope she sticks around too.”

I must have put too much warmth into my voice, because Snips raises his eyebrows at me but wisely doesn’t say anything .

“Have you thought of doing DNA testing for the girls?”

His words hit me like a punch to the gut, and I sit up straight in my chair. “Why would I do that?”

He pulls a foil packet out of his pocket. “Me and April have done it and Bailey too. They analyze your genes and tell you if you’re susceptible to any diseases so you can take preventative measures. Turns out both me and Bailey have the gene for macular degeneration. It doesn’t mean we’ll necessarily get it, but if we eat more carrots now and get regular eyes tests, we can limit our chances.”

He waves the packet around in his hand. “I thought you’d be into all that science shit, so I got you a testing kit.”

He puts the kit on the table, and I eye it warily.

He’s not wrong. The idea of analyzing your genetic makeup fascinates me. But I’m more concerned about what else it might reveal.

“It was a two for one offer, so it was free anyway. Thought you’d be the most into it.”

I scratch my jaw as I listen to Snips tell me all about the test results and what insights it’s given him and April about Bailey.

There’s always something new in parenting, and I start to wonder if I’m doing it wrong if I don’t get a DNA analysis of my girls. Hell, there’s a hell of a lot I’m doing wrong, having indecent thoughts about the nanny being the top one.

Snips heads out the back, and I pack up my laptop. I’ve hidden at the clubhouse for most of the day, and it’s time to get home and see what the hell she’s done to my house.

I go out via the workshop. We’re not officially open on a Sunday, but Luke has the garage door up and is tinkering with his wheels. He got the road name Chariot, and that’s the perfect word to describe his wheelchair adapted bike.

There’s a side platform that he rolls up before lifting himself onto the bike. The brakes and accelerator are operated by hand. But what’s most impressive is the paint job. Bright flames lick the side of the setup, making it look like a Roman chariot of the Gods.

My bike sits in the corner, plain by comparison. “How’s she looking?”

“We’ll need to work on her tomorrow, and I’ll get her back to you in a day or two. Just needs an oil change and a tune up. You could probably have done that yourself.”

I nod at the younger man. “The thing is I don’t know shit about bikes.”

He raises his eyebrows. “I guess I don’t know shit about computers.”

“Correct. So you fix my bike, and next time your laptop needs an update, you bring it to me and I’ll sort you out.”

Luke grins and indicates his chariot. “You need a lift home?”

“Thought you’d never ask.”

He wheels himself onto the platform and folds his seat against it. I take a seat on the passenger side. I’m not used to riding pillion, but the kid is excited to tell me all about the bike and I can’t deny him the pleasure.

He’s as passionate about bike mechanics as I am about fixing tech. I don’t understand all the bike terms he’s telling me, but I understand the passion and enthusiasm.

He’s a different kid than the one who turned up two years ago broken and feeling sorry for himself. He lost both his legs in Afghanistan, which is a shitty thing for anyone and especially a guy so young.

It’s good to see him happy now as he tells me about every adaptation he’s made for his bike.

We chat for a while, then he starts her up and we head home. I’ll bring the Tesla back tomorrow and tow my bike home, but right now I need to see what the hell Freya’s done to my house.