Big Bad Daddy: A Single Dad and the Nanny Romance

I started feeling that sense of freedom I’d had all those years ago: the freedom I’d had when I snuck out late at night to meet up with my old boyfriend, the nights when I’d make a mistake and come home in handcuffs, even the nights when I wouldn’t come home at all—the memories were all flooding back.

I steered myself away from my old home and joined up with the road. There was a canyon road that had some of the finest sights in the area, and I felt it was the perfect time to see them; Momma could wait a few more minutes.

When I was free from the town I let loose, my hair whipping in the wind and the sun warming my face. I opened the bike up and leaned into the corners; I had all these roads memorized and could ride them blindfolded.

Then the familiar rumble of a motorcycle gang filled the canyon. I sense of dread befell me; if it was the person I thought it was, then I had no idea what I’d say to him. I pulled my cycle off the road and clicked her off.

From the bend in the road, a band of motorcycles filed out. I didn’t recognize any of them, which left me with a feeling of relief. But the guys still made eyes at me as they rode by.

I was used to it. I’d had a lot of guys fight over me in the past. But none had been as strong as Buck. I once saw him beat up three guys at the same time just for looking at me. He knew how to impress a woman.

There was a time when I would have done anything for that man, but he could never see me as his one and only. I’d always catch him with another girl, and he never understood why I thought it was such a big deal. If he wanted me to be his, then he needed to be mine.

Two of the bikers from the gang pulled off, and I knew what was coming.

“Hey there,” said the taller of the two who stopped.

“Howdy,” I replied.

“Who do you ride with?” he asked.

“I’m with Buck and his boys,” I replied.

The two of them looked at each other in a sort of horrified way.

“Pleasure meeting you,” they said as they turned and zoomed back to their motorcycles waiting nearby.

I laughed; Buck’s reputation was still just as serious now as it had been before. He had a bad temper and a lousy habit of letting everyone know.

Despite all his faults, I still wanted to see him. I somehow felt that he deserved to know I was back in town. Not a single member of his crew would come through without at least paying homage to the leader. I felt no different.

I slung myself back into the saddle and kicked the old girl back on. I tore down the road and toward the old bar that had raised me; it wasn’t very far from where I was.

The Whiplash Tavern was a sort of landmark in these parts. The sign outside was well past any state of repair. The front of the bar was full of motorcycles of all shapes, sizes, and colors. The signs in the windows hummed their neon tune as I eased my cycle into an empty place.

Before I could finish pulling in, I heard a loud crash echo from inside the bar, then what sounded like glass breaking, followed by the sound of a gunshot.

Then I saw Buck, sauntering out the front door with another man, who he held by his collar and belt.

“You take your shit and stay out of my town,” shouted Buck in his grizzly tone.

He threw the man to the ground as though he were a sack of flour.

“You’ll regret this,” said the man on the ground.

“I get told that a lot,” said Buck, “but I’m still waiting.”

The young pup picked himself up from the ground and sprinted to a nearby motorcycle. Another man, about his same size, ran out of the tavern and joined him. They looked like they were in a hurry.

Then Buck turned to me. It was the first time I’d seen him in five years, and it looked like he hadn’t aged a day. He was still the barrel-chested and grizzled man I’d known since I was a girl. He towered over nearly every other man I knew, and when he wasn’t the tallest, he was still usually the biggest. His cropped and disheveled beard was starting to show slight signs of gray, giving him a distinguished look, and his tattooed arms still looked just as strong as the first day I met him, maybe even a little bigger than before.

He clenched his jaw and let out a grunt before disappearing back inside. SO maybe he wasn’t excited to see me, and that made me a little nervous.

I entered quietly, but I recognized everyone, and they all recognized me. A loud cheer echoed throughout the small establishment, and I waved a meek hello.

“Thought that was your bike comin’ down the road,” Buck said as he walked back behind the bar.

“I’m amazed you can always tell,” I said.

“I damn near built that bike myself,” he replied. “I know my own work.”

He shoved a beer in my direction. I took it and sipped anxiously.

“What brought you back to town?” he asked.

I couldn’t bring myself to look him in the eye, so I just stared into my drink.

“My momma’s sick,” I said.

He stayed silent and washed a glass with his dishrag. He wasn’t one for words.

“I’ll be here a couple of months till she either gets better or dies,” I said, “and I don’t know which one would be better.”

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