Page 72 of Biker's Babygirl

“Are you saying thirty isold?” my Daddy had demanded in mock-outrage. Then he’d stomped toward me, his eyes smoldering in that way that told me things were about to get exciting in more ways than one.

At the moment, I’m holding the boy’s little sister, bouncing her on my lap while their mother caught up on much needed sleep. The little girl coos and grins, her lips curving into a precious smile.

A couple hours later we’re packing up and getting ready to get back on the bike.

“You’re very good at that,” Duke comments as he nuzzles my neck.

I smile at the gesture, feeling my heart flutter even after spending every day together. “Good at what?”

“I was just watching you with Taylor’s little sister. The two of you were adorable. You’re kind of amazing, Ginny.”

I lean into him and tip my head back to gaze at him. “That’s funny—I was thinking the exact same thing about you.”

Duke leans down and puts a kiss on my forehead. “C’mon, babygirl. Let’s get some breakfast.”

Right on cue, my tummy growls. We’re both laughing as we climb onto his motorcycle. I wrap my arms around his waist and when the bike engine roars to life, I feel my adrenaline soar. This is what it was like to live the good life, and now that Duke has showed me, I’ll never go back for anything.

Duke

“You can’t just eat sugar and carbs,” I scold, frowning as I watch Ginny. “Eat your eggs too.”

She just flutters her lashes and stabs another piece of pancake dripping with syrup. Then, with the impish grin that makes my cock come out of slumber, she pops it into her mouth. She grins at me and a little syrup leaks out of the corner of her mouth.

“Ginny,” I say in my lowest, most-stern Daddy voice. “You need the protein. Or does my brat need something else?”

There’s a pause, and I see her weighing her options. When her naughty smile turns into a pout, I know she’s made the right decision. “I don’tlikeeggs.”

“They’re good for you.”

“That doesn’t mean I have to like them!” she insists, shifting into full sulk mode.

I consider my beautiful babygirl, wondering if she’s overdue for a spanking. It’s hard to believe sometimes that it’s been half a year since everything with Lucas came to a head. She was a mess at first. One minute she was terrified that someone would come after us, and the next she would be bratting, demanding a reaction.

It had taken several long months of proving that I would never leave, no matter what she did or said, before we began to slip into a normal routine. But sometimes her fear would still rear its ugly head—her eyes would challenge me, silently askingare you here for the long haul? Are you the Daddy I need?

I intend to do everything within my power to show her that I am, and that I’m not going anywhere.

I’ve learned sometimes that the best thing I can do is to just ask what she needs. My hand goes to her knee, squeezing in a way that is a warning, but also reassurance. “You can eat your breakfast now, or I bet Peggy would let us borrow that backroom for a little bit. You can eat your eggs cold and with a sore bottom if you’d rather.”

Ginny shivers, and I feel the way her muscle tightens as she considers me. “They’re yucky,” she insists, but her tone has softened.

Willing to accept her olive branch, I pick up my own fork and stab a bite of egg. She watches while I pop into my mouth and chew. “Hmm. I think all they need is some salt and pepper.” I reach over and doctor them with the seasonings, then I stab another bite and hold it up to her mouth.

She hesitates, but only for a second. Then she opens her mouth and accepts the food I offer.

“How’s that?”

“Better,” she admits, albeit begrudgingly.

If that’s the best I can get, I’ll take it. To her credit, Ginny lets me finish feeding her, and I swear, my heart stretches and fills with more love for her with every bite. I don’t know that I’ve ever loved a person more.

“You wouldn’t want to get married someday, would you?” The words are out of my mouth without a single speck of thought, but even as I hear them, I know I wouldn’t take them back even if I could.

Ginny’s eyes widen. Then she pushes my hand away, and the fork with the last bit of egg that I’m holding. “Not to a man who won’t let me eat my pancakes,” she sasses.

I take in the mischievous glint in her eyes and the flush of color in her cheeks. I nod and set down the fork. “Okay. I’m going to get the check and then we’re going home. I think my naughty little girl needs to remember who’s in charge here.”

She ducks her head, but not before I can see the curve of her lips. When she squirms, I’ve never found her more adorable.

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