“Yeah, no judge in the world is going to believe there was no malicious intent.”
“You know he’s the smartest man in the universe. Surely the judge will buy into his claim that he knew I adored red velvet cake and that was why the inside of the cake was scarlet. And how could it possibly be his fault that the bakery delivery fumbled the cake, breaking it in half, and smearing frosting about. Surely no one can fault him for poor service from the bakery.”
Jamie frowned. “He might be able to get that one past a judge. Is red velvet your favorite?” I nodded. “Damn. Was the cake ordered to be in two chunks?”
“The baker claims it was one solid cake when it left his shop, picked up by someone he doesn’t remember.”
“Well, that sucks.” He shifted a little closer, being sure to keep his glass of clementine fizz above the bubbling water.
“It does. And the driver who delivered the cake has mysteriously disappeared after talking to the cops. Just quit after that first day. All his info on his application was false so we have one flimsy description from the bakery owner that wehanded over to the cops and a PI to hopefully track him down. It’s just so mentally exhausting.”
“Why would someone hire someone without checking his background and such?”
“The guy was strapped, and he was supposedly a friend of a friend, so he took the chance. The friend of a friend was also BS, but the delivery man knew enough about the baker to know some of his friends. It’s all really creepy, which fits Leon well.”
I was so grateful to have a restraining order in place now. I should have done it long ago, but I kept hoping Leon would move on with his life and leave me to do the same.
“Honestly, is there no depths of evil conduct that arsehole won’t sink to?”
I refused to dwell on the whole who-owned-Bruno aspect of this mess. Yes, his name was on the registration papers. But the cake incident and my testimony about him trying to hit the dog was, I prayed, going to be enough to bring him down in court. If they granted ownership to Claudia that would be fine with me. Sure, I’d love to have my dog back, but he was happy with my sister. If Leon was granted custody of Bruno I might do something rash, and it would bemefacing charges. If only he would relent about taking Bruno. I would have settled out of court—hell, all I wanted was for him to leave me the fuck alone, screw any monetary damages that might come to me—but oh no, he had to“expunge the heinous slights to his name”in front of a judge. His words not mine. Stupid, foolish, egocentric jerk.
“Seems not. I think he’s been sliding more and more into some real mental health issues but the cops showing up on my behalf pushed him over. For years, he was this cool-as-a-popsicle abuser, but once the truth was revealed and his shiny exterior has been tarnished, he really took a nosedive.”
“Your brow is all furrowed.” He reached up with wet fingers to smooth my forehead. “Enough talk of that twat. This is ourtwo-day holiday away from the rest of the world. I, for one, am looking forward to spending it doing nothing but lying about, making love, eating scones with clotted cream off your chest, and doing a bit of reading.”
I wiggled about in the tub. “Do we evenhavescones and clotted cream? That’s the first question that comes to my mind. The second is when can we break them out?”
“What do you think was in all those bloody bags from the market?”
“Clementine sparkling water?”
“Yes, okay, there were a few bottles of those, but there were also some tea purchases since your cupboards are woefully devoid of any quality tea bags.”
I snickered at his vehemence when it came to tea. I loved him so much I’d even bought an electric kettle for him to use. You microwave one cup of water for your boyfriend once or use a generic tea bag from a box purchased at the dollar store, and—whoa, boy. That was a lesson learned.
Only Yorkshire Tea for Jameson Hennessy, if you please. The Brits are quite serious about their tea.
He continued. “And some of those biscuits you introduced me to.”
“The Pepperidge Farm tea cookies.”
“Yes, those.” He wiggled about in excitement. “They’re lovely with tea. I may have bought a few bags of those as well, to tide us over.”
“Any cheesy puffs?” I hit him with my best sad puppy face.
“As if I would go shopping and not find you some cheesy doodly things.” I slid close, hip to hip, and stole a fast kiss. Mm, he tasted of sweet clementine. “And scones with clotted cream. It’s hell to find clotted cream in this barbaric country but there are a few stores that carry it.”
“You love us Americans and you know it.” I stole one more kiss, tossed back my sparkling water, and then stood. Jamie sat in the tub, staring up at me questioningly.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
“I am more than okay. I think it’s time to break out the scones.”
“Ah.” He finished his fizzy orange drink, placed the glass on the edge of the redwood tub, and rose from the bubbles. The lights in the tub made his wet skin glisten. “Far be it for me to stand in the way of anyone having a scone.”
We paused long enough to turn off the hot tub. I’d cover it and gather our glasses later. Right now, it was time to feed a rather hungry-looking Brit.
Our first dayof the Nothing-but-Jamie-and-Craig-Two-Day-Holiday started with me giving him a blowjob to help him wake up. It was payback for his amazing display of oral skills last night. His tongue could do glorious things with clotted cream. As could his fingers.
