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I could tell it took all of his strength to force his face into something other than complete and utter shock laced with, “I’m going to tell everyone I work with about Mr. Phil Latio and his bionic penis.”
“Yeah,” he said, clearing his throat a few times. “I really hope it goes well for him.”
“Did you happen to find his room number?”
“Oh, right,” he muttered. “Give me just a second here.” He clicked the mouse a few times and scrolled the screen until he nodded. “Mr. Phil Latio is in room 455.”
And there’s five.
I grinned like the Cheshire cat. “Thank you so much. Have a fantastic rest of your day.”
There were going to be some seriously uncomfortable looks in my baby daddy’s future.
Serves you right for lying to me, T.
As I hopped on the elevator and headed toward my room to strategize my second move, I couldn’t deny that I felt elated and giddy and was practically bouncing around on the balls of my feet from the excitement.
I hadn’t felt this surge of adrenaline since the early stages of our prank war.
I was hit with a wave of sentimental emotion.
This feels like the good old days all over again, before Thatcher finally realized I’m the ultimate prankster.
Get ready, Phil Latio. I’m coming for you, and it won’t be for the money shot.
Okay, yeah, maybe it would be, but after I wrung his neck.
With the too hot Arizona sun shining directly in my eyes and the birds chirping their delight, I lifted my face to the sky and breathed in the possibilities of what I was cooking up. I knew no woman could resist a man who was truly in love with her, his intentions as pure as the driven snow, even when he was being a world-class idiot. Because, really, if they could, no woman would ever settle with any man. Because sometimes—oftentimes—we were idiots.
What do you expect? We’re biologically driven toward sex and connection and procreation. Women were gifted with the ability to think outside the box. And I’m okay with that. I’d rather be the lesser person in our relationship. Because I know, with how hard I’m trying, that makes her one hell of a woman.
My phone rang loudly, echoing against the two-story building and drawing the attention of several women, children, and a couple of men.
I was shopping, so the numbers were slightly skewed.
This time, when I saw the name on my phone, I actually smiled.
“Hell—” I started to answer before Kline interrupted me.
“Where are you?”
Glancing around the busy Phoenix outdoor mall, I made note of all the places that would make a good hiding spot. The fountain. The children’s rides. The dark hallway with the bathrooms. They had to be there somewhere.
I clucked teasingly into the mouthpiece of my phone and laughed. “I’m pretty sure you guys already know.”
“Nope,” he disagreed. “We stopped following you after you left the shoot. But I’ve got some news for you.”
Instantly on alert, my smile turned upside down, and I focused on the call as hard as I could. “Good or bad? Is Cassie okay?”
“Oh, yeah, she’s fine.”
I took a deep breath and admitted to myself, Okay, maybe you’re not completely over the whole overprotective thing.
“But if you’re in your room, I’d find a way to be somewhere else, and fast. Georgie let it slip that you’re here—”
Let it slip, my ass. Shit.
“And knowing what I know of Cassie—”
Oh, yeah. And he didn’t even know half of the truth when it came to my crazy woman.
“She’s already talked the hotel into disclosing my room number,” I finished for him. “Fuck.”
I’d used a code name, but God knew, Cassie was deeper inside my head than anyone. She’d probably thought of that goddamn name before she’d remembered my real one. She was a prank specialist, for fuck’s sake, and with the pregnancy hormones running rampant in her lithe little body, her ability was probably enhanced. That’s how the fucking things worked with everything else—hair, nails…sexual appetite.
I was so fucked.
“Yep. Obviously, maybe this is a good thing,” Kline went on. “You decided to stop following her anyway, so now you can enjoy the game with her tomorrow without any secrets between you.”
Yeah, great. Except I’d just spent the last two hours arranging more secrets. Lots of them. Ones I still wanted to be able to conceal until the most opportune moment.
“But, since you didn’t get to break the news on your own…”
Georgia squeaked with indignation in the background. “She tricked me! She’s a fucking asshole!” There was some scraping and scrapping, like maybe she was grabbing at Kline’s hands or the phone or tackling him to the ground or all of the above. Directly into the phone, she yelled, “Your fiancée is an asshole!”
