Page 137 of Barinov

I hold up her coffee. “What about this?”

“Thank God!” she squeals again.

She taps Khoza on the shoulder. He gently lowers her to the ground. His hands steady her by the waist until her feet hit the tile. Haley smooths her burgundy Wexley tank-top and makes her way over to me.

“Traffic was a mess,” I say, handing it over. “It’s probably cold by now.”

She takes a sip and instantly grimaces. “Ugh. Yeah, that’s tragic. Good thing I love an iced coffee. Spiced.” She hands it back with a wink. “Think you can fix it?”

“On it, boss.” I salute, drawing a laugh out of her. “It looks great in here.”

“You think?” she asks, biting her bottom lip. “Ellie is usually the one planning this shit.”

“She’s gonna love it,” I say before stepping behind the bar.

I grab a glass from the top shelf, fill it with ice, and pour her coffee over it. Then add in a splash of milk, a little more vanilla, and top it off with an ounce of coffee liquor for good measure. I stir it and slide it back across to her.

She takes a sip, moaning as the coffee hits her lips. “Oh my God, Cade! This is amazing. Seriously, if this whole art thing doesn’t work out you should think about opening up a coffee bar.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Did you get the presents?” she asks, taking another sip.

“Lex is supposed to bring them down,” I add. “And before you ask, Mom said the cake will be here in a little over an hour.”

“Good,” she says with a shaky exhale while glancing around the room. “I just want her birthday, slash welcome home, slash congrats on winning a world championship party to be a big success.”

I reach over the bar and grab her hand, drawing her focus away from the chaos behind her.

“It will be.”

Chapter 34

LEX

The Obsidian

Waiting on Briggs and Ellie to fucking show up.

48 days since Bella’s kidnapping.

“Where the hell is she?” I ask, hunched down under the black marble bar at The Obsidian.

I’m shoulder to shoulder with Cade and Haley, personally thanking God that I no longer have to wear that straight jacket Dr. What’s-His-Nuts called a sling. My shoulder still flares from time to time, but at least I’m free of the damn thing.

Everyone else is hidden in velvet booths or under glitter covered tables.

Except for Laing.

He’s standing behind a tiny pillar in the corner like a dipshit in broad daylight with that poor bartender chick, Callie, draped on his arm. Stealthy Triad boss my ass. Man’s built like a threat and hides like a four year old.

I went up to Callie when I got here earlier and told her to blink twice if Tattooed-Dragon-Dick was holding her against her will. Mortal Kombat didn’t find that funny. His auburn-haired, blue-eyed little beauty did, so fuck him.

“Caleb said they were pulling in,” Cade replies, shifting his weight in the dark and accidentally smashing his bony knee into my thigh.

“Ouch!”

“Sorry, babe,” he whispers.