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She cocked her head to the side. “I am panty-less per our agreement.”
“Okay, I’ll have to be careful,” he mused, eyeing her dress that hit mid-calf.
Before she could ask if he’d snuck a psychedelic lollipop during their performance while she wasn’t looking, he took a step toward the audience.
“We’ve got to bring this to a close. Thank you, New Beats students and faculty. You’ve been an amazing crowd. We want to give a heartfelt shoutout to our baking coach, Schuman Sweet, and Cupid Bakery and Luxe Media and Entertainment. We wouldn’t be here without them and everyone working behind the scenes. See you for the next challenge on LookyLoo,” he added, looking into the camera, then turned on his heel and scooped her into his arms—just like he’d done after the last challenge.
“Landon,” she yipped. “Why are you carrying me…again?”
“We’re making a grand exit. It only makes sense. We left the first challenge this way. Think of it as me getting you out of here in style,” he replied, hoofing it off the stage.
“You call this in style?” she shot back, holding on to the man for dear life as she bounced around like a sack of potatoes in his arms. It didn’t feel quite as jarring as last time—though she had been high as a kite then. “And what’s the hurry?” she pressed as some poor dude opened the door leading to the parking lot.
“Hold that for us,” Landon ordered, bulldozing through.
In what could only be described as the craziest non-getaway getaway, her husband plopped her into the passenger seat of the Lamborghini SUV, then got in and took off like they’d robbed a bank.
“You’re taking school pickup to the next level. And when I say ‘the next level,’ heartthrob. I mean ‘completely psychotic,’” she shrieked, gripping the Lamborghini’s oh-shit handle because, oh shit, her husband was a maniac behind the wheel.
They zoomed through the city, catching green light after green light. She needed to distract herself, or she’d pull a stuntwoman move and barrel out of the car like it was about to plunge off a cliff and she needed to make a hasty escape.
She had to distract herself from Landon’s manic moves behind the wheel.
She closed her eyes and went over the rollercoaster of events.
Vance was a terrible husband—not a shocker—and douche. But that was nothing new.
Barbie was a sweet chick with more depth than she’d given the glitter-master baker.
Speaking of baking…they’d won the second challenge.
They’d freaking won.
Babs’ house would be free and clear if they continued their streak and killed it in the final challenge.
That was terrific news.
And then, what?
Shit, she’d opened the doom and gloom floodgates.
Would their nanny-aunt arrangement come to an end?
And what about Italy?
If Landon and Aria wanted her to join them, they would have said something by now, right?
Her stomach twisted into an anxiety-ridden knot.
Her emotional pendulum was working overtime, swinging from one extreme to another.
“Why do you think Madelyn was at New Beats today?” Landon asked, cutting into her angst-ridden musings.
She opened her eyes. “I don’t know. Maybe she donates to the organization. She does seem to know everyone,” she answered when Landon’s phone vibrated like it was going into convulsions.
“Don’t worry about that,” he said, eyes trained on the road as he hit the gas.
She scoffed.
