AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“That’s the response I’m looking for from my baby mama”—he slaps his thigh—“you can come on over here to Papa and give me a big ol’ hug so that I can whisper sweet nothings into your ear.” My Southern drawl is over-the-top, but Tucker’s is next level.
His arms are waiting to sweep me up in them, but he’s also got an eagle eye behind those aviators on everybody in the room, calculating the danger level from the way his head shifts slightly back and forth.
He slides a hand gently around my neck, grasping me by the nape, which sends stupid tell-tale tingles to my lady parts.
“You are hurt,” I whisper against his cheek.
He ignores my comment. “Shagspeare, I have missed you. So brave and selfless wearing that belly. So, fucking beautiful.” I tamp down the rush of pain that his comment unhinges in me as he gently applies pressure on my neck to guide our mouths closer before kissing me passionately.
I’m hungrily playing along—tongue and all—because we are role-playing. Now is not the time to dwell on my past and the pain that comes with it.
His kiss is a necessary distraction, which my va-jay-jay is all for accepting as it wants to dry hump his leg.
He drags his mouth slowly away, saying louder, “Honey-pie, we can’t be doing this in front of the nice folks.”
Who?
Tucker’s chuckle is low and sexy at the confused look on my face.
“Yeah… go get a room,” the redhead calls out dryly.
Oh, my God, I am dry humping him.
Tucker helps me slide my leg down from where I hooked it around his waist.
“To be continued later,” he whispers, pushing his aviators down his nose far enough to wink one hazel eye at me before he gently molds his tall, muscular body around mine. He draws his head down to nuzzle my neck, murmuring, “Mack has the other two tweedledees secured outside with the day’s takings. Those bookish glasses of yours are marvelous, by the way. We need to have sex ASAP with you wearing them, but without the Bond tech operating.” Then he thoroughly kisses me again, leaving me with no doubt how much I want this man.
I can see the redhead in my peripheral vision watching us rolling her eyes and looking at the time on her watch.
We come up for air. “Don’t even think for a second that I would walk away from you,” Tucker whispers, “we have lots to talk about, but know, you are mine, and once you get finished here—”
Mario loudly clears his throat. “Café is closing now, Bunny. You might want to take your man home.”
Tucker’s response is to kiss me again, holding a hand up, acknowledging Mario’s words, pointing one finger in the air, requesting a moment longer without breaking the kiss.
I take my hand and place it over his heart, telling him I love him as well.
Just as we break apart, Mario’s fiancée charges past me, well, as fast as a thirty-seven-week pregnant female can while carrying a heavy load. Mrs. Diamond is hot on her heels, hollering for her daughter to remain calm and slow down.
“Shit, Mack, we have a problem,” I whisper without moving my mouth, and Tucker places a hand on my lower back protectively.
Celeste Diamond starts screeching at her fiancé about cheating while wielding a taser gun in both hands aimed at Mario and his table guests.
Mack’s head appears around the corner of the front door. “I told them to wait in the parking lot.” My boss curses colorfully under his breath in my ear.
“Don’t move bitches, or I’ll pump you full of electricity. Mario, you bastard, you can count yourself single as of this second.” Accusations of cheating fly out her mouth. “You are dead to our unborn child and me,” she sobs through clenched teeth.
We agreed to give Mrs. Diamond daily updates at her request but explained it would be best for everyone to keep this information to herself until she had the final report and visual proof because this is what can happen. Confrontation can endanger people and open up the dialogue for denial and questions.
Damn, we just crossed the border into enraged and unpredictable territory. Mrs. Diamond opened a can of worms that could get someone physically hurt.
“Oh. Shit,” the redhead waitress mutters, and then she bolts toward the back exit, making her getaway. She identifies the shit is hitting the fan, and it will get messy.
“Redhead accomplice running, back exit,” I whisper.
There is no need to chase her down; if Mack can’t get to her quick enough, the law will eventually catch up with her. She doesn’t know the evidence I have collected against the part she played. She will think it is her word against theirs, and there is no proof, but she doesn’t realize my glasses are recording everything.
Mario tries to stand up, but Celeste has none of it, ordering him to sit while he starts pleading with his fiancée to stay calm for the baby’s sake and wanting to know where she heard such rubbish.
