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“Which husband was this?” Cricket walked around the table and placed another tray of sandwiches down. “The one who passed from a stroke, or the one who disappeared?”
According to Lorraine, Betty, who was her childhood best friend, had been married five times. Three of her five husbands had died from natural causes, one had disappeared without a trace, and she was currently married to the fifth one. You couldn’t tell by looking at her, with her white curly bob haircut, oversized glasses and checkered dress, but I was pretty sure Betty was some type of black widow, killing off her husbands and taking all their money.
Or maybe I should stop listening to those serial killer podcasts.
The entire morning had been like this. Lorraine had taken me around the property for a tour. It was obnoxiously larger in the daytime than I had realized last night. I mean, Covington had his own nine-hole golf course on the property, which was over four thousand acres. My tiny little brain couldn’t even comprehend how large that was. The amount of money these people had, I bet you couldn’t even count it. Around every corner there was something big and glitzy, and Betty loved to tease Lorraine over it. Cricket, Lorraine’s sister, would pipe up every so often to stir the pot, and the whole thing was beyond hilarious. By the time we had ended our teatime, my stomach was hurting from laughing so hard.
“Where’s my grandniece at?” Cricket looked around the table of fifteen-plus women. “She’s missing all the fun.”
Lorraine stacked the teacups and handed them off to one of the waitstaff. “Iva got stuck in Memphis, but she’ll be here tonight.”
I stopped mid-chew. That was odd. We’d stopped in Memphis last night too. Why hadn’t Ryzen mentioned Iva was there? Probably just a coincidence.
The rest of the women at the table began stacking plates and cups, so I did the same. In all, it had been a great morning. The Three Musketeers—what Lorraine liked to call herself, Betty and Cricket—had made me feel welcome and a part of their family. The other half of the table, not so much. They were all part of Covington’s family—daughters, nieces and the like. They had spent most of the time giving me odd looks and whispering among themselves. It was probably because half my tattoos were showing, but I didn’t give a rat’s ass about their opinion. As far as I was concerned, Lorraine was the only person I needed to impress at the table, and I would say I was doing a good job at it. I hated I was technically lying to her, but I just had to remind myself it was for a greater cause.
Betty looped her arm through mine and dragged me away from the table. “Now listen, Nova. You seem like a good girl, so I’m going to give you some pointers for the baking competition.”
I was all ears. If I had learned anything this morning, it was that these people did not mess around when it came to competitions. They were petty, dirty, and took this bakeoff seriously. The winner won a trophy, five thousand bucks and the most important thing of all: bragging rights. Penelope, another one of Covington’s granddaughters, had won last year. She was one of the women at the tea party who had turned up her nose at me and seemed to do most of the whispering, not to mention that she ignored almost every question I tried to ask her. She reminded me of my sister, Grace. And I knew exactly how to deal with people like that.
We walked the path to the back of the main house, and I ate up every word Betty said. “Watch out for sabotage. That’s how Penelope won last year. She done stole the whole pan of cupcakes right out of Maryellen’s oven, otherwise she would have won. Poor girl spent the entire night crying after that. Make something rich. Only use white chocolate. No fruit, or these big-bellied Southern men will laugh you out of here. And absolutely no nuts. Richard is allergic. And don’t tell anyone I gave you any tips. Last, be careful. This family can be a bunch of wolves dressed in sheep’s clothing.” She winked and patted my hand.
I was definitely out of my element. Need a design for a stimulating dildo? Then I’m your gal. Want me to bake something from scratch and try to win a competition? Most likely wasn’t going to happen. But I wasn’t a quitter. And I would not let some of these hoity-toity women make me feel like a loser.Not today, Satan.
We hopped on a waiting golf cart and zoomed down a dirt path, five other carts behind us. I couldn’t stop my eyes from rolling as we approached the west side of the property, a good ten minutes from the main house. When they’d said it was a family bakeoff and carnival, I thought they might have some ponies and clowns with cotton candy. But this? This was far from a small-time event.
There was an actual carnival set up, with adult-sized rides and all. We hopped off the carts and Betty guided me in the direction of the bakeoff. Kids ran around me screaming and laughing, most of them with their faces painted. They were hopping from one ride to the next, from bumper cars to chair swings, and they even had one of those pirate ships that swung you up and down at obscene speeds.
A row of tents was set up at the edge of the field, and as we walked closer, I saw Ryzen was there already. So were the SNM triplets, Hewie, Cian, and a slew of Covington’s family members. In total, there were ten tents, and each tent had a color assigned to it. I walked up to Ryzen, who was wearing a pink apron and chef’s hat, and he tugged me close against his chest. His lips met mine, and for a moment, I relaxed into his arms.
“You’re late,” he whispered against my lips and pulled back.
OK. Magic spell broken.
I rubbed my forehead. Was he serious? “Technically, yes, but I came with the other women from the tea party.”
“Don’t make it a habit. We need to win this.” His voice was firm, as if scolding an employee. I mean, I guessed Iwaskind of like an employee. But I was confused why he was irritated when me being late was beyond my control. “Ryzen, I was with the tea party. I couldn’t just walk—”
His hand gripped my shoulder, and he squeezed slightly. He mouthed,Behind you,and plastered a huge smile on his face.
“Ryzen, pink looks good on you.” Covington came from behind me and chuckled. He slapped Ryzen on the back and turned his attention to me. “Nova, honey, I hope you enjoyed your time with the ladies this morning.”
“Oh, yes, it was lovely.” I pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, and Ryzen’s hand dropped from my shoulder. “I was just about to bake the winning dish of the night.” I grinned and turned my back to them as I tied the strings of my apron around my waist.
Be cool. You can’t react to every little thing. That’s how you get in trouble.
The sensation of being watched came over me and I glanced up, knowing full well who it was. Cian stood with his arms crossed over his chest only ten feet away. And he looked pissed.
Great. What now? Had someone peed in all the men’s cereal this morning? I stuck my tongue out at him and turned my attention back to Covington and Ryzen. I was in no mood to deal with cranky men. There was only one objective, and that was to win this contest.
“I like your confidence, young lady.” Covington howled with laughter. “We’ll see if you have what it takes to beat some of these fine Covington women.” He puffed his chest out and strolled toward Cian’s tent.
I bit the inside of my cheek and turned my full attention to Ryzen. “Let’s show that old cowboy what we’re made of.”
Chapter Ten
Penelope sabotaged our dessert.
We had decided on a coconut brookie—half-cookie, half-brownie. And even though at the beginning Ryzen had been kind of a dick, he quickly went back to being his sexy, cheerful self. By the time we were done baking, we were covered in coconut flakes and flour, and tears were rolling down our faces from laughing so hard. It was like being in our own personal bubble, where the others didn’t exist.
