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Lilah’s giggles behind me are the only thing I hear over my heartbeat as I lift the cake off the counter and move it onto the cart.
I don’t admit out loud that I let out the suffocating breath I was holding as I push the cake to the reception hall.
After getting it situated on the table in the corner, I smile to myself. Lilah reaches over, giving me a high five as we admire her work.
“You’re really fucking good at this shit, Princess,” I say, dropping my arm around her shoulder.
“Thanks, Ring.” She blushes.
I lead her back to the kitchen, and we find Sparrow already there, waiting for us.
“Well?” I ask.
“I may have told them to fuck off,” she admits. “This is going to be bad for business.”
“You just said last week that you’re getting sick of this shit anyways.”
“Yeah, you’re right. Let’s clean this shit up and get the hell out of here!” Sparrow exclaims excitedly. “I’msoready to have a margarita in my hand, dancing the night away!”
As long as it took to design the entire cake, Lilah and Sparrow get the kitchen cleaned up in no time. Lilah waves me out of the space to let them finish up. I lug the large totes back out to the van, and after shutting and securing the back doors, I fish out a much-needed cigarette from my back pocket.
Lilah and Sparrow find me leaning against the side of the van a while later, scrolling through my phone. I don’t know how the fuck to work much social media, but Ghost did download a few apps for me and showed me the basics. I’m laughing at a video of a son pranking his mom as the girls walk up.
Sliding her arms out of the heavy chef’s coat, Lilah lets out a relieved breath.
“Good to go?” I ask, slipping my phone back into my pocket.
“So ready,” she groans, rubbing her fingers along the back of her neck. I reach out to her, guiding her back to my front as I massage my thumbs into her neck. Her moans cause my dick to harden, and I force myself to think of old NASCAR stats to make it go back down.
“Alright, lovebirds, go back to your room to change, and meet me at my house at six!” Sparrow sing-songs as she skips towards her car.
I let out a chuckle at Lilah’s dreamy state as I continue to work my thumbs along the columns of her neck. I lean forward, kissing the top of her head. “Get in the car, sleepy girl. According to your friend, we have plans.”
“Ugh,” she groans. “I just want to nap.”
I chuckle again, holding the passenger side door open for her. “You can nap on the way to the hotel and then again on the way to Sparrow’s.”
“Promise?” she asks, her hazy eyes meeting mine.
I hold up my right hand in what I think is the scout’s honor sign and wink. Lilah lets out a loud giggle. Reaching forward, she lifts my ring finger so that only my pinky and thumb are down.
“If you’re going to pretend to be a scout, you at least have to do the sign right.”
I drop my hand and shrug. “I never claimed to be honorable.”
Her smile drops, and her eyes darken. “I hope not.”
With a smirk, I wink at her one more time before closing the door and rounding the van.
* * *
I feel like a million fucking bucks as we drive to Sparrow’s that evening. Right around this time two weeks ago, I was sitting in my cell and staring at the gray cement ceiling. Now, I’m in the driver's seat as one of the most important people in my entire life bobs along to the music on the radio. This is what freedom feels like.
Man, it fucking feels good.
When Lilah came out of the bathroom after getting ready, I had to forcefully scrape my jaw off the damn floor. She came out in what I can only describe as a lace lingerie top that disappeared under short-as-hell, frayed denim shorts.
Her glistening cleavage is off the fucking charts, and I’m physically unable to tear my eyes away as tiny specks of reflective glitter shine against her skin. The entire outfit is pure fucking sin, with so much fucking skin showing. There is a small bowtie holding the two triangles covering her nipples together, making me want to reach out and lick the bare skin from her belly all the way to her neck.
