“I’m so glad you’re okay,” Freya whispers, squeezing me.
“Me too.Me too.”
“Looks like some of the food is arriving,” Malia calls out.
I pull Freya over to the step, tugging her down with me.“God, I’m exhausted.”
“You did save a bunch of people from being blown-up,” she points out, then clears her throat, her gaze briefly flicking to the side.“Is there a reason Reid keeps staring at you?”
I inwardly laugh because there is no way he didn’t hear her ask me.He isn’t standing that far away.I lean in, whispering, but not doing it quietly.“He wants me to use my vibrator on him.He doesn’t understand how sacred the big bob is.”
Feigning shock, she sucks in a breath, placing a hand over her heart.“How dare he!”
I’m barely able to hold back my laughter.“He’s wearing a butt plug.It’s why he looks constipated.”
“You’ve had your fun,” he growls.“And if that’s what you need your friend to believe, keep going.”He turns to Freya, pouting.“I’m not ready to give up my virginity to her, so she’s asked if I will agree to get my dick moulded so she can have a vibrator specially made.”He grabs the railing, leaning in closer to whisper.“That’s the real reason she was there this morning.She wanted to know when I could fit in it.Don’t let the cat out of the bag.She likes playing the hero.”
I scoff.“I’m not a fan of butt plugs,” I retort, earning a snort from Freya.
Reid’s eyebrows draw together.I would take pity on him and explain, but Hayden beats me to it.“She’s saying a mould of your dick would be the size of a butt plug.”She glances at me, rolling her eyes.“Men.”
“Um, why is your dad driving Summer’s car?”Freya questions, shielding her eyes from the sun.
“Oh crap,” I whisper.
“Wait, why is my mum with him?”Hayden asks.“She’s supposed to be at the church with Charlotte.”
I don’t get the chance to explain because Max has the car stopped and is already tugging an annoyed Lake—who I met at a barbeque the Carters were hosting—out of the car.
“There she is,” he yells, pointing his finger at Malia.“Get her.”
“I am not a dog,” Lake snaps at her husband, pushing him away.
Malia freezes for a moment, taking in the slender woman, most likely wondering if she would really fight over a brownie for her husband.
The silent question is answered when Lake gives her a warm smile.“I hope you’re okay.I was told your family had quite the scare today.”
Max sucks in a sharp breath.“She stole my brownie and you’re asking ifsheis okay?”he argues.“Are you going to let her get away with it?”
Lake glares at her husband.“And, pray tell, where did you get this brownie?”
He rubs the back of his neck.“From the kitchen.”
“Whose kitchen, Max?”she asks, placing her hands on her hips.
“Does it matter?She stole my food,” he argues.“Tell her to replace it.I know she has a chocolate fudge cake in there.That will do.”
Lake shakes her head, but it’s not the shake someone gives when they can’t believe something.It’s more like a shake of her head that says, I love him, I do, but give me strength.
She digs into her bag and pulls out a plastic container that is filled with either brownies or chocolate cake.“Will this do?I picked it up from the church bake sale.”
“They had a bake sale?”he asks, snatching the container, looking like a man who has just been betrayed.
“I did ask you to volunteer,” she points out.
“You said it was organising donations.You didn’t mention anything about a bake sale.”
“Because I wanted you to continue to help for your grandparents, not because there’s food involved.”
