“Such an asshole.”
“Admit it—that’s why your wildly attracted to me, isn’t it?”
I close the door, run the water and hop in, though it’s barely heated up yet. I could do with a cold, harsh dose of reality. I wash my body as quickly as I can without ruining my makeup and then I turn and see Leo standing outside the shower stall.
“Oh my God.” I shut off the water, and attempt to cover my body from view. “You’re such a creeper.”
“Guilty,” he says, holding my towel out to me. I snatch it off him and cover myself, but it’s not nearly protection enough. “Got your dress.”
“Great, now get out.”
“Fucking cock tease.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault you went all Psycho on me and stood outside the shower to watch. Should I be worried about that bulge in your pants?”
“Oh, it’s definitely not a knife. More like a sword, a broadsword. Of the meat variety.”
“You’re sick.”
“And you’re fucking sexy as hell.” He takes a step toward me, but I raise my hand in a warding gesture. I can’t remove the other one because it’s the only thing keeping my towel in place.
“We need to fix this.”
“Can we do it after we fuck?”
“Can you just leave so I can get dressed?”
“You don’t need me to unzip you?” He shakes his head. “I mean, zip you up?”
“Oh, yeah, actually I do. Turn around.”
He rolls his eyes and gives me his back. “You know I just saw everything two seconds ago, right?” When I don’t respond, he adds, “So how exactly do we fix this? It’s not like there’s going to be another cake lying around, and the one you smashed isn’t going to get fixed any time soon.”
“Well, if someone hadn’t tried to rape my mouth, we might not be in this predicament.”
“It’s not rape if it’s consensual, Poppy.”
“You didn’t know it was consensual.”
“Yeah, I did. You were giving fuck-me eyes long before I put my mouth on yours, and I believe it was you who shoved your tongue in my mouth first.”
“Um, no, it wasn’t,” I protest. Leo turns around, probably hoping to get another eyeful, but he’s out of luck. He frowns, confirming what I suspected. “Can you do—”
“Can I do you? Yes,” he mutters. “All fucking night, and like you’ve never been done before.”
I ignore the shiver that runs the length of my spine. “Just do me up please.”
“God, you’re such a fucking killjoy. I’m beginning to see why you’re single.”
His gaze rolls over me, taking in my sheer Ellie Saab gown with a low whistle. “Jesus, Pop Tart, you could kill a man with a dress like that. All the blood in my body just travelled straight to my dick.”
My gaze dips to the appendage in question. I gulp. “So, um ... we should—”
“Fuck?”
“Go ... we should go.”
He chuckles and heads for the door, pulling it open for me. “Ladies first. Though, you might want to walk on ahead of me. I’d hate for you to feel my broadsword pressing into your back.”
I roll my eyes and slip into my heels before stepping out into the balmy heat. “You’re not that big, Leo.”
“Hey, he’s a grower, not a shower. Like Pinocchio.”
“Oh, so he only gets long and hard when you lie?”
He cringes. “Okay, that was a shitty analogy. I’ll admit it.”
I laugh. “It really was, but you’re forgiven on account of all the blood rushing to your penis and making you stupider than you were before.”
“Stupider? Ouch, Pop Tart. You really know how to hit a man when he’s down. Say, speaking of being on your knees, you wanna try and alleviate our little problem?”
“Our problem? I fail to see how this is our problem.”
“Trust me, you in this dress makes it our problem. You know you’re not wearing any underwear, right?”
“I can’t wear underwear with a dress like this. I’d have a visible panty line.”
He tilts his head to the side to check out my ass. “Right now, you have visible everything, and I’m having a hard time controlling my visible boner.”
“Oh my God, you’re like a small child.”
“A small child with a boner? Something about that sounds pedophilic.”
“Can we just focus on finding a way to fix the damn cake?”
Leo’s quiet for once, and I hope like hell it’s because he’s dialing the Maldives version of Uber Eats and ordering us a new cake. “Okay, I know you’re some kind of cake freak who bought her apartment only because it’s in prime location to Magnolia Bakery, but seriously, it’s not like back home. We’re not in Kansas anymore, Toto. A house is not just going to fall out of the sky and land on the bitchy bridezilla.”
I stop dead, and turn to face him. “Leo, you’re a genius.”
“I am?” He glances suspiciously at me. “I mean ... I am, but what specifically are we celebrating my genius over? Because I’m pretty sure murdering the woman who stole your ex-fiancé at her wedding is still illegal in the Maldives.”
“I’m not going to kill Claire, and there may not be a Magnolia Bakery here, but it is the number-one destination for wedding-cations.”
“Wedding what?”
“Come on. Just follow my lead.” I grab his hand. I’m not sure why, but I don’t let go as I lead him toward the hotel.
When me make it to the reception, Katherine accosts us. “Where the hell have you been? Jacinta said you were supposed to fix this mess and suddenly you disappear to what? Have sex with Thor here?”
Leo laughs. “Thor? That’s a first. I do have a heavy magical hammer though, so ... I guess it’s not too much of a stretch.”
“I have a plan,” I tell Katherine.
“Then you better start talking. I have wedding guests complaining about not being able to leave the room via the main exit.”
“I need you to stall.”
“What?”
“Please, just half an hour.”
She shakes her head and folds her arms across her chest. “You better fix this, Poppy. I am not going down for your mistake, and if I don’t make partner it’s all on you.”
If she doesn’t make partner it will likely be because she isn’t as good at this job as I am, but I don’t say that because I can’t afford to draw any more attention to us and we’re almost out of time.
“I accept full responsibility for ruining the cake,” I say. I can’t help but notice that Leo raises his brows skyward and I want so badly to punch the big lug in the face, but I refrain because I’m going to need my hands if this goes according to plan. “Now please, will you just go?”
“Fine, but you owe me.”
“Absolutely.” I gently nudge her in the direction of the ballroom.
“Come on,” I say to Leo once she’s gone. “I might need you to punch someone for me.”
“What?”
I don’t bother answering. He’ll find out soon enough.
I stalk toward the hotel reception. The man operating the desk is young, probably no older than twenty-five, and he watches me with his mouth hanging open as I stride toward him. This dress has that effect on most men. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t bring it for that very reason.
“Hi,” I say in my sexiest tone of voice. I glance down at the man’s name tag. “Tigre—wow that’s a great name. Are you from the island?”
“I’m from Boston, ma’am.”
“Oh, go Cubs.”
“That’s Chicago.”
“Right.” I give him a sheepish smile. His eyes roam my chest. Nass the Ass clears his throat behind me. “So, I’m one of the planners for the wedding taking place in the great hall, and I need to fetch something from the kitchen. Would you be a doll and tell me where I might find it?”
“I can have something brought out for you if you need, ma’am?”
“Oh, no. That’s oka
y. I’m looking for something very specific. One of the cake toppers took a tumble and he’s probably back in the fridge. It won’t take me long to find it.”
“Well, normally we don’t allow guests to wander the kitchen.”
“Please? It’s an emergency.”
“Her ass is gonna get fired if she doesn’t go. Isn’t that right, baby?” Leo makes a show of grabbing said ass and squeezing. I smile, resisting the urge to turn and sock him one in the nose.
“That’s true,” I say, moving away from his grasp, but he pulls me back against him and wraps his arms around my waist as he nuzzles my neck. My skin turns to gooseflesh and my nipples poke out through the thin lace of my dress. Tigre notices too, it seems. So I take the opportunity to finally get what I came for. “The kitchen?”
“Uh, it’s down the hall. Turn left at the bank of elevators, you can’t miss it.”
“Thank you so much,” I purr, feeling the first strains of guilt because I hope that he doesn’t get fired. As soon as we’re down the corridor and out of sight, I turn on Leo. “What the hell was that?”
“Just playing my part. Although, was I supposed to punch him? I couldn’t tell with your mixed signals.”
“Mixed signals?”
“Yeah. What was with the lowered voice? Were you afraid your parents might hear you?”
“I was flirting with him.”
He screws up his nose. “That was you flirting? You’re terrible at it.”
“Well, you weren’t helping, grabbing my ass and making me ...” Woah, there lassie. It’s not like you can tell him he turned you on with that wicked mouth of his. “You practically assaulted me in front of him.”
He shrugs. “I thought we were trying to make him jealous.”
“Why? The point was to get into the kitchen, not have us locked up for indecent exposure.”
“I think you might still be at risk of that.” Leo’s gaze slides down to my nipples that are poking at my dress. I cover my chest with my arms folded across it. He laughs, and I stalk off toward the kitchen.
“So, what exactly is our plan here?”
“We’re going to steal a wedding cake.”
Leo stops in his tracks. “What?”
“There’s a wedding here in two days. No one in their right mind would wait this long to have their cake brought across from the main island in case of bad weather.”
“And that means?”
“That there will most definitely be another cake in that kitchen. Likely in the cooler, but we can work with that.”
He searches my gaze. “We’re really going to do this?”
“What part of ‘my job is on the line’ did you not understand, Leo?”
“But what about the other couple?”
I stare in disbelief. “Oh, now you grow a conscience?”
He shrugs. “Well you’re the one who was banging on about how important the cake is.”
“And that’s exactly why we have to fix this mess.”
“Right.” While Leo is looking at me as if I’ve just lost my damn mind, the door to our left swings open and a tiny Maldivian man exits the kitchen. He gives us a surprised look and hurries on his way. He’s about half the size of Leo—on a good day—but he’ll have to do. I glance at Leo. He stares blankly back. I widen my eyes and nod in the man’s direction as he walks down the corridor. Leo gives me that slack-jawed stupid face, and I gesture wildly to the man and then make like I’m slicing my throat.
“Are you crazy? I’m not murdering a man over cake,” he hisses.
“Not murder him, just ... you know, steal his clothes. Put the sleeper on or something.” I wave my hand.
“Put the sleeper on? What am I, James Bond?”
“You wish. I’m sorry but in what universe could Nass the Ass be James Bond?”
His brow furrows. “That’s what you call me? Nass the Ass?”
“Can you just do something, please? He’s getting away.”
“What the hell am I supposed to do?” He holds up his hands. “We’re in a busy hotel.”
“Oh my God, do I have to do everything myself?”
“When it comes to killing a man over a cake, then yeah, you’re on your own.”
I stalk down the hall at a clipped pace. The man from the kitchen is almost at the end of the corridor, but thankfully he appears to be texting on his phone. He stops, his head bent low, and I pounce, jumping on his back like a monkey and wrapping my arms around his neck.
“Jesus Christ,” Leo curses from behind me, but I don’t have any breath to respond because I’m busy fighting with the tiny Asian man who probably knows karate now that I think about it. Leo yanks me off him and puts the man in a chokehold, pulling him back down the corridor as the man struggles in his grasp, his face turning beet red. “Get the door.”
“What door?”
“Any door, Poppy. Any fucking door.”
I push against the door closest to me. It’s a small supply closet. The tiny chef is no longer struggling, but has gone lax in Leo’s arms.
Leo lays him down on the ground, gently. “What the hell were you thinking?”
“Um, hello? ‘Ruined wedding cake’ ringing any bells?”
“So you thought you’d jump on some poor, unsuspecting bastard on his break, and what? Demand he take us to the kitchen when he wakes?”
“No, dumbass.” I fold my arms across my chest. “We’re stealing his clothes.”
“You are out of your goddamned mind.” Leo leans forward, getting in my face. I get all up in his right back.
“Maybe, but I’m a desperate woman.”
“Does getting this promotion mean that much to you?”
“It’s not just the promotion. I’m going to lose my apartment if I don’t get it.”
“What?” He straightens.
I let out a huge puff of air. My shoulders sag in defeat. “I’m broke, Leo.”
“Then ask your parents for money, like everyone else in Manhattan.”
“No. I’m not doing that. They already think I’m flushing my education down the toilet. I will not give them the satisfaction.”
“But you’ll risk going to jail for a cake?” He scrubs a hand over his face. “Look, there are better ways to go about this. I’ll give you the money. Or you can move in with me and Jas.”
I just glare at him. He nods, as if accepting that as the worse idea he’s ever had. “Are you going to help me with this or not?”
Leo sighs and gives me a resigned smile. “Alright, my little evil mastermind, we’ve come this far. What exactly are we going to do now?”
“Strip him.”
“You’re kidding, right?”
“No. I’m sure as hell not taking off a complete stranger’s clothing,” I say, matter-of-fact. “You do it all the time. It should be easy for you.”
He narrows his eyes. “First of all, I undress strange women all the time, not men, and I’m a little insulted by that, Pop Tart.”
“Yes, well, the truth hurts.” I gesture to the man. “You’re wasting time, and he isn’t going to strip himself.”
Leo scowls and mutters something under his breath that I don’t quite catch, though I’m pretty sure it was close to ‘her pussy better be made of fucking unicorns and rainbows for all this shit’. I decide to ignore that comment, because my pussy is made of unicorns and rainbows, and he’ll only get a closer look at the majesty of my lady bits if he can make it through a whole evening without being a total jerk.
When Leo finally has the man’s pants and jacket off, he looks to me for what I assume is further direction. “You need to put them on.”
“Me?” He shakes his head. “Oh, no. I’m not wearing some strange dude’s clothes; besides, they won’t fit me. They’d fit you. Haven’t you always wanted to get into a chef’s pants?”
I wrinkle my nose in disgust. “I’m not wearing a strange man’s pants.”
“Well, neither am I, so it looks like we kidnapped and knocked out this nice gent
leman for no reason.”
“Please, Leo?” I give him my best puppy-dog eyes. He screws up his face, and I’m not sure if that means he’s succumbing to my cuteness, or if he’s repelled because I look like a Muppet. Either way, I keep begging. “Pleeeeeeease?”
He exhales loudly. “You owe me.”
“Okay, sure.”
“No, I’m serious. You’re gonna owe me big time.”
I cringe. “Like how big ... exactly?”
“Ben-Hur kind of big.” His eyes smolder as he takes a step toward me.
I place a hand on his chest, halting him from coming any closer. “Ben-Hur?”
“Another shot at that kiss. One where you don’t pull away, and we see what happens.”
“What?” I shake my head and back up, but the room is only so big, and the space between us isn’t far enough. “No. No way.”
“Then no cake, which also means no pro—”
“Fine. One more kiss, but not until we pull this off.”
“Done,” he says, unfastening his belt and the button of his suit pants. I watch on, mesmerized. Leo raises a brow at me and gives a half-smile. “Not gonna lie, Pop Tart, if you’re going to stand there and watch me undress, I might be taking that kiss sooner than you planned.”
I avert my gaze, then I cover my eyes with my hand just to ensure I don’t accidentally peek.
“I can’t wear this,” Leo says. “I look ridiculous.”
I remove my hand from my face. Leo looks like one of the Lost Boys who grew out of his clothes too quickly. His chest appears to be restricted by the jacket that was loose on our Maldivian friend, and it looks as if he’s been poured into the pants. There isn’t enough fabric to cover his calves. I press my lips together to keep my laughter at bay, but it bursts free anyway.
“Right, deal’s off.”
“No,” I gasp, attempting to rein in my laughter. “I’m sorry. I’m—” I lose it again. Leo is not impressed. He glares at me as I wipe the tears away from my face. “I’m good.”
“I can’t go in there like this.”
“Of course you can, and we probably only have a few minutes left before he wakes up, so let’s get to it.”
“Goddamn, woman. Are you this demanding in bed?”
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