The Spy Ring (Cake Love Book 4)

by Elizabeth Lynx

  Henrik stood and began to chuckle. “When did this happen?”

  Folding my arms, I walked toward the kitchen. “I would tell you, but then I’d have to kill you.”

  I heard laughter behind me as I began to wipe down the kitchen counter with a rag by the sink.

  “I don’t think Morgana would be happy with a dead fiancé,” Henrik said.

  Turning to glare at him, I put my hand on my hip. “She may not like it, but I’m sure she’d understand.”

  At that moment, the intercom buzzer went off. Creasing my brow, I pointed to Henrik. “Did you order food?”

  “No,” he said, and we both glanced at my son who was shaking his head.

  I went over and pushed the answer button. “Hello?”

  As clear as day, I heard a familiar voice. “Hey, Tiffany. It’s me, Evaleen. Can I come up?”

  I answered her with a push of the open button. Perhaps the police visit today spooked my landlord into finally fixing the intercom.

  “Did you invite Evaleen over?” I asked Henrik as the two were finally on speaking terms.

  “No.” Henrik shook his head.

  It wasn’t long before we heard a knock at the door. I glanced through the peephole to see Evaleen standing there.

  “Hey. What are you doing here?” I asked after I opened the door.

  Evaleen’s blond hair was back in a long braid. She usually wore her hair up in a restrictive bun, and the braided look softened her. She had on jeans and an oversized gray T-shirt that bunched at the sides.

  She peered over my shoulder and frowned. “Crap. What’s Payne doing here?”

  “Henrik is here to take David to the baseball game. They should be leaving soon if you need to speak with me in private.”

  “Nice to see you too, Evaleen,” Henrik shouted from behind.

  She groaned. “Okay, if this is going to happen then I need to tell you both something before I even step into your apartment.”

  “You can tell me anything, Evaleen,” I said and stepped closer but she held up her hands to stop me.

  “Stay right there. After I tell you there will be no hugging, we all agree to stay exactly where we are,” she said and then leaned to the side to glare at Henrik.

  “Yes, if that’s what you want.” I was worried. Evaleen was a tough woman, and she never acted strangely like this. I hoped nothing was wrong with her or her mother.

  “I promise,” Henrik yelled.

  She took a deep breath and glanced to her side before lifting her eyes to me. “I’m pregnant.”

  “Aaaah! I’m so happy for you.” I jumped up and down and began to move toward her to give a big hug.

  “Stop. You promised not to move,” she said holding up her hand.

  I nodded. “Yes, of course. Sorry, I forgot.”

  Despite her serious expression, I had a huge smile on my face. No wonder she was acting strangely. I’ve heard that sometimes pregnant women can become overly sensitive to sound or smell and even touch. That’s probably why she doesn’t want us near her.

  I remember when I was pregnant with David becoming nauseous every time I heard a Beatles song. And I normally loved listening to the Beatles.

  “Congratulations, Evaleen! Is Edgar pooping his pants.” Henrik laughed and I heard my son giggle too.

  “No, he isn’t shit—” Evaleen started to speak before I cut her off.

  “Language,” I said in a straight tone.

  “I mean, pooping himself. He couldn’t be happier.” Evaleen narrowed her eyes at Henrik. “Anyway, there’s a reason I am telling you this now instead of a week from now when I planned to announce it to everyone.”

  I noticed she twisted her fingers together as if she was gathering strength. Perhaps she felt nauseous. I wish she would come inside so I could have her sit and rest.

  “I brought someone with me. Someone who needs to explain something to you, Tiffany. There was a misunderstanding but when you see this person, you will not react well. So, I am here to moderate, to make sure you listen,” Evaleen said.

  I was about to ask her to clarify as I was confused to what she was referring to when my ears burned and my hands had the sudden urge to wrap around a neck.

  “Jagger. You came.” I heard David behind me as he saw Evaleen pull Jagger next to her. He must have been standing on the other side of the wall this whole time.

  He took advantage of me and now he was using my friend!

  “You dingleberry!” I said as I reached for Evaleen to pull her away.

  Evaleen held up her hands. “I would advise both of you not to push, pull, or jostle me in any manner. As I mentioned, I’m pregnant.”

  She stood in front of Jagger like a shield.

  Henrik moved next to me. “You son of a bitch—”

  “Language, Henrik,” I said.

  He groaned. “David, go to your room.”

  “What? But—” David said.

  “Just go, David. Henrik will take you soon.” I turned and went over to my son, helping him up from the sofa. He walked slowly, reluctantly, toward his room.

  Once we heard the door close from the hallway, Henrik let it all out. “You fucking piece of shit. Once Evaleen moves and your coward ass is unprotected, I’m going to make sure you won’t be able to walk out of here. You like pretending to be a physical therapist? Why don’t I make it so you have to be surrounded by them for the rest of your life.”

  “I’m not a thief, I promise,” Jagger said, holding up his hands.

  “Is that what you told Evaleen? What lie did you feed her so she would protect you?” I asked and hated that my body was heating with a mix anger and attraction. The anger part felt normal, given what Jagger had done, but the attraction. That part needed to leave and never come back, much like the man standing in my building hallway.

  “Nothing. I told her the truth. That I’m a government agent and I came here last week to get Tiffany to sign some documents,” Jagger said as he pulled some papers from his back pocket.

  “Right. Sure. I’m just supposed to believe you work for the government.” I folded my arms forcing my eyes to stay on his and not slide down his body.

  He pulled out a black leather wallet. Flipping it open, he produced an ID card with his picture.

  “How am I supposed to know that isn’t fake?” Henrik asked.

  Jagger pushed it toward Henrik. “Here, take it. Go call it in. You can look up the department of defense website and there should be a phone number. They won’t acknowledge my name, but the verification code changes daily. Today it’s blue. Agents use it to check in. My boss knows I’m here, so if I call from here to check in, it will be accepted.”

  Henrik took the badge and picked up my cell phone that was on the kitchen counter. He took a minute looking up the DOD’s website and number before finally calling it.

  “Blue,” Henrik said.

  I watched as his eyes widened and he removed the phone, handing it to Jagger.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’ll have the report on Monday,” Jagger said before he tapped on the phone and handed it back to Henrik.

  We stared at Jagger. Evaleen moved from in front of him.

  “It looks like my work here is done,” she said and turned to Jagger. “We are even now.”

  As she started to make her way toward the elevator, Jagger shouted, “Monday, first thing.”

  “As promised,” Evaleen yelled back.

  Jagger laughed and turned back to face Henrik. “Can I have my ID back?”

  Henrik blinked before realizing what Jagger was asking for. “Right. Of course.” He gave Jagger back the wallet containing his identification.

  We stood in silence and I realized we were all still standing in the doorway.

  “Why don’t you come inside.” Henrik and I moved aside to let Jagger through.

  I directed him to the couch. Henrik stumbled back toward the bedrooms down the hall. “I’m going to get David now. Take him to dinner so you two can discuss whatever you
need to.”

  He was about to turn but stopped. “Excuse me, Jagger, but since I know the verification code is blue, what’s to stop me from getting information from the government with that code?”

  Jagger sat back and smiled, his arm lazily dripping over the back of the couch. “You could try but that code, once used, is no longer relevant. Each agent gets a unique code daily. If you did try to use it, you would discover federal agents showing up at your door within minutes. I’m sure they wouldn’t detain you that long. You might make it out in time for your wedding.”

  “My wedding isn’t for another month.”

  “I know,” Jagger said.

  Henrik’s eyes widened and the usual stoic man shrunk back and scurried down the hall.

  “Agent Jagger. Why would you need me to sign papers?” I asked as I sat on the other end of my sofa.

  EIGHT

  Jagger

  “You’re my husband?” Tiffany’s voice rose with every syllable.

  Before Henrik and David left a few minutes ago, I apologized to David for pretending to be his physical therapist. He was disheartened but more so that I wouldn’t be there to teach him ninja moves. His disappointment only intensified my own. It was fun last week showing him moves I had learned over the years. Not only that, but my heart beat with a new challenge. I was invigorated when I left our session. Something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

  The rush I used to get at the climax of a large operation like bringing down a criminal organization or capturing a terrorist was better than any drug. Over the years I felt less and less satisfied, as if it wasn’t enough.

  I was happy to keep this country safe, but growing increasingly unfulfilled with what I did for a living. Or was it what my job did to me?

  “Technically, yes,” I said and pushed the wrinkled divorce papers toward her on the coffee table.

  She didn’t reach for them. Tiffany only stared at me.

  “Then we met before. When?”

  “In Las Vegas. In the hotel bar where you were staying. I bought you a drink. Then came over to talk to you and Morgana.”

  The sun was still high in the sky as it was mid-summer and the light reflected off her dark hair, turning some pieces golden. Tiffany was beautiful. As foolish as it was to marry her, I couldn’t blame my drunken self for so easily falling for her sweet charm and succulent lips.

  Thoughts of how she tasted dotted my memories causing my tongue to reach for them. Tiffany was saying something but flickers of her naked body as she raced through the hotel room hiding her clothes kept blocking out her words.

  “What?” I realized too late that Tiffany expected me to respond.

  “I said, neither Morgana nor I remember that night. You were there last night. She doesn’t remember you.” She tilted her head, concern etched in her features.

  “Okay.”

  “Okay?” Her chocolate eyes widened as she pushed to the edge of the couch, gripping the seat cushion. “Did you do that on purpose? Drug us so we wouldn’t remember you?”

  I sat up straight. “No, of course not. I was only observing you. Well, I was supposed to only observe you but it ended up being more than that.”

  Her nose flared, causing a slight indent in her chin. The blush that filled her face produced a question in my head that I would never give voice to—is that what she would look like if I climbed her body and sunk inside?

  “Then how can neither of us remember you?” Tiffany asked after she took a breath, grabbing her braid and tossing it over her shoulder.

  “Weren’t you two drinking before I came over?”

  “No. The drink you bought me was the first one I had that night. And it wasn’t like I had an empty stomach. Morgana and I went to the buffet for dinner. I remember because we were going to go straight to the bar after but I told her I needed to check on Evaleen, who wasn’t feeling well at the time . . . Wait, I can’t believe I didn’t figure that out.” Tiffany smiled as she shook her head.

  “Figure what out?”

  “That Evaleen was pregnant. Of course, now I know because she just told me. That’s why she was sick in Vegas. I thought she had the flu. And Aria knew!” She smacked her hand on the table. “That’s why Aria told me when I was concerned I would catch whatever illness Evaleen had, that I already had it. But why would Evaleen tell Aria and not anyone else?”

  I threw my hands in the air. “What are you even talking about? We started on how you and Morgana couldn’t remember me and ended up discussing Aria’s feelings on Evaleen’s pregnancy.”

  “Not her feelings, but how she knew.” Tiffany pursed her lips.

  “Whatever. Can we get back on topic?”

  “Yes, what were we talking about?”

  Taking a calming breath, I was thankful to be divorcing this woman. She may be beautiful and kind and—despite my reservations with her not letting her son do more—a good mother. But, I had a feeling if I spent any time with her I would end up going mad. I had even more respect for David now, having lived with this woman.

  “About both you and Morgana not remembering me,” I said before rubbing my hands in irritation across my face.

  “Right. I’m going to get something. Would you like some tea or candy?” She stood up and walked past the couch and into the kitchen.

  I watched her from over my shoulder but turned completely around in amazement at what was in the cabinet.

  “Wow, that’s a lot of candy. I guess your son likes the sweet stuff.” I stood, moving to the other side of the beige, granite island that separated the living room from the kitchen.

  “Actually, most of this is mine. I have a bit of a sweet tooth. Especially when it comes to hard candy.”

  “Did you buy out the candy aisle at the Jewel Osco?” I gazed in wonder as all four shelves were overflowing with various bags of candy. The two upper shelves had boxes of the stuff. She must have bought them online because I don’t think they sell bags of candy by the box at the grocery store.

  “I have a subscription.” Tiffany frowned. “It’s called Candy Gram and I have the VIP subscription.”

  “No wonder you stripped,” I said without thinking of the consequences of my words.

  She dropped the green lollipop that was in her hand with a small thwack. Her face had lost all its color.

  “I was a stripper in Las Vegas? Oh no. I must have been drugged. You have to believe me, I would never have done that otherwise.”

  I came over and put my hands on her shoulders. “No, that came out wrong. You didn’t become a stripper. It was something that happened in the hotel room. You kept saying you needed a wedding ring and only a candy ring would do. I thought it strange but figured you had too much to drink.”

  Due to her surprise and horror at thinking she stripped in front of strangers, I felt it best to leave out the part where she did strip for me.

  “Oh, thank goodness.” Her head fell into her hand.

  My thumbs rubbed circles around her shoulders to give her relief but I felt she might need more so I pulled her into an embrace. Tiffany melted into me as my arms circled her back. She was warm, soft, and it seemed right.

  She felt amazing.

  And her hair—it was soft and smelled as sweet as that lollipop. It was only natural when my hands slipped lower. Moving without thought or hesitation to the part of her back that dipped and then curved just before it separated into two plump cheeks. I shuddered with every twist of her body.

  Tiffany pushed back. “What are you doing?”

  “I’m sorry. I got, uh, carried away.”

  Leaning against the counter, I shoved my hands into my pockets to disguise the growing bulge in my jeans.

  An awkwardness fell over the room like something sticky and thoroughly unwanted. She didn’t step away but her head turned in every direction that didn’t include me.

  “You had sex with me,” she whispered. Her hands clasped in front of her and for a moment she was too delicate to touch. As if a brush of my fing
er across Tiffany’s shoulder would shatter her completely.

  “No, we didn’t. I would never have done that with someone who was drunk,” I said.

  That was a fact. I wanted to have sex with her. But as inebriated as I was, I had enough sense to keep her safe.

  Her eyes peered up at me, wide but still uncertain. “But I woke up naked? In your hotel room. Wait. Was that your hotel room?”

  Tiffany was shrinking again.

  “Yes, that was my hotel room. I was in the shower when you left.” I paused and gathered the courage to explain what happened. “Maybe I will take that tea.”

  My smile was weak but she nodded. I walked back to the living room and sat on the couch. In a few minutes, she came over placing a dark blue mug with a red crab on it that said, Got Crabs, in front of me on the coffee table.

  “Here’s some cream and sugar if you take that.” She sat on the other end of the couch and waved at the small white porcelain container of creamer, shaped like a pitcher, and a bowl holding loose sugar.

  I took a sip of the bitter tea and decided to drink it straight.

  “You were naked because you insisted on taking off all your clothes,” I said and took a second to gauge her reaction.

  She had one leg folded, resting on the couch, while the other leg dangled over the edge. Her eyes weren’t looking at me, but at something in the distance.

  “I know it doesn’t sound believable but it’s true. I would never take advantage of someone while they were drunk. Even if you didn’t have anything to drink before we met, you did afterward. At one point, I told the bartender to stop giving you anything.”

  I chuckled and placed the mug on the table. “That’s when you got mad at me. You and Morgana stormed out of the hotel and I followed you to make sure you two were safe. We all walked for a while. That’s when you proposed to me. You told me you needed someone to help take care of your family.”

  “I proposed to you? Oh no.” Tiffany put her hand over her eyes, shaking her head.

  “Yes, and being drunk myself, I accepted. We found a church and I decided to use my father’s ring.” I pulled the long gold chain from around my neck that hid under my shirt. Dangling at the end was a thick gold ring. “He passed away a few years ago and left me this ring. I always have it on me so that’s what I used.”