by Alexa Blue
“I’m fine, love. But you’re not allowed here today. I’m sorry to do this to you, but you will need to leave now." Uncle Sam closes the door on me and waves at me from inside his shop. “See you soon!”
He turns the lock on the door and walks back. I stare at him through the glass door, wondering what in the hell is going on right now. There’s even a sign outside the door that says, ‘Sorry, we're closed.' For as long as I've known Uncle Sam, the shop has been open every day of the year. Come rain, sunshine, or snow, his bakery is the one shop you can count on being open.
Uncle Sam is not the only one that has been acting strange. My mom phoned me and told me she loved me and how proud she was of me and that she ‘approves.’ When I asked her what she’s ‘approving’ of, she hung up the phone. If that call happened two weeks back, I would have been more concerned, but our relationship has surprisingly improved since our little heart to heart. I suppose this is what my mom’s like when she’s being all nice and supportive.
I brushed that off, but then my dad phoned me. I couldn't understand a word he was saying because he was in tears, and his voice was barely incoherent.
Next, Carter has been incredibly secretive over these last few days. He carries this massive grin, and when I ask him what it's about, he quickly changes the subject.
If that isn’t bad enough, my best friend Lana giggled like a helpless teenager when I tried calling her yesterday. I phoned her to ask her if she knew why everyone's acting so strange, and the only response I received was helpless chuckles.
Seriously. What the fuck is going on? At this point, I’m starting to think the air may be polluted with laughing gas or some shit I have yet to inhale.
After being rejected by Uncle Sam, I walk back to my car when the vibrating phone inside my pocket catches my attention.
It’s Carter.
“Hey, babe. Okay, this is becoming too much. Please, for God's sake, tell me what’s going on?”
There’s a brief silence on the other end of the line, followed by what I swear is him laughing in the background. I swear if I hear one more person laughing at me, I'm going to lose my shit. “Nothing’s going on. Why would you think anything’s happening?”
I let out a defeated sigh. “Because everyone has been acting super weird. And… and why are you laughing?”
Carter now breaks into gut-wrenching laughter.
Seriously, what the fuck is so funny?
“Ha ha ha, I’m not laughing.” He takes a few moments to gather his breath. “Anyway. I’ll meet you at Uncle Sam’s tonight? Let’s say at six?”
“Uncle Sam? The bakery's closed. Besides, I stopped there earlier today, and he refused to let me in.”
“Six, Uncle Sam. Be there,” Carter says. “Love you!” He cuts the call, and I'm left staring blankly at my phone.
Giving up on the idea of trying to convince Carter to let me in on what he’s planning, I get dressed and make my way to Uncle Sam’s.
I'm wearing a yellow skirt that hugs my curves and reveals my legs, with a black crop top that shows off my breasts. Carter has always insisted it’s his favorite. Since he refuses to let me in on what’s happening, I figured I might as well look my best.
I drive up into the parking lot and instantly spot my father’s Mazda parked out front. Carter’s Nissan Z is parked right next to it.
I take in a sharp breath and straighten out my dress as I step out of my car. Mentally, I’ve already been preparing myself for the worst all day.
Uncle Sam's bakery is dimly lit, and I am quickly greeted by my best friend. Lana opens the door, stepping out of the store, wearing a sexy little red number.
"Thank God," I say, letting out a sigh of relief. "Please, would you tell me what the hell is going on?"
She grabs hold of my hand and pulls me into the bakery. Walking behind her, I almost stumble and fall at the sight of Uncle Sam's bakery.
I have never seen the place like this. It looks like a scene straight out of a romantic comedy. The room is dimly lit, with the people closest to me holding a tealight candle in their hand. Standing in a row is Lana, my dad, my mom, and Uncle Sam in that order. They each hold a rose in one hand and a candle in the other.
I have close to a million followers on my social media accounts. Still, I have never felt this noticed, with all their eyes on me. My mom looks as if she’s seconds away from breaking into tears.
"Oh, my God. Guys, what’s happeni—”
Lana cuts me off and pulls me in to her. I stumble on my feet, struggling to hold my balance when she speaks, "Britney Darcy. Will you marry me?”
I almost choke from laughter. “Sorry, babe. I don’t do girls.”
Lana holds her grin as she steps back and blows out her candle.
I take a step forward, and my dad asks me the same.
"Sorry, Dad. I’m pretty sure that’s illegal in our state.”
He too takes a step back and blows out his candle. My mom and Uncle Sam ask me the same and blow out their candles when I decline them as well. As soon as Uncle Sam kills his fire, the shop is suddenly covered in a cloud of darkness.
Sounds of a piano catch my attention. I tilt my head in the darkness towards the sound of Someone like you by Adele blasting through the bakery’s speakers. Suddenly, a row of candles light up, illuminating a path that ends at the door leading into the backroom. I push the door open to find Carter down on one knee, holding out a box in his hands. All around him is easily a hundred tealight candles. The fire all around him dances in his deep gray eyes.
“Oh my, God.” I drown out my scream into my hands. I knew he was up to something, but this was not what I had in mind. When he first got down on one knee when he cooked that romantic supper for me, I was convinced he was going to propose then, but he has gone all out for this evening. This is more than I could have imagined in my wildest dreams.
I turn back and take a final glance at those closest to me. They all smile back at me. My dad even pulls my mom into him, and for the first time, I feel like they are both incredibly proud of me.
"Britney, from the moment I laid eyes on you, I knew you were the one," Carter says. His voice is shaky, but it’s so fucking cute. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him nervous.
I take a few more steps forward until I'm inches away from Carter. He gazes intensely into my eyes and continues, "I have brought everyone close to you here today, not only because I needed to beg for their approval—and believe me, that was not easy—but I also wanted them to witness the most important moment of my life. Britney Darcy, you have filled me with a happiness I never thought was possible. Will you make me even happier and agree to be my wife?”
I fight back the tears. I could not have asked for a more perfect moment than this. This is the stuff girls dream about, and I get to live out this fantasy.
"Yes… Yes!" I search for more words to say, but at this moment, a simple yes is all I can mutter.
Carter's face lights up, and he grabs hold of my left hand, plants a kiss on the back, and slips the largest diamond ring I have ever seen onto my finger.
He stands to his feet and seals the deal with a massive kiss. The entire room breaks into a round of applause.
Uncle Sam flicks on the light switch. “Supper is served,” he says to everyone and takes a gracious bow.
He’s pushed two tables together to cater for us all, and on the table is laid out a spread of all my favorite goodies.
“How long have you been planning this?” I ask Carter once everyone else is occupied and deep in conversion.
He lets out a coy grin. “Honestly?”
“Yes, honestly.”
“I've planned on making you mine since the day I met you. Britney, you have a hold over me. It’s hard to explain, but I knew I would never forgive myself if I didn’t do everything in my power to make you sure I would one day get to call you my own.”
I rub on my eyes, wiping the tear slipping from the corner. “That must be the sweetest thing I have
ever heard. I wish I could say the same. The first day I met you, I bashed your head in with a pot. I guess I should have known this day would come from the moment I walked in on you hogging the shower.”
Carter scans the room and sees that everyone else is still in conversation. "What do you say we get out of here and really seal our fate, cupcake?"
My lower lip trembles with anticipation. “I thought you’d never ask.”
We hug everyone goodbye and make our way back to my apartment.
“What do you think about moving in with me?” Carter asks as he suggestively rubs his palm against my thigh on the drive back home.
I contemplate his request for a few moments. All it takes is the thought of waking up to Carter holding me tight in his arms to make up my mind.
“That may not be the worst idea you’ve ever had. But I have a condition.”
“Oh, yeah?”
“Yeah… No. More. Laughing.”
We both break into a helpless case of the giggles.
Carter parks the car and lifts me out of it. My body is wrapped up in his massive arms as he carries me into my apartment, except this time, he’s extra careful not to let my foot bash against the door. Leaning back against his chiseled chest feels like a dream come true; he has me feeling like a bride already.
He lays me down on the bed and stands back. Sparkling eyes dance across my body, and he nibbles on his lower lip.
“Fuck, Britney. I don’t think you have any idea how happy you make me.”
I may have an idea. If it's anything like the way I feel about him, then minutes bleed into hours whenever I'm away from him. No matter how bad a day I'm having, I know it will be worth it when I see my man again. He is the reason I breathe, the reason I love, and now, Carter Buffet is the reason I cannot wipe this smile off my face.
I brush my hair behind my ears, allowing it to flow down my shoulders. "Oh, yeah? Well, why don't you show me, big boy?"
"First, the most beautiful woman I've met, both inside and out, agrees to be my wife." He trails his fingers up my thighs. "And now, I get to touch this beautiful body of hers every day of my life. I swear I must be the luckiest man on this planet.”
His hands work higher up my thighs. God, I'm soaked already, and he hasn't even started yet.
I’m such a quick trigger with Carter. All it takes is a single touch from him to make me come undone.
His hands are now pressing against my sensitive lips, and he flicks his fingers through my folds. There is not an inch of me he doesn't worship when he touches me.
“Oh, yes. Just. Like. That.” I moan.
“I love how wet you are for me, cupcake. I love—”
Carter stops his sentence midway. We both lift our heads and look over at the bedroom door. We both heard that.
Clink. Another sound comes from inside the apartment. The sounds are soft, but it’s all I hear. That and our beating hearts.
My heart races, and it’s no longer for the right reasons. Carter pulls his hand from under my skirt.
His narrowed eyes tell me this is not all in my head. Perhaps I was so excited that Chaleur closed down that I failed to think that they could still be out seeking revenge.
“Britney, I need you to stay in the bedroom. I’ll handle this,” he whispers.
"No, wait," I offer softly, but he has already tiptoed out of the bedroom and into the darkness of my apartment.
Chapter Ten
Carter
The footsteps echo in Britney’s apartment.
“Wait here,” I say to Britney and reach in my pocket for my taser. I kill the bedroom light and tiptoe out of the bedroom into the darkness. A man stands at the door, his silhouette lit up by the nightlight. Judging from his frame, he’s not a big guy. I could easily take him out myself, but I need to make sure it’s not a trap, that there aren’t other men lurking behind the furniture.
I bend down and crawl like a wild cat creeping up on its predator, closing in on him with every step I take forward.
After Chaleur Models shut down, I would have thought these people would have ended their obsessive need for revenge, but it’s clear that they have no plans to let Britney get off that easily.
Not on my watch.
They will need to kill me first if they have any hopes of getting to my wife-to-be.
Everything seems amplified. With heightened senses, I can smell the cigarette smoke on him.
I shift into the lounge, and I’m now inches away from him. I take another step forward when my toe accidentally catches on the lampshade. Shards of broken glass fly across the lounge as the lamp shatters with impact.
Fuck. My cover is blown.
The man whips his head back, turning to me with a baseball bat in his hand, but it’s too late. I leap onto him. My fist connects with his head, and once he's down on the ground, I fill him with jolts of electricity. He’s writhing and squirming, begging for mercy. I told the last guy to make sure Chaleur gets the message that Britney is not to be fucked with. This time, I’m done playing nice. These fuckers don’t seem to understand ‘nice.’
“Stop. Fuck, aww… please stop!”
“Why the fuck are you people back here? Didn’t I te—” I swallow my words, pausing dead in my tracks once the nightlight highlights the black and green mask the man’s wearing.
Shit.
This cocksucker is not here for Britney. He’s here for me. I recognize that black and green mask from a mile away. This is one of Gambit’s men.
A shiver runs down my spine at the thought that Gambit has Britney’s address, that I have put the only woman I have ever loved in danger. I have worked my ass off to make up for my past mistakes. Yet, here I am, the past set on fucking my life up.
But I’m done with this shit. It’s time to settle this once and for all.
A wave of rage floods over me at the thought that something could have happened to Britney, and my hand clenches into a fist.
I lower my glance to my hand and see traces of blood from the first time I punched Gambit’s goon against the back of his head.
My fist connects with his jaw, knocking him out. The man falls back and lands on the glass table in the lounge.
What follows is a piercing scream from Britney. She stands in the lounge with her hands to her mouth as she watches this scene unfold. Her entire body is shaking. Fuck, my girl should never have to see or even hear shit like this.
“Cupcake, I need you to stay in the bedroom. Please! I’ll be with you soon.”
Britney scurries back to the bedroom, and I scan the room to see if any more of Gambit's goons are lurking in the darkness.
By the time I’m done scanning the apartment, all the lights are switched on, and the masked man is slowly regaining his senses.
I drag him by his feet across to the dining room and place him on a chair.
“If you dare make a move, it will be the last thing you do.”
He struggles to hold his head up, still dizzy from the knocks to his head.
I head over to the bedroom and grab hold of an extension cord. I dart back into the lounge and hold the intruder captive with the extension cord by tying up his hands and feet.
I rip off his mask. And just like that, all the rage I feel inside slowly subsides into confusion.
My lips curl into an 'O' to form the word "Woah."
What the fuck?
He looks nothing like I would have expected. In front of me is a kid, easily in his late teens. There are no tattoos, no signs that he could have been in prison; nothing that suggests he’d be capable of working for a man as evil as Gambit. Tears slip from the corners of his eyes, and he stares back at me like a helpless child.
“What the fuck are you doing working for Gambit?” I bark.
He now breaks into violent sobs. “I’m sorry, it’s not by choice. I swear. Gambit threatened my family unless I work for him. Please don’t kill me.” There’s a plea in his voice that has my throat scratchy and dry. I look away for a few moment
s to gather my senses. I hate to think that I could have killed this boy; he’s just a child. I clear my throat and turn back to him.
“Your name?”
“I’m Jonathan. Please don’t hurt me. I’ll do whatever you ask.”
“How did you know where to find me?” I hold my glare. He may be a kid, but the last thing I want is for him to see me feeling sorry for him.
“I don’t know. I was just given an instruction to break into this apartment, threaten you, and collect debt money."
I glare at the kid for a few moments, contemplating my next move. Holding someone hostage to do his dirty work and issuing threats if he fails to comply sounds like Gambit.
This would have been so much easier if I could see the goon was here by choice. I could really do some harm that would send a message to Gambit and let him know I’m not to be fucked with, but having a petrified kid begging for mercy is not something I’m prepared for.
Britney's shaky voice breaks my train of thought. I tilt my head to face my wife-to-be.
“Babe. I’m scared. What is happening? Who is this guy?” Britney cries out from the bedroom.
I turn to Jonathan. “Stay here. If you dare make a move, you will regret it.” I scan the room to make sure there’s nothing he can use as a weapon or to break free from my extension cord cuffs before heading over to Britney.
I pull Britney into my arms and hold her close. “There’s a bad guy in the lounge.”
“Chaleur?”
“That’s what I thought at first, but no. He's out to get me, but don't worry, I have him tied up, and I'm interrogating him to find out more about the man he works for.”
Britney tilts her head, and her eyes glaze over me. She refuses to blink, and then she stands to her feet. "Well, come on then. Let's get this interrogation over and done with."
The side of my mouth quirks upward. God, she is so sexy when she's feisty, but she cannot get involved in this. "I don't think it's a good idea, cupcake. These people are bad. Let me deal with him, and this will all be over before you know it."
