Page 137 of The Spare

His cock swells between us, pressing tight into my belly. "Make love to me?"

Dad comes back into the room, clearing his throat, making us pull away reluctantly.

"Tonight," Mason whispers against my lips.

We both turn to face him, and I'm blushing so hard I feel faint, forgetting just how badly Mason's kisses affected me. My heart thumps heavily in my chest, and my breasts swell against my bra, my need making itself known.

Dad's lips tip in a grin as he looks between us, arching a brow. "Can we go?" he drawls slowly. "Or do y'all need to go take a nap or something?"

I gasp, slapping my hand to my mouth and turning back to the sink, hurriedly washing the other dishes.

"We're fine," Mason chuckles, tucking me under his arm when I rinse my hands and shut the water off. I take the towel he gives me and dry my hands with it, throwing it to the counter when I'm done.

"So, an hour away you said?" I squeak, clearing my throat and turning to head to the mudroom for my shoes.

"Yup. Almost, anyways." Dad laughs, and ten minutes later, we're in an armored SUV, driving down the coast headed to what I hope is going to be a new beginning for me.

My hope is thoroughly crushed as I stand outside, flanked on either side by Dad and Mason looking up at the bakery in front of us, my mouth gaping.

It's not just a bakery. It's a bakery/factory that takes up damn near a quarter of the block. Its storefront is beautifully decorated with white paint and pink shutters. The pink neon signDeadly Sweetis in a beautiful cursive, featuring a cartoon cupcake. Swirls and various sweets are written in white and pink on the store window, and several iron tables and chairs with umbrellas are lined outside on the patio, which is filled to the brim with customers and servers bringing out elaborate desserts.

It's so girlie it's comical, but despite how sweet it looks, it's amassivebusiness.

Beyond the storefront, you can see a white building attached. It has its own production factory.

I'm instantly intimidated.

"I can't apply for a job here,"I hiss to my dad. "Look at this place!" I moan, putting a hand to my forehead."And we drove all the way here too."

Dad puts a hand to my back, looking down at me. "Since you've been with me you've made a desert every night. And not only are theygood,they are comparable to everything I've eaten in here. I wouldn't have brought you otherwise."

I look into his eyes, feeling some of my unease melt away as he looks at me with so much kindness it's hard to believe he's an underboss to the most powerful Don in California, and I can see why my mom fell in love with him all those years ago.

I huff out a breath, steeling my resolve, and squaring my shoulders. "Okay, here goes nothing."

Walking inside is like something out of a movie. I can't believe the difference in stepping off the sidewalk and into the store. I'm immediately hit by smells of all kinds, and the place is enormous. The space is big enough for at least thirty circular white tables, with pink chairs and all of them are packed full.

My eyes roam, seeing an entire wall to the left is nothing but frosted glass freezer doors with cakes, pies, custards, and different flavors of ice creams. At the register are at least three clerks who man the store next to a glass display of cookies, muffins, donuts, biscuits, pastries, brownies, and puddings.

There are three lines of people almost to the back where we stand.

The opposite wall is a stretch of wall to wall glass panels with what looks to be party rooms beyond, and I see a group of girls dressed up, posing in front of an impressive selfie wall made of flowers and greenery taking pictures.

Jesus.

Glazed white round tables break up the customer tables throughout the space and decorated with what I would assume you'd find in Willy Wonka's chocolate factory. Candy of all shapes and sizes dominate these tables, reaching high almost to the ceiling. Each table is a different color scheme.

There's even a little melted chocolate fountain bar.

I shiver. "It's cold in here," I say nervously, catching the eye of a woman walking towards us who was delivering a pair of comically tall sundaes piled high with whipped cream to a table.

She looks to be about thirty, and so pretty she could be a barbie doll. She reminds me of the African American version of Karissa she's so perfectly put together. My eyes fall to the chunky bangle on her wrist, and her ears decorated with beautiful earrings. She's in front of us in no time at all, giving me and Mason a curious once over before putting her attention back to my dad.

"Maximus!"she trills, smiling brightly as she steps forward and wraps her arms warmly around him. Mason and I stay silent, just watching as they greet each other. She steps back and gets a teasing scowl on her face and hits him in the arm, surprising me. "I haven't seen you in amonth, you asshole.Where have you been? I thought you'd gotten yourself in trouble and I was going to have to come rescue you!" she says in a sharp tone.

Though it's obvious she's teasing, I frown. Wondering if Dad's a player.

"Ah, Charayl," he drawls, getting an amused smile on his face. "Do you really think you would have found me?"