Chapter Six
Orchid
This was definitely the first and last time she was ever making a pie, which was just as well, considering she was nearing the end of her seven days in their company.
The truth was she couldn’t be happier to be going home tomorrow. She desperately needed to cuddle Tulip until even Tulip gave signs that it was enough.
By then, The Order would have had their meeting and voted to keep her off the marriage register. Either way, there was no way in hell she’d marry Wyoming Wolf.
She had plans in place if things didn’t go her way, and she ended up having to marry the man anyway. One thing she knew: it wasn’t going to be for long. But again, it wasn’t going to happen.
Tonight’s menu was pot roast—because even she couldn’t mess it up a few times before she got it right—and pecan pie and ice cream for dessert. Store-bought ice cream, thank you very much. She was, in two words, over it now.
But oh, the pie was her pièce de résistance, and it looked perfect. She tried her best not to hurry things along. Doing so would undo all the days and days of trust she’d earned from them. Nope, she couldn’t do anything out of the ordinary that would make them even a teeny, tiny bit suspicious.
She spoke in the same tone she used every other night at the dinner table. Animatedly told them a few odd and intriguing facts she’d googled an hour before dinner. She related a story she read about a house that was clearly haunted because every baby conceived in that house over the last hundred years looked exactly the same. How spooky. She made that story up on the spot.
And then it was time for dessert.
She served them generous portions. They complimented her accordingly. Then she insisted they take themselves to the living room for their nightly games while she cleaned up.
Whereas every other night, she blitzed through the cleanup to just get it done, this time she took her time. She checked her watch. Thirty minutes had gone by.
She removed her apron, took a strawberry licorice from a jar, and strolled into the living room. Swinging the roped candy in her hand, she took in the sight before her. If she thought they’d look a little vulnerable in their sleep, she was wrong.
They’d removed their jackets and ties and now lay sprawled on the sofas. Brent had fallen asleep where he sat on a wide chair, his powerfully muscular legs spread wide open, and his head lolled to the side.
River sat the same way but on a sofa, his head thrown back over the headrest. Cash had laid himself out on another sofa, one long leg hanging over the armrest while his other was bent at the knee.
Her gaze made one more sweep over them, their chiseled features, their perfect symmetry, the intimate rise and fall of their chests. Then, lower to the bulge in their bespoke suit pants. Gosh, even in a state of slumber, they were enormous. Yes, well, the bigger the cock, the bigger the dick. Right?
She called each of their names. Then, louder and louder still, and they didn’t even stir.
Must have been the sedatives she flavored the pecan pie with.
Perfect. Perfect. Perfect.
Munching on her sweet snack, she texted Lizzie that all was a go, then strolled her way to her bedroom and got to work.
Shower. Makeup. Wig. Outfit. Jewelry. She glanced at herself in the mirror once more, wiped a little blood-red lipstick from the side of her mouth, and retrieved a permanent marker from her handbag.
She wasn’t going to initially—the plan had been to go in and out or out and back before they awakened without a clue as to what she’d been doing, but if she could serve a portion of justice for a friend in the process, why not? She only had one more day left with them anyway. It didn’t matter if they knew who she was.
The extra short leather skirt twirled around her thighs as she swayed, and the clank of the pencil-thin heel of her black leather boots against the tiles echoed all around her as she made her way back to them in the living room.
Using her mouth to pull off the lid of the marker, she then proceeded to draw dicks on their foreheads. She contemplated leaving her calling card on their ridiculously handsome faces as well. Since this was her last gig before she decided what she really, really wanted to do with her life, why not? They had to know it was her. On each of their left cheeks, she wrote her name, well, her alter ego, to be precise.
Orchid X.
She snapped a couple of pictures of their faces and saved them in a password-protected album for now. Since she couldn’t take her phone where she was going, she left it in the kitchen, donned her leather coat, took her pick of the numerous sets of car keys, and spent a couple of minutes in their garage, which looked more like a hangar, seeing which Lamborghini lit up when she pressed the fob.
Oh, cool. It was a red one.
Soon, she was on her way to catch a cheater.