Chapter 33
Jasmina
I DIDN’T HAVE MUCH of an excuse for avoiding that SD card, other than the fact that I didn’t want the time with Callahan to end, other than the fact that I didn’t know what I would find.
Something in my gut told me I wouldn’t like what I found.
Something in my gut told me to wait.
So, instead, I called Lucille for help, and when she recruited Mia and Olive, I didn’t balk.
It was just two days later when they arrived to taste test cakes and desserts with me.
“Where’s Archer?” I asked Callahan as we tried another vanilla cake.
“He’s outside with the rest of them.”
“Why?” My hand froze, fork hovering with food. “Isn’t it freezing out there today?”
“Because you said they made you uncomfortable milling about.”
“So you put them all out in the cold?” I frowned at him. “Even Archer?”
Mia, Marian, and Lucille grumbled their discontent at the thought. Lucille even tsked, “Such a breezy day.”
“Can you go get him the sweater I made for him upstairs? It’s the black one. It’s done.”
“Oh, which stitch did you use?” Lucille asked me.
Yet, Callahan stopped me from answering by saying, “He’s not getting a damn sweater.”
“Why, exactly?”
“Because you don’t need to make other men sweaters.”
“Knight, are you kidding me right now?” I raised an eyebrow at him. “If you don’t get that man his sweater and bring him in here to try some of the cake with us, I’ll be taking off this ring.”
“That ring stays on your finger till you’re in the grave, Viper,” he threw back, but he was already stomping toward the door. He swung it open to yell, “Archer, get your dumbass inside to taste the cake. Jas wants your opinion.”
“Thank fuck. It’s cold as hell outside.”
“See!” I threw up my hands. “Get him his sweater!”
“Goddamn it,” Callahan grumbled as he went toward the stairs. “If I don’t have a sweater soon, I’m ripping his up.”
What a baby he was.
Mia chuckled and murmured, “Men, right?” and we all laughed before diving back into the cakes.
We were a week away from the wedding, and I had to give myself and all of them credit. We were doing it.
“The Sinful Red Velvet is my favorite,” Mia told me. “It’s actually Clara Hardy’s recipe. She’s Olive’s sister-in-law and is a world-renowned pastry chef. I’m sure she’d cater the whole wedding, if you’d like.”
“Oh, do that!” Annarose yelled through the phone. She was on a video call with us and was still giving her two cents every chance she got.
Callahan came back downstairs and threw the sweater at Archer, who gingerly put it on. Then both of them went to talk with Jameson, who supposedly had business to discuss with them.
Fran was sitting in one of the chairs eating from all ten cakes happily, though she glared at the men. “You all need to vote on the best cake too. Why aren’t you trying them?”
The dining room table was a twenty-seater, and I had to lick my lips watching every one of those men get up immediately.
All black suits, clean lines, and massive men who should have been on the cover of magazines.
Of course, they were dangerous—I knew that.
But still not one contested that little girl’s request. And therefore, it was a literal treat to see them all obey, each patting her head and agreeing with her so readily.
Rafe and Bane Black were the two men I’d met today, both as tall as Callahan. They were West Coast tycoons and supposedly vicious in their reign.
Rafe might have been a tad taller than Bane, had a scar on his cheek, and didn’t say much. Although, as he tasted a few of the cakes, he looked at me and murmured, “You like sweet or tangy?”
“Sweet.” I shrugged and glanced at Callahan, who was standing behind me, his arm brushing against my side as he took a fork and tried the red velvet and then the vanilla with a hint of lavender.
Rafe hummed and said, “And still I think you might like a bit of bite. I vote for vanilla with a hint of that lemon.”
Callahan murmured, “Watch yourself, Rafe.” His eyes were deadly serious, and I shivered at how low his voice was.
And Rafe smirked at me, holding my gaze before he glanced behind me to meet Callahan’s.
I could see a hard stare passing between the two of them and wasn’t sure if I should intervene.
Rafe was right. I liked the bite, and I also liked his audacity, because God knew most men wouldn’t challenge Callahan on anything.
He was a Knight and a Diamond, which meant the man had connections across the world.
“Can Clara make that one too?” I asked Olive.
“Oh, sure. She’ll work it out.”
I nodded. “Great. Let’s do it, then. I can cross it off my list because Rafe’s right, I like a bit of bite.”
“He keeps talking to you about bite, and he’ll be right outside my estate for the rest of the day.”
Rafe leaned against the table with a smile and said, “Sure about that, Cal?”
“Oh, I’m more than sure,” Callahan responded like he wanted to fight him, but then Fran chirped up.
“Uncle Cal, do you think we can walk Romeo outside today? You haven’t even invited me here for walking the cat with my bunny, and I’m pretty sad about it.”
“Walking your cat?” Rafe choked on a laugh.
And that’s how we ended up in the front yard ten minutes later with Jameson holding a bunny leash, Callahan holding a cat one, and Rafe, Archer, and every other guy who saw them filming it with their phones.
Not going to lie, I did too.
My ovaries made me. They weren’t in lockdown. They were in overdrive.