Chapter 18 #2
Wanting to tease her a bit, I say, “Oh? Can I have some? I’d love to try it. I didn’t know you made candy too.”
The panic-stricken expression that covers her face is comical. “Oh, um, they aren’t ready yet. They have to cool. And we only made enough for everyone to take home a portion.”
“Oh. Then I’ll wait until you bring home your portion.” I raise my eyebrows as I smile innocently at her.
“I don’t bring things home myself,” she stammers. “I eat so many sweets here that I never bring them home.”
I lean in and smile. “Liar.”
Her eyes dart behind me to see Alex, and he throws me under the bus. “He knows you make dick shit for this disaster of a book club.”
Isabella lets out a sound of indignation as she steps back from me and slaps my arm lightly. “You jerk! How long were you going to let me go before you told me the truth?”
“Probably about the same amount of time until you told me the truth about this book club. I thought it was some boring meeting where you discussed a classical fiction novel. Now I know you’re actually discussing some good old fashioned cliterature.
Tell me, baby, did you have a favorite scene from this month’s book that you’d like to recreate at home? I’m all for promoting reading.”
A slow smile spreads across her face as she bites her lower lip. “I may have a favorite scene, but it involves a knife, so I think maybe you won’t be interested. Although I’m more aggravated about the possibility of ruining a mattress than the actual knife.”
I stare at her as she watches me, her eyes sparkling. “I may need some clarification. There’s a sex scene with a knife? Ruining a mattress, I understand. Is there actual stabbing with the knife? Will one of us bleed? I’m pretty partial to all of my limbs.”
“The mattress gets ruined because of the knife, not because of the sex. Does that make sense?”
“No,” I reply slowly. “Who is this author? Are we sure it’s a romance book? This sounds like a thriller.”
“Well, there are some deaths, and the mafia is involved, but yeah, it’s a romance book.”
“Author, Isabella.”
She sighs. “Navessa Allen. The book is called Lights Out .”
Pulling it up on Amazon, I say, “Oh, there’s an audiobook? I like that even better.”
“The audiobook is phenomenal. And there’s a cat. But I really think you may want to read a different book. This one is … dark.” Isabella looks at me tentatively, and I can read the nerves on her face. I slide my hand around her waist, palming her ass as I pull her toward me .
“I want to read what you read, baby. And now I need to know how the mattress gets ruined by a sex knife.”
She bursts out laughing, throwing her head back. I love this side of Isabella, the carefree woman who trusts me enough to show me her real self. “I don’t think I can view that scene the same now, knowing it’s a sex knife.”
“I’ll let you know what I think of it, once I get to the scene,” I murmur, leaning in to peck her lips with a quick kiss. “So how does this shindig end? Do you have to kick everyone out? Anyone we need to drive home?”
“Oh, I assumed I’d get a ride with someone, or get an Uber,” she answers.
I shake my head. “Why do you think I’m here? I’m perfectly capable of taking my woman home, and I can drive anyone else that needs a ride.”
Her lips twitch with a cute smile. “You really are a sweet man underneath this bad boy exterior, aren’t you?”
“Do you like the exterior, mi Cielo ?” Leaning in, I whisper in her ear. “I can be a bad boy too, if that’s what you’d like.”
Before she can respond, a woman I’ve never seen before tentatively walks up to us. “Hi, Isabella, I wanted to thank you for allowing me to crash your book club this month. I heard you say you might need a ride. I’m heading out of town to my boyfriend’s, so I can take you.”
The hair stands on the back of my neck. I know this woman, but I can’t remember how.
A few inches shorter than Isabella, she has curly blond hair that ends at her shoulders, and hazel eyes that keep darting to me.
Her posture is stiff and jerky, like she’s ready to make a run for it if needed.
Extending my hand, I say, “Hi, I’m Sebastian, Isabella’s man.
I’ll be driving her home. What did you say your name is? ”
“Oh, um,” she stammers, before hesitantly placing her hand in mine, “I’m Jenna. ”
Her name is not Jenna, that I know. I dated a Jenna in high school, and I’d definitely remember her name. How do I know this woman?
“Thanks for coming, Jenna,” Isabella says warmly. “As you can tell, we get a little rowdy for the Triple C Club.”
“Triple C?” I ask, trying to think of what CCC might mean. I groan as I realize it. “The Cocks and Cookies Club.”
“How’d you figure that out so quickly?” Isabella asks.
I tap her temple. “Because I know how your mind works.”
“None of my brothers have guessed it,” she muses, making me snort.
“I bet they know, and they’ve chosen not to bring it up. I’ve got sisters, and I’d never utter the word ‘cock’ in front of them.”
A few ladies call out their goodbyes from the doorway, and Jenna hastily makes her exit.
Pulling out my phone, I text Trace a description of her, then ask that he see if he can catch her at the outskirts of town.
If she truly does live outside of Eternity Springs, I want to know where, and I want to know how she found out about this underground cock cookie club.
“What do you need help with?” I ask Isabella as she begins collecting empty plates.
“I don’t leave anything down here. I’m scared even a crumb will attract rodents.” She shivers. “I don’t do mice.”
“Good to know. Is there a way upstairs without going through that alley from here?”
“Yeah, but it’s more like a pulley system. It’s not a full staircase. It’s big enough for me to get through, though, because one time a snow squall came through, and I needed to get a big bag of flour. I refused to go outside.”
“And the exterior door has a good locking system?” I ask.
“A lock and a deadbolt. Should I add more?” Isabella inquires.
I try to keep my expression and voice calm. “I’m being overprotective. I have to have guarantees you’re safe, sweetheart. Now that I finally have you, I have to make sure.”
“Okay, weirdo,” she mutters. “I think my dungeon is safe from criminals. If they feel the need to steal a fifty-pound bag of sugar, they can have at it.”
That’s not what I’m concerned about.