Chapter 15 The Best Laid Kidnapping Plans #2
He flips the phone over, smirks, then makes an O with his thumb and forefinger. “Zero. I used my brain,” he says, tapping his temple. “I sent a gift to her—well, to her PR team—along with a card. She has a thing for otters, and I found an otter necklace.”
I stand corrected. “Holy shit. I was messing with you. But you’re really talking to her?”
The smirk widens. “Yep. We have a date when we’re back in town.”
Talk about persistence. “Good on you,” I say, offering him a fist for knocking.
“Thanks. I’m a little excited,” he says. “Her work is awesome. She’s not just a hostess. She’s an actress. And she’s done some streaming rom-coms.”
As he goes on about Sapphire’s talent and emotional range, I’m ready to make Fanboy his new nickname. But I’ll wait till he actually goes out with her.
“Make sure you wear something stylish for the first date. I mean, you do have a rep as a stylish motherfucker.”
He runs a hand down his tie with fall leaves on it. “I’m going to look so damn good for her.”
Once we’re checked into The Resort hotel on the beach, I gather Riggs, Miller, and Ivan in my room and tell them the plan as they lounge on the couch.
Ivan rubs his big palms together. “Henrik would seriously kill to be a part of this. Sucks to be him.”
“If your husband ever gets traded from Seattle to San Francisco, he can join us,” I say.
“Sure, that’s what we’ll be doing if he gets traded. Team pranks,” Ivan says dryly.
“This is no prank, men,” Riggs says, popping up from the couch.
“That’s right,” Miller seconds. “This is serious business.”
Like a heist crew, we gather the materials and enlist some extra help. We snag a room service tray, and on it we set the box of cupcakes we picked up from the bakery. Then, we convince a hotel bartender named Kara to place the call from the bar, since we need it to come from a hotel phone.
It’s possible that a big tip helps convince her.
When she’s ready, we’re ready.
Riggs waits in the bar with Kara, texting us that she’s making the call, while Ivan, Miller, and I wait outside Lake’s hotel room.
When she lobs the call, saying there’s a special delivery heading his way of a dozen cupcakes from Sweet Cheeks, courtesy of his agent, Miller slides the tray quietly in front of the door.
He knocks and says, octaves higher than his own register, “Sweet Cheeks for my favorite client.”
Like a dog lured out of his den, Lake swings open the door, pokes his head out, and—bam.
Target acquired.
“Winger-napping,” I declare, slipping the pillowcase over his head.
“Are you kidding me?”
“Not one bit,” I reply then hoist him up by the shoulders while Ivan grabs his legs, and we carry him down to a waiting Lyft.
Lake thrusts both arms in the air and struts like a peacock across the lawn where he’s vanquished us in mere minutes. “And that’s how you do it.”
I shake my head. “Are you kidding me? Have you been secretly playing?”
Lake scoffs. “Nope. I’m just that good, boys.”
“I bet you played us,” Miller says, slumping into a lawn chair at our table at the Back Porch Pub, a mile from the hotel. “All that time claiming you didn’t want to go while you were secretly practicing so you could show us up.”
Rolling his eyes, Lake runs a hand through his longish hair. “First time, baby. First fucking time. The sooner you accept my supremacy in all things, the happier you’ll be.”
“No. I challenge you to a rematch,” Ivan says, cracking his knuckles and looking fearsome. He’s a defender, and that’s part of the job.
Lake just shrugs. “Fine, if you want to be dragged again, feel free.”
“Next time, can we teammate-nap someone who doesn’t, I dunno, school us all,” Riggs suggests.
“I second that,” I say.
“Be careful what you wish for,” Lake says, then smirks and grabs the ball, ready for another round. “Now, as I hand you your asses, what’s on the agenda next week for the club?”
“Oh, are you a regular member now?” Miller asks.
“Maybe,” Lake says with a wiggle of his brow. “Now that I know how much fun it is to beat you all in games.”
Riggs claps me on the shoulder. “We have to help Knighty Night with his bakery soon.”
“Yeah, how is that going?” Ivan asks casually, his deep, gravelly voice filled with some innuendo as he adds, “You’re doing that with the GM’s very pretty sister, right?”
I snap my face to him and lift an eyebrow. “What did you say?”
He laughs. “What? Do you think because I’m married, I didn’t notice she’s pretty?”
“No,” I say, scowling, since that’s not what caught my attention. But what did? That he called Theo the GM, even though he’s the acting one? Nah.
Riggs lifts his beer, laughing. “Jelly that Ivan noticed your business partner is hot?”
I drag a hand down my jaw, still a little rattled. Honestly, I don’t know what threw me off, but maybe it’s that we’re all talking about her when I was hoping not to talk about her. To use this trip to reset my mind. To stop thinking about Mabel so much.
I grab a bocce ball, then knock back some beer before I give an answer that focuses on the business. “Yeah, it’s going well, we have a name, and we’re getting it ready. Going to open it soon.”
“And she’s pretty?” Miller goads.
“She’s also smart and funny and interesting,” I point out quickly. Maybe too quickly.
Ivan whistles. “Well, well, well.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Oh, you’re definitely just saying,” Miller adds.
“More like you’re just saying you think she’s a whole lot more,” Riggs points out.
“I thought Henrik was pretty and smart and funny and interesting, and look—I married him,” Ivan says with a cocky grin.
Lake cracks up as he strides to the front of the court, a ball in hand, ready to toss. “I had no idea how much fun it would be to watch you all knock Corbin down several pegs. This is almost better than cupcakes.”
Why did I think going out with these guys would get my mind off her?
Especially since when we return, Lake doles out the cupcakes. As I eat the frosting, I’m definitely thinking of Mabel, and I really, really shouldn’t be.