Panic grips my chest, making it impossible to breathe. I want to tackle Adrik sideways, stop whatever line of thought he’s on.
But then more of Adrik’s threats flash through my head.
"Good girls keep their hands to themselves."
“The next time you grab me, I’m grabbing back.”
He doesn’t seem like the kind of man who makes empty promises. And if he touches me again, there’s no telling what will happen. No telling what he might do. No telling what I might do.
“Pardon?” Jasmine asks, as shocked as I am.
“Wedding cakes,” Adrik repeats. “You know the ones? Typically found at weddings. Served after dinner. That kind of thing.”
He’s being an asshole. There’s no hint of a joke in his voice.
But Jasmine chuckles anyway. “Oh, um—”
“No,” I say, cutting her off. “She doesn’t do cakes.”
He turns those dark eyes on me. “Are you the baker now, Emery?”
“I worked here. We never made cakes back then. You didn’t like dealing with brides, remember, Jaz? Cookies are your specialty.”
“Well, it would be different if I knew the bride. Do I?” The meaning in her words isn’t lost on me.
“No,” I say curtly. Adrik has her sniffing around even more than she already was. The last thing I need is anyone finding out about this bizarre arrangement.
It’s only going to last as long as Adrik’s dad lives. He said “weeks” earlier, but now, it strikes me that I should get some sort of confirmation from a doctor.
If I sign a contract and then his dad lives and I’m stuck married to this megalomaniac for years…
I shudder. That would be hell on earth.
“I can definitely do wedding cakes,” Jasmine tells Adrik, grinning at him. “I’m more than capable.”
He tosses the rest of the cookie in his mouth and smiles back, though there isn’t a trace of warmth in it. “Wonderful. I’ll be in touch.”
I push up off the table. “We have to go. Isabella should sleep fine. Jaz, if she wakes up, you just have to help her roll over, but it’s so late that I doubt she’ll wake up at all. I’ll leave her wheelchair down here—”
“You never leave Isabella anywhere overnight,” Jasmine says. “Whatever you’re doing must be important.”
“Or I really trust you. Which I do. I’ll bring her wheelchair in and leave it in the back corner just in case.”
I hurry outside, unstrap the wheelchair as quickly as I can, and bounce on the balls of my feet while I wait for the ramp to lower. When it’s done, I wheel it onto the sidewalk and rush it inside.
Adrik is standing at the front counter. Jasmine is behind the register, beaming from ear to ear like she just won the lottery.
“… I can’t believe this,” she’s saying. “I don’t even know what to push on the register for something like this. I… are you sure?”
“Do I look like the kind of man who’s ever unsure, Jasmine?”
I’m at a loss for words. Shit, shit, shit. What has he done?
I walk up behind them. “What’s going on?”
“He just bought out my entire inventory.”
My jaw drops. “What?”
“Right?” Jasmine almost cackles. “Told me to deliver it to the women’s shelter down the block. How incredible is that?”
If possible, my jaw unhinges and drops even further. I turn to Adrik. “Excuse me?”
He shrugs and swipes a black debit card. Then he slides it into a buttery leather wallet and looks at me. “Are we finally ready?” He holds out his hand.
It looks like an invitation. A sweet gesture.
But I know what it really is.
A trap.
Next time you grab me, I’m grabbing back.
I shove my hands in my pockets and leave his dangling in the air. “Ready,” I croak.
Jasmine thanks Adrik profusely as we leave. I remind her twice to call me if anything goes wrong.
Then we step back into the early morning darkness.
When we get outside, the driver isn’t sitting in the car. I’m about to ask where he is when I see him coming around the side of the building. He steps into the circle of the streetlight, and I see a gun in his hand. It’s held at his side, but his posture is stiff. He’s alert.
“What’s going on?” I whisper. “Why does he have a gun?”
“He’s sweeping the area,” Adrik explains without bothering to look at me. “Making sure everything is safe.”
“Why wouldn’t it be safe?”
Adrik shakes his head. “Nothing you need to worry about. So long as you listen to me, that is.”
I want more of an explanation, but I know I won’t get it. So I pivot to the next topic at hand.
“Why did you do that?”
“Do what?”
I huff. “You know damn well what. Buy out Jasmine’s inventory. Donate it to the women’s shelter.”
“Because I lied to you earlier,” he says.