Sinners are Winners (KPD Motorcycle Patrol 5)

“Did you get a ticket?” Justice wondered.

She shook her head. “No. The dumbass that wouldn’t let me over lost control of his vehicle and hit a turning car. Speed-Trap stopped to deal with that. I chose to count my lucky stars and leave before I got my ass handed to me.”

She cut off another piece of cake, this one chocolate, and offered it up to me.

I held out my plate for it and then moaned again when the chocolate flavor hit my tongue.

“Goddamn,” I said. “It’s a damn shame that she’s leaving.”

“Will she be able to make the cake?” Justice wondered. “If she’s leaving?”

Royal nodded. “Yes, but she’s going to come over and make it at our house. I invited her to do that.”

“Umm,” Justice said. “Not that I mind her using the kitchen, but we have a postage-stamp-sized kitchen. How the hell is she going to accomplish baking a cake that’ll feed seventy-five people, and a groomsman cake as well, in our tiny house?”

Man had a point.

“She can use my kitchen,” I offered. “It’s big. The only thing in the house that’s redone, too. She’ll have plenty of room.”

Royal’s eyes locked on mine and she smiled. “Would you really be okay with that?”

I shrugged. “As long as she cleans up after herself, I’m down for whatever. If I’m working, then one of you can let her in.”

Royal clapped. “Thank you so much. This really means a lot to me. I was worried about the space issue, but she assured me she would be fine.”

I took another bite of the cake.

“Just make sure that she makes me a small one all for myself.” I paused. “One with chocolate icing and vanilla cake.”

Justice snorted. “If I have to pay five hundred bucks for my cake, you’re not getting one for free. Trust me on that.”

“Bummer.” I took another bite.

“Are you working this Saturday?” Royal suddenly said, sounding worried.

I shook my head. “No. I’m off for your wedding, remember?”

“Oh, good.” She looked relieved. “I had a minor freak out. You’re actually paired up with Saylor for the wedding.”

“Your friend is charging you for the cake and she’s in your wedding?” I wondered, pausing with my fork midway to my mouth.

Royal rolled her eyes.

“I wouldn’t let her pay for it all herself,” Royal answered. “She offered to do it for free, but I wouldn’t let her do that. She’s a great friend, and I know that she can’t afford to make the cake.”

“Is that what she does for a living?” I asked. “Make cakes?”

Royal shook her head. “No. She’s actually an ultrasound tech.”

“My mom’s an ultrasound tech,” I said. “They make good money.”

Royal shrugged. “Apparently, she can’t find a job down here. She was able to find one back home, though, which is where she’s headed. Back to Benton.”

I looked at Justice. “She lives…lived…where you lived?”

Justice nodded. “Yeah. She actually grew up with me. It’s another reason she’s in the wedding and making our cake. Funny thing is, I didn’t even know that she was down here. She befriended Royal and was friends with her way before I introduced the two of them one day when I saw her in the grocery store.”

Hours later, after a meal and another piece of cake that Royal had sent home with me, I couldn’t get the cake maker off of my mind. All I kept thinking about was never tasting her cake again, and for some reason, that really fuckin’ worried me.

Like, almost to the point of distraction.

Luckily, I had a busy week ahead of me, and by the end of it, I’d almost convinced myself that the cake wasn’t anywhere near as good as I’d made it out to be.

Turns out, I was wrong.

And the woman that made it? She was the biggest surprise of them all.Chapter 2Describe your sex life by using a movie title.

-How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days

Saylor

I tucked my hair up into a headband, making sure there were no fly-aways, and then got out of my car.

Moments later, I was pulling my big box of baking supplies out of my trunk.

As of last night, around eight in the evening, everything was packed and ready to go.

When my parents arrived this weekend for Justice and Royal’s wedding, they would be taking what they could with them when they left.

And it would all be over.

My dream.

My freedom.

Fuck.

I swallowed past a lump in my throat and hefted the box up in my hands, walk-waddling my way to the front door.

I’d just pressed the doorbell button when I set the box down, then ran back to my car and slammed the trunk closed.

When I turned back around and made it to about midway up the walk of the house that I’d be baking my cakes in, I stopped dead.

Because it was him.

My mouth fell open, and I stared in dumfounded shock at the man standing in front of me.