Cupcake Explosion (Cupcakes 4)

“And my mom said, ‘Cade, just go into the ocean and clean yourself up, it’ll be fine.’ I was like, ‘Ma, there’s a five-inch nail sticking out of the bottom of my foot, I think we should go to the emergency room.’ She put her hands on her hips and said, ‘Ku‘uipo, you are my Koa, quit whining and let the sea clean your wounds.’”

“What did you do?” Elin asked with a snort.

“I told Chris to pull it out, then I ran into the water, screaming and swearing enough to scare the fish. Then Pops superglued my foot and gave me a shot of whiskey.”

Lena’s eyes bugged.

“Pops gave you whiskey when you were a kid?”

Cade nodded. “Said it made me a man.”

“Mom, can I have a shot of whiskey?” Elin asked.

I glared at Cade and said, “No, son, you may not.”

Cade just grinned at me.

“When I’m sixteen?” Elin countered.

“Nope.”

“Eighteen?”

“Not on your life.”

“Twenty?”

“Keep going.”

“Gosh, you’re no fun. I’ll ask Pops when they get here.”

“Are you trying to drive me crazy?” I asked Cade, but he only chuckled in response.

“YOU KNOW, WE should probably have a conversation about the things you say to and around the kids . . . They’re very impressionable, and they really look up to you,” I began as we walked into the bedroom to start getting ready for bed.

I heard the door click and then lock.

“I have a better idea,” Cade said, his voice rough in that way that had my girly parts tingling.

I turned slowly, my legs already beginning to quiver, and asked, “What’s that?”

“I think you should take off all your clothes, go into the bathroom, turn on the shower, and bend over the counter.”

My throat began to close and my breasts got heavy.

“If I’m bending over the

counter, why do we need the shower on?” I asked softly. A little afraid and a lot excited.

Cade reached back and pulled his T-shirt over his head, then shook his head. His hair was longer now, and if fell with wild abandon down past his shoulders. He was broad shouldered, with delicious pecs and a body that never failed to make my palms itch.

“The shower’s on to cover the sounds of your screams as I take you from behind.”

Oh my.

“Goodie,” I managed, the word coming out muffled as I scrambled to rid myself of my clothes in record speed.

The look was probably not flattering as I bent and bobbed to try and get it all off quickly, but before you could say, who brought the lube, I was in position. The counter was cold against my skin, and I said a brief thanks that I’d just cleaned it that morning.