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“You made all that today?” I have no idea how long cakes take to make, but it seems like it’d be an effort to make four cakes in just over an hour.
“No, I made them on Saturday night. You know, the day you woke me up like a crazy man storming into my bedroom. That day.” She’s bringing up shit that pissed her off at the time, but she seems anything but pissed off today.
“Which is the best?”
“Well, my favourite is always chocolate, but I really recommend the lemon cake this time. It’s really freaking good.” Another smile lights up her face like nothing else.
Fuck me.
I’ve only ever known Zara to be in my face. Difficult. This softer side of hers is something else.
She turns to go inside but glances back at me. “You wanna come inside and eat?”
I shake my head. “No, I need to stay out here and keep an eye on shit.”
“Okay. Do you drink coffee?”
“Yeah.”
“I’ll make some for you to have with your cake.”
With that, she’s gone and I’m left staring after her, trying like hell to keep my eyes off that ass of hers. She might have it covered up with that loose dress, but even that can’t hide what I know is under there.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I do my best to put her body out of my mind. This is not the time for it. Or the girl. I need to remember who I’m dealing with here: King’s daughter.
She’s been gone for just over five minutes when a hotted-up Commodore pulls into her driveway and two dickheads get out. I know they’re dickheads just by looking at them because they remind me of my brother at their age. And while they don’t look to be a threat to Zara or Holly, I’m not taking any chances, so I jog up the yard towards the front door of the house and intercept them.
The taller one with dirty blond hair that looks like it hasn’t been washed in days eyes me with the kind of disrespect that would earn King’s disapproval, so my guess is he wouldn’t want this kid around his daughter. “You right, mate?” he says, attitude rolling off him.
Before I can answer, Zara’s voice sounds from behind me. “Tommy? What are you doing here?”
Tommy continues watching me for a beat before dragging his gaze to Zara. “Haven’t seen you since last week, Zara. Where you been?” This little shit wants in her pants, but from the signals she’s putting out, it doesn’t seem like the feeling is reciprocated.
She comes to stand next to me, her arms wrapped around her body again like they were before she loosened up with me. “I’ve been busy.”
“Doing what? And why didn’t you show at my party on Saturday night?”
Her arms don’t fall to her side; they stay glued around her body. “I told you I’m not interested and I meant it.”
He extends his arm, reaching for her, but I block him, stepping forward and pushing his arm away. When he scowls at me, I say, “She said she’s not interested. You should leave.”
I have his full attention now, as well as the other guy’s. They’re both glaring at me like they’re ready for a fight.
“And who the fuck are you, asshole?” Tommy demands, before suddenly swinging his head back towards Zara. “Is he why you’re not into me anymore? Are you fucking him?”
Zara’s arms finally drop and the fire I know her for roars back to life. “No I’m not fucking him and even if I were it’d be none of your business, Tommy, because we’re not together!”
His lip curls and his eyes bore into her with anger before he looks at me. “She’s been playing me for months now. You know about that while you’ve been fucking her? I should have known. Everyone fucking knows that Zara Bennett screws around.”
I try to curb my intense dislike of this kid because the last thing I wanna do right now is get into a fight with a teenager who has no hope of winning that fight. But he’s the exact kind of teenage boy I’ve never had any time for; not when I was a teen and sure as fuck not since then.
Zara steps forward and shoves him hard while losing her shit. “Don’t you ever say that again! I don’t screw around!” He stumbles backwards, and she just keeps going for him, shoving him again, this time into his friend. “I fucking hate you, Tommy! I have no idea why I even liked you in the first place.”
When she slaps him, I move into action, sliding my arm around her waist, scooping her up and hauling her away from him. I pin my gaze to his and roar, “Get the fuck out of here and don
’t come back!”
Zara fights me, trying like hell to escape my hold, but I keep her tightly against me. Her legs kick, her arms thrash in the air, and she demands, “Put me down!”
