Once I found Freida, she accepted the excuse and was visibly concerned. Wow, they believed her. If I had ever used that excuse I’d hear the disbelief loud and clear and most likely never get asked back.
Once I made my way back, I found my sister hiding behind the coats.
“What are you doing?”
“In case someone from the kitchen walks by. I don’t want them to see me.”
I shook my head. “Oh, Sis, how innocent you are to the world of playing hooky.”
I grabbed the man’s coat again and told Laura to wait a moment while I checked on something in the back.
Excitement bubbled in my chest. Maybe I could see what he looked like. I kept trying to imagine him in my head, but he would morph into Harrison Ford. But not Harrison Ford now, because that would be disturbing. I wasn’t into men who were my grandfather’s age.
I meant Harrison Ford from Raiders of the Lost Ark. When he was a professor and had glasses. Okay, I liked to watch that movie a lot and would’ve totally been the student who wrote Love You on her eyelids. There’s just something about that nerdy hotness . . .
When I got to the small door, I took a breath. Luck better be a hot Indiana Jones lookalike.
Pushing the door open, the room was black. He might have hidden behind the boxes.
“It’s me. Julia. I got something for you to wear.”
This time, I made sure not to step inside the room. Didn’t want to get stuck again. Or did I?
Nope. Better if he came out.
There was no answer.
“Uh, Wonder Dick?” I winced.
I needed a light. I grabbed the small lamp on the stool and pointed it into the room. Just some boxes. No sexy naked guy.
“Hey, Laura?” I called back to my sister.
I didn’t want my sister to see him naked, but I had to make sure he wasn’t in the room. What if he was unconscious? What if his gigantic cock pulled too much blood from his head and caused him to faint? It would be cruel of me not to check.
“Yeah?” She stepped into the small hallway.
“Can you hold the lamp and the door open while I check inside?”
“Did you leave something in there?” she asked, taking the lamp from my hands.
“Yes, my shoes. Remember?”
Until she said something when I came out, I had forgotten about them. And when I thought about my missing undies and tights, I grinned.
“Right. Here, you might need this.” She held out her phone.
“To make a call?”
I could have used that an hour ago when I was trapped.
“No, the flashlight app.” She tapped on the screen until the flashlight glared from the other side.
I grabbed it and went inside. The room was smaller than I had expected. The darkness made it seem large. Also, there were fewer boxes than I had imagined.
I checked behind every corner and box, but Wonder Dick was nowhere in the room. I discovered my shoes pushed into a corner. But no matter how many boxes I shoved aside, I couldn’t find my panties or tights.
“You found your shoes. Let’s go before someone from the kitchen finds me.”
I slid my eyes to my sister. “Yes, they’ll meander through a coat closet. Because that’s what kitchen staff do.”
“Enough sass. Let’s go.”
I hastily put on my shoes and took one last look around. Then something caught my eyes. There, on the floor, was a red-and-white-striped ribbon.
Bending down, I picked it up, my cheeks warming in remembrance.
I didn’t get a chance to see what my orgasmic superhero looked like tonight, but at least I had a token of his candy cane dick.
Chapter 7
Monty
9 1/2 Months Later
I RAISED MY FIST TO the red-painted door of the Cape Cod-style house and knocked.
Glancing around the tiny cement porch, I noticed a few blue balloons that had “Happy Birthday” printed on them. Adjusting the box in my hand, I tried not to leave a perspiration mark on it.
My palms were sweating. Not from the heat that lingered in the early September air, but for the reason I hadn’t met the birthday boy—or his mother.
I was here because my brother Rock asked me to help. I’d do anything for him, even crash a one-month-old’s birthday party.
The door opened, and a cool gust of air hit me. A temporary relief from the heat.
“Monty. I didn’t know you were coming. Rock will be happy to see you,” Laura, Rock’s girlfriend, said with a welcoming smile.
“He’s here?”
She nodded.
That’s odd. The whole reason I was here was because Laura and Rock weren’t speaking. He showed up drunk in my office and lamented about how Laura would move out. She wanted to live with her sister to help her raise the baby.
From what I had gathered, the baby’s father was a no show. I suspected he found out Laura’s sister was pregnant and left. That was usually the case with these situations.
Dirtbag.
I may not have had a child, but if I found out a woman was pregnant with my baby, I wouldn’t leave them to fend for themselves. That was the behavior of a lowlife.
My father wasn’t around a lot when I was young because he worked to support his family. Sometimes he worked two jobs, but he never left my mother or even threatened to leave. He worked hard because he loved us and would do anything to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads.
When a construction accident killed my father when I was a teenager, it broke our family, devastating my mom most of all. She died just six months later of a broken heart.
James said it was her drinking, but she never would have drunk so much if it wasn’t for losing the love of her life.
“I thought you two weren’t speaking?”
Laura tilted her head, her long blond hair falling like a waterfall over her shoulder.
“No. We’re fine. It upset him that I wanted to move back in here when Jami left for a few weeks, but we worked it out. Since Jami’s back, there’s no reason for me to live here.”
I tightened my jaw. What a drama queen. I thought James was over the top, but Rock had him beat.
He begged me to help him. Now I felt like a freeloader crashing a baby’s party.
“But that’s why I came—”
“Hey, Monty. Why are you here?” Rock appeared behind Laura, placing his hand on her shoulder.
I blinked at my brother. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Was it about the cookies? I know how much you love cookies.” He turned his head toward Laura. “You know, when he was eight, Mom had to put him on a cookie-free diet. Any time there were cookies in the house, especially chocolate chip cookies, he’d eat all of them. Mom once found him under the sink with a half-empty box of them.”
“I was a kid. That was twenty years ago.”
But it was true. I was addicted to cookies.
“I brought something for the baby.” I pushed the small box with blue wrapping paper and a white bow toward Laura.
“You didn’t have to do that. Please, come inside.” She waved me in.
They stepped back, and I walked into the small entryway. The updated design surprised me. I knew Laura’s family didn’t have a lot of money, much like my family when we were growing up—before my brothers and I became billionaires.