Page 87 of Passing Ships
I step into her and bring my mouth to her ear. “Yes, you were. You were being possessive and sent her scurrying off. But don’t worry; I’m sure I could still convince her to keep me company while you and Allen enjoy the wedding.”
She brings her hand up to shove my chest, but I just step in closer.
“I’ll have you know that I invited Allen months ago. You know, when you weren’t using my number. I haven’t talked to him in weeks, and he probably forgot all about it, but you have your fun.” She huffs and then leans in to whisper, “Go to jail. See if I care.”
I chuckle at the pout in her voice, as I hook her waist with one arm. “Come on, Legs. Let’s go get a cake.”
I’m staring at the four-tier wedding cake with a mixture of awe and terror. It’s a tower of white buttercream and delicate gold coral and white seashells, and I have absolutely no idea how I’m supposed to transport it in one piece. Amiya, on the other hand, seems completely unbothered. She’s leaning against the counter, scrolling through her phone.
“So, how do we do this?” she asks Jessica, the owner, who hands her a pickup ticket. “Do we just … pick it up and hope for the best?”
She chuckles, her eyes flicking between us. “Don’t worry. It’s not as fragile as it looks. Just make sure it’s secure in the car, and you’ll be fine.”
I nod, but I’m not convinced. If anything happens to this cake, Avie’s mother is going to lose it on me. I can just hear it now.
Amiya pushes off the counter and walks over to me, her hands on her hips. “Come on. Let’s get it loaded. The sooner we get it in the car, the sooner we can get it to the venue and get home. The maid of honor needs her beauty sleep.”
Jessica carefully disassembles the cake. Placing the large bottom tier inside a flat white box and handing it to me. The middle two go in another deeper box. Amiya takes charge of it. The top tier is light, and she loads it into a small box and places it in a clear plastic bag with the dowels needed for reassembly. I lead the way to Amiya’s car, the two of them following me.
I move like I’m carrying an actual bomb.
Once we’ve delicately stacked all the parts in the back seat, I close the door gently, as if a single extra ripple will make the whole thing collapse.
“Okay,” I say, sliding into the driver’s seat. “I’ll go slow. Really slow.”
Amiya settles into the back seat beside the boxes. “Come on. I’m sure you’ve handled more delicate situations than this before, Sailor.”
“Don’t underestimate the pressure,” I reply, gripping the steering wheel. “Naomie Carrigan is scarier than any enemy I’ve ever faced.”
She rolls her eyes, but doesn’t argue.
The bakery is only a few miles from the venue, but every minute feels like an eternity. I drive at a snail’s pace, making sure to avoid every pothole and bump. Other drivers honk at me, frustrated, but I don’t care. They can fuck right off.
I hit a red light and ease to a stop. The cake sways slightly in the back seat.
“I got it,” Amiya says.
The light turns green, and I carefully accelerate, keeping my focus on the road. We’re halfway there when the sky unexpectedly darkens again. I glance up at the clouds, frowning.
“Great. Rain’s coming again,” I bite out.
Amiya shrugs. “As long as it doesn’t start to pour before we get inside, we’re good.”
But of course, as if the universe were screwing with us, the first drops begin to fall. I grip the wheel tighter, willing the rain to hold off just a little longer. The last thing we need is for the cake to get wet.
Amiya curses under her breath.
Suddenly, the car jolts, bouncing from a deep pothole I didn’t see because of the headlights reflecting on the wet road, and I slam on the brakes instinctively.
“Shit!” I exclaim, looking back at Amiya.
She’s practically wrapped herself around the teetering boxes.
“Lennon, I think I smashed the middle one,” Amiya says urgently.
I’m already unbuckling my seat belt, and I throw the car into park and jump out.
I swing open the back door. My heart drops as I see what happened.