“We should wait around and watch the celebration,” I noted.
“Don’t need to.”
“It’d be cool to see.”
“Sure it would, woman, still don’t need to see it.”
I turned my head to look back at the building getting smaller in the distance.
It was the fourth one we’d been to and the last one we were going to. Each one, if they had security, Deacon disabled it with his secret Deacon ways before we sat and watched it, waited until the front area was vacant, then he walked in with his bag and dropped it on the reception desk.
This building had a sign over it that said Sacred Heart Healing Center.
It was a non-profit drug rehabilitation center.
And moments ago, the receptionist hit her desk and found a bag filled with half a million dollars in cash and a note that said it was an anonymous gift given in the name of one who had surrendered.
He’d given away two million dollars to four charitable drug rehab clinics.
He was keeping the rest for a rainy day.
Did I say I loved my man?
I loved my man.
* * * * *
I heard it so I grinned, bent, grabbed the tray with my oven-gloved hand, pulled it out of the oven, and walked out of the kitchen, both Bossy and Priest at my heels.
I kept hold of the tray while I reached out and opened the door.
Bossy raced out in front of me. Priest followed, floppy ears bouncing, mostly galloping.
I strolled out, stopping at the top of the steps, looking down them to Deacon dismounting a shiny, black, totally kickass, vintage Harley-Davidson motorcycle.
He gave Bossy a rubdown, snatched up Priest, then came up the steps to me.
He nabbed a cookie from the tray even if it was still hot. And apparently, badasses didn’t get their mouths burned on hot snickerdoodles since he popped it into his mouth and immediately started chewing.
“Looks nice,” I noted about the bike after he swallowed hot cookie.
“Gettin’ you an apron,” he replied strangely.
“Sorry?”
“You in an apron, makin’ me cookies.”
I rolled my eyes.
When I rolled them back, he was grinning.
“Take off your jeans, top, bra, panties, keep the apron on, fuck you against the kitchen counter.”
My legs started trembling.
That I could do.
“Though,” he said reflectively, “might keep on the panties but pulled down around your thighs.”