One Funeral (No Weddings #2)(26)
Cade gave Kristen an imperceptible headshake, diffusing the situation, then took both of our hands and pulled us back into the energetic party. She accepted his warning without saying a word, the communication between the eldest and youngest Michaelsons apparently very strong on the telepathic end of the spectrum.
And although I felt a little deflated that he didn’t say anything, he had touched me and risked our being discovered in a very public way. Relief washed through me when Kristen turned to me, smiling as if nothing happened. At least she wasn’t angry.
“We need you to cut the cake. The natives are getting restless,” she quipped as we approached the back buffet table.
Kiki nodded. “And hungry.”
Kendall handed me the slicing knife. “They’re just lightheaded and grumpy, because their blood’s been stuck south for hours.”
Taking a deep breath, I smiled and got back into the present moment and out of my head. As I held the knife, I surveyed the cake, determining where to make the first cut. Rather than mess up the part everyone most wanted to see, I started at the far end, deciding the crowd could be cannibalistic from the feet up.
“You’ve outdone yourself, Hannah. How do you come up with these creative ideas?” Kiki swiped a finger along the sugared “sand” frosting.
“Thanks.” I beamed a smile at Kiki as I cut pieces while she rotated in plates. Cade and his other two sisters took turns running the plates around the room to the guests. “I don’t know. Same as you with your art, I guess. You stare at the blank canvas until inspiration takes shape, then you go with the flow of it. This one was actually easier than most. I imagined what guys would want to stare at—besides a naked, spread-eagled centerfold.”
Kiki laughed. “Well, you teased them just enough with the design. Were it not for the actual jiggle-and-giggle fest, they’d be gawking at the cake.”
As I began cutting slices from the other leg, I took a fresh look at the cake through an observer’s eyes. Across tan sand that sparkled with sugar crystals, a red hermit crab crawled toward the edge where ocean foam began. And on the sand, lying on her stomach, was a shapely woman in a thong bikini. The turquoise-blue string of the bikini slipped in between the tight globes of her ass, then tied into loose bows along her hips. The bikini top was undone, the ties in disarray on the sand beside the swells of her breasts where they pressed down into the sand. Her face was turned to the side, eyes closed, and her blond hair flowed over her shoulders.
The artful cake was about as lifelike as one could get with flour and sugar.
A sudden flash of movement barreled my way, someone racing by then flying in the air. I jumped backward, and Kiki and I got knocked sideways, dishes and cake slices flying. Seconds later, Cade tackle-hugged me, grabbing the knife, ensuring I didn’t impale anyone.
Blinking, my heart pounding hard in my chest, I glanced back at the cake table. Dwight had landed facedown into cake-chick’s ass.
I gaped.
Kiki coughed. “Is he…eating…her ass?”
The entire party broke out in raucous laughter while Dwight gobbled and snorted in a feasting frenzy.
“No wonder he’s still single,” Kendall mumbled from beside us, her hand over her mouth, eyes wide.
The bunnies didn’t seem to mind. Two jumped on the table with him. Then he began eating cake off their breasts with obnoxious licking and sucking sounds. A loud crack sounded, and the next instant, the entire back half of the buffet table collapsed; Dwight, bunnies, cake, and all slid down onto the floor.
Kristen groaned. “Cade, please make sure there are no wardrobe malfunctions. Or orgies. Kick them out of the barn if you have to, but please, we do events. Not prostitution.”
Cade laughed. “Got it covered, sis.”
“And by ‘covered,’ you mean ‘taken care of’ so we don’t get arrested, or need a hazmat team here in the morning, right?”
Chunks of cake began flying through the air. Cade busted up laughing when one hit Kristen in the left boob. His smile vanished when another piece hit him square in the face.
I snorted, laughing. But my amusement vanished when he wiped off the side of his face and took aim at me. “Oh, no you don’t.” I shook my head, backing up.
Without thinking, I tore off in the only direction of escape, straight toward the cake melee. I slid through icing smear and crashed into the mess of cake and bodies, squealing. Seconds later, Cade knelt next to me and plastered me in the face with his cake bomb.
Everyone joined in the food fight, racing around and tagging stragglers who’d managed to avoid direct hits, until no cake or person had been left untouched. We looked like refugees from a rainbow war.
It was the best birthday bunny bash ever.
The morning after Dwight’s epic bunny bash, the rush of deliveries to restaurants and hotels for their Easter brunches and egg hunts had me, Chloe, and Daniel sprinting around town like our asses were on fire. By the time Sunday night finally came, I was beyond exhausted.
Cade suggested we order in Chinese food instead of cooking, and I almost fell to my knees in thanks. During dinner, the boys kept up their end of the conversation, plus filled in for mine with understanding smiles. Me? I mostly grunted and groaned.
On the fringes of my awareness, I knew Cade was cooling it again in front of his friends, keeping his distance from me, barely touching. But the rigors of the day and a second glass of dry Riesling helped mellow my concerns about it by several degrees.