Page 8 of Revenge Puck

“But you think it’ll burn his bread if it’s me with you?”

“Yes. Exactly. Nobody likes burnt bread, right?”

He takes a deep breath that rolls his barrel chest up and down then mumbles something that sounds like, “Fine.”

“Fine?” I repeat to make sure I heard him correctly.

“Do you want your picture with me or not, cupcake?” he huffs.

“Cupcake?” I repeat in a whisper, not sure if I should be insulted or not.

“Yeah, you look all cute and innocent, but I’m not the least bit tempted for a taste because I hate sugary sweets.”

“You hate sugary sweets?” I say in disbelief, refusing to think too much about how he basically just said he’s not attracted to me. It’s not like I care. I’m not asking him on a date, just for a quick picture.

“You’ve got three seconds to get your ass over here if you want your photo.”

“Oh. So, like, you’re actually going to do this?”

“If you stop talking long enough to get it over with. I’ve got a game to get ready for, you know.”

“Right. Sorry.”

“Let her through, Steve.”

“Thank you so much!” I exclaim as the annoyed guard opens the gate to allow me inside the parking lot.

“Move it,” Preston says, so I hustle over to stand next to him.

My finger trembles as I press the icon on my phone’s screen to pull up the camera app. Then I hold it out, trying to get us both on the screen. But Preston is nearly a foot taller than myfive-seven, so it’s impossible to get both of our heads in the frame at the same time.

“Ah, maybe you could stoop down or hold up my phone?” I suggest.

“You mind, Steve?” Preston asks the security guard. But the guard just stands there staring at him, frozen in place. “Steve?”

“You’re serious? You’re going to take a picture withher?”

The woolly mammoth growls low and threatening in answer. The sound causes an internal shiver that vibrates deep inside of me.

“You’re not gonna punch me, are you?” the guard asks softly, like he knows his life is in jeopardy.

“Just take the damn photo!”

Woo-boy. He gives him a command in a booming daddy voice that I would never, ever tolerate.

Except maybe in the bedroom.

Fine, definitely in the bedroom.

“Yes, sir,” the guard finally replies before his daddy sends him to his room without dessert. He holds out his hand for my phone that’s trembling more than my own.

“Thanks,” I tell him, a little smug that Preston not only agreed to the picture with me, but he also yelled at him.

What I wasn’t expecting was for Preston to wrap his arm around my shoulders, pulling me close enough to his side that I can feel his warmth through his suit. He smells good, like, ah, warm laundry right out of the dryer and…sweet vengeance.

“Ah, okay. I got a few,” the guard says. I hope my eyes weren’t closed in all of them because I was too busy sniffing the man.

“Thank you both,” I tell them as I scroll through the images, making sure our heads both made the cut. “Do you mind if I post one of these online?” I ask while trying to decide which one to use.

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