His to Take (Wicked Lovers #9)(55)
Author: Shayla Black

Joaquin had no idea what this was about, but anything to stop pacing the same twelve-by-twelve area would be a blessing. “Sure.”

He followed Sean down the hall, past Thorpe’s empty office, then out of the secure area and into the public dungeon space. Immediately, his blood boiled. Was the place open? Probably, since he could hear voices. Goddamn it, Bailey had shown her face and risked herself again. What for this time? Knowing that spanking her was off the table really chafed.

But as he drew closer, light from the dungeon spilled into the hallway. Someone turned on a catchy pop tune, then the scraping of metal against the floor filled his ears. When he and Sean turned the corner and Joaquin entered the room, he stopped.

The only people inside were Callie, Bailey, and Axel. The pretty brunette climbed on top of a ladder and Bailey handed a bright blue streamer up to her. In fact, the whole room was filled with multicolored paper swagged from the corners of the ceiling, tables laden with food, and lots of balloons. To one side, a multi-tiered cake with plastic handcuffs sported a big number “40” in black icing.

“Italian cream?” Axel asked, pointing at the cake.

Callie nodded. “His favorite.”

“What the hell is this?” Joaquin barked.

Everyone in the room turned. Callie frowned.

“A birthday party.” Sean leaned in. “We needed one more tall person to finish hanging streamers and we’re running out of time. He’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”

“Who?” Annoyance jabbed Joaquin. He didn’t know anyone here and didn’t give a shit about milestones right now unless it saved Bailey’s life. The distraction from his purpose bothered him.

“Thorpe.” Callie stared at him, her expression daring him to say a word or refuse.

Since the man had given him a safe place to stash Bailey, he didn’t. Forcing himself to relax, he nodded. “Sure. It’s his fortieth birthday?”

“Today.”

“On April Fool’s Day?” Were they kidding?

“Isn’t it funny?” Sean was obviously having a good laugh from the situation.

“He ordered me not to give him a surprise party, but who doesn’t play a practical joke every April first?” Callie flashed him a mischievous smile.

Joaquin couldn’t remember the last time he’d celebrated a birthday with anyone, much less his own. Years and years ago. Hell, he’d turned thirty roaming a south Texas swamp, wearing night vision goggles and dodging bullets. He hadn’t remembered that he’d turned another year older until two days later. If he hadn’t been on a mission, who would he have spent his evening with? Joaquin mentally listed his friends. It took about two seconds. None of them were the birthday party type. Even Nate, the only person he’d been close to in years, might have offered him a beer at most. They would have spent the evening talking shop.

As Joaquin studied the room, he felt almost . . . envious. Thorpe was surrounded by people who loved him. That had never mattered much to Joaquin, but now he wondered what he’d been missing.

“Here you go.” Sean clapped him on the back, then handed him a roll of white streamers and some tape. “In the far corner. It looks like Callie and Axel have this side covered.”

Within three minutes, he and Sean had hung the last of the decorations from the ceiling. Callie checked the cake again, arranging the plates and forks, then glanced through the snacks and drinks on the nearby table. Axel brought out a bag of ice from the kitchen, and Bailey helped him dump it into a freezer behind the bar.

The atmosphere was festive, full of anticipation. Joaquin frowned, feeling out of place.

“I think that’s everything.” Callie looked around the room in satisfaction. “I wish everyone would hurry up and get here.”

“Everyone?” he questioned.

Sean’s phone dinged with a text message.

“Is it him?” Callie asked.

“No,” he murmured, reading his phone. “The Edgingtons. They’ll be here in less than five.”

“Hunter and Logan?” Joaquin asked.

“And their wives.”

“My sister is coming?” He looked around the room. Beyond the tables and the decorations, the play equipment still stood—a spanking bench, that big cross thing, a padded table. Whips, floggers, crops, and other shit he couldn’t identify hung all over the wall. “She doesn’t belong here.”

Callie slanted him a wry glance. “Her membership says she does.”

“The Santiago brothers and their wife aren’t far behind them.”

“Good.” Callie pressed trembling hands to her stomach. “I’ll get all my questions answered.”