Accidentally Yours Chapter 56

**Lola**

The SUV hummed along the freeway, the miles to LA ticking down in the dashboard glow. Gino drove with one hand on the wheel and the other wrapped around an oversized gas station coffee, his sunglasses low enough to glance at her in the rearview. Dom was in the passenger seat, reclined like the ride was a personal limo instead of a security detail.

They’d spent the past week circling each other with playful jabs, turning guarded tolerance into something closer to camaraderie.

“So explain this again,” Dom said, twisting in his seat to face her. “We’re going to an art thing… for tattoos… and half the people there will be drunk?”

Lola grinned. “It’s an expo. And yes. And don’t pretend you’re not excited about the free booze.”

Gino snorted. “We’re not there to drink. We’re there to keep you from getting murdered by… whatever kind of crowd you attract.”

“They’re worse than you think,” she said. “Sharp objects, champagne, zero impulse control. It’s basically a gladiator arena with better lighting.”

Dom pointed at her. “See? This is why Enzo sent us—because you make that sound fun.”

“That’s because it is fun.” She popped a grape in her mouth. “You two are gonna have a blast.”

They were still laughing when her phone buzzed in her hand. She glanced down, and her smirk deepened. A few minutes earlier, she’d sent Enzo the wedding video—the one where he slid the ring onto her finger like he’d been waiting his whole life, and she’d looked at him like she’d been waiting too.

Enzo: "So… we’ve been married this entire time."

She bit her lip, thumbs flying.

Lola: "Don’t sound so surprised, husband. I make a great wife."

Enzo: "You make me want to get on a plane right now."

***God, I miss him. Miss his hands. His mouth. That way he looked at me like I was trouble he’d never survive but would go down fighting for anyway.***

Lola: "I’ll make it worth the wait."

Enzo: "You’d better."

“Uh-oh,” Dom said, watching her smile at her phone. “She’s got the ‘Enzo just texted me’ face.”

“I do not,” she shot back.

“You absolutely do,” Gino said. “Eyes go soft. Mouth does that little curve thing. You’re thinking about him naked right now, aren’t you?”

She leveled a look at him. “You want me to describe it? Because I can. In detail.”

Gino groaned. Dom laughed so hard he almost lost his gum.

Lola leaned back, the phone still warm in her palm, already more impatient for this trip to be over—because when Enzo came home, she was going to make damn sure he knew exactly how much she’d missed him.

The SUV ate up the miles, Gino’s playlist shamelessly swinging from 90s rap to something that sounded suspiciously like stripper anthems. The sun was setting, bleeding gold and pink through the windows, and Lola was stretched in the backseat like she owned it—legs kicked over the center console, phone in hand, smile just this side of wicked.

“Truth or dare,” she announced.

Dom twisted in his seat to give her a look. “We’re really doing this?”

She smirked. “Fine—truth or coward?”

***I was restless. And when I’m restless, I get dangerous. And when I get dangerous, I drag everyone with me.***

Gino caught her grin in the mirror. “Alright, little menace. You start.”

“Dom,” she said, pointing like she’d just drawn his number in a firing squad, “truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

Her smirk sharpened. “Next car we pass, you’re mooning them. Full cheeks. None of this shy, ‘oops you caught me’ crap. I want the whole sunrise.”

Dom’s eyes went wide. “We’re on the freeway.”

“Yeah. That’s the point.”

Gino was already wheezing. “Do it. You can’t back down now.”

They pulled up alongside a silver sedan, and Dom—muttering like he was walking to his own execution—unbuckled, rolled the window down, and in one smooth, shameless move, hung his bare ass into the wind.

The sedan’s horn blared, a phone popped up in the passenger seat, and someone inside laughed so hard they almost dropped it.

Lola was doubled over, tears streaking her cheeks. “Oh my God, I am immortalizing this.”

Dom climbed back in, buckled, and glared at her. “Your turn, trouble.”

“Dare.” No hesitation.

Gino’s grin was pure sin. “Text Enzo something so filthy it’d make the devil say ‘ma’am.’ Then you read us whatever he sends back.”

***Oh, baby… you’re just handing me ammo.***

She didn’t even blink as her thumbs flew:

"What do you call it when I’m sitting on your face, holding the headboard like it’s the only thing keeping me from falling apart—grinding slow until you grab my hips and make me fall anyway? Asking for a friend."

Dom made a choking sound. “Jesus Christ.”

She hit send, locked her phone, and lounged back like a cat who’d just knocked something expensive off the counter.

The reply came in less than a minute. Her lips curled slow and lethal as she read it out loud:

"Oh, kitten… I call it nirvana. And you’ve been stacking sins all week—phone sex, that picture, the Burning Man shots, the teasing. You think I won’t remember every single one when I get home? I’m not just going to make you fall again, I’m going to keep you there—pinned, trembling, begging—until ‘Daddy’ is the only word left in your vocabulary. Your legs? Useless. Bones melted into pure liquid. And your hair will be so wrecked I’ll need a hairdresser on standby just to make you presentable enough to ruin again."

The SUV went silent.

Dom adjusted in his seat. Gino coughed like his throat had given out.

Lola slid her phone into her lap, every inch of her smug and humming with heat. “Yup. I win.”

By the time the LA skyline burned against the night, the air in the SUV was molten—laced with too much laughter, too much heat, and the kind of trouble that came with a body count.

Lola was upside down in the back seat—legs hooked over the headrest, hair brushing the floor mat—absolutely obliterating Gino in Battleship.

“B4,” he guessed.

She smirked, tapping her screen. “Miss. Again. You’re terrible at this.”

“Cheater.”

“Strategist,” she corrected, flicking a glance up at him. “You’re just mad I’ve sunk your destroyer, submarine, and your will to live.” 

Dom, now behind the wheel after the last gas station swap, snorted. “If I have to listen to one more game of you two trash-talking like this, I’m pulling over and making you walk.”

She stretched her arms over her head, the world still upside down. “Fine. But I’m bored. Are we there yet?”

“Another five minutes, menace,” Gino said, aiming for calm but smiling anyway.

Five more minutes felt like an eternity. Her mind was already skipping ahead to the expo tomorrow—ink, lights, cameras, and every tattoo artist trying to out-hot each other like it was a blood sport.

***And if I’m not winning, what’s even the point?***

The SUV finally rolled to a stop in front of a sleek glass building, city lights spilling over the chrome like it was gift-wrapped just for them.

“Hotel time,” Dom announced, climbing out.

Lola righted herself and hopped out behind him, practically bouncing into the lobby. The air smelled like polished marble and money she didn’t have to spend.

They reached the front desk, Dom handling check-in while Gino leaned on the counter like it was his natural habitat.

“Alright,” the receptionist said, tapping a few keys. “We have you all in the executive suite—two bedrooms, shared living area.”

Lola’s head snapped up. “Wait. We’re all staying together?”

“Yeah,” Gino said, grabbing the key cards. “Problem?”

Her grin stretched slow and wicked. “Not even a little. Now you two can help me pick tomorrow’s outfit.”

Dom groaned. “Oh no—”

“Oh yes,” she cut in, already picturing the lineup on the bed. “You’re going to rate every option. Like a panel of very judgmental judges.”

And maybe, just maybe, I’d make them blush so hard they couldn’t look me in the eye until the expo was over.