“So, where is the birthday boy?” Bobbie asks, looking around with a frown.
“Dad took him out, so we could all surprise him when they get back.”
“Ohh.” She grins. “That’ll be fun.”
I sure hope so. But it won’t be much of a party without the damn cake.
“Can you excuse me for a minute? I have to call Amelia and see where the hell she’s at.” And maybe call Hayden, too.
“No problem.” Bobbie smiles and I head back to the front of the house for some privacy. I just get Amelia’s contact up on my phone when the front door opens and she skates in with a big bakery box in hand.
“I have cake!” she announces with a cheery grin. I can’t see her eyes because they’re hidden behind a big ass pair of sunglasses, but she can sure as hell see the daggers I’m shooting with mine.
“You’re late,” I grumble, and her smile widens.
“All that matters is I’m here.” She keeps moving past, slowing down just long enough to whisper, “My guest. You said it was cool, right?”
“Huh?”
Before she can answer, Hayden steps into the house wearing a sheepish smile and a coral sundress that dries my mouth faster than a whiskey hangover.
I thought she looked good in those leggings last night, but bare legs and a short dress? Jesus H. Christ.
“Hi,” she offers sweetly, her purse clutched in front of her with both hands. “I hope you don’t mind.”
I wish I would have known—fucking Amelia—but I don’t mind. “Not at all. Did you run into Amelia in town or...?”
Her smile flips to a frown. “Wait, you didn’t know I was coming?”
I tuck my hands into the pockets of my jeans and shake my head. “No, but it’s not a big deal.”
Her face goes pale and she blinks fast, looking anywhere but at me. “Oh, Jesse, I’m so sorry. I thought—”
“Hey, it’s fine.” I close the distance between us to keep everyone else from hearing the conversation and embarrassing her any more than she already is. “He’ll be glad to see you.”
Color seeps into her cheeks and she ventures a glance up at me. “I feel so stupid right now. I mean, this is a family party and I’m—”
“Family.” I have no idea why—maybe I’m feeling brave after her kiss last night—but I reach up and tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re family and you should be here. In fact, I was actually just about to text and ask if you wanted to come. I thought about it last night, but didn’t want you to feel obligated. Not asking didn’t feel right, either.”
She wets her glossy lips and swallows. “Thanks. I, um, don’t want to intrude, but seeing him last night and not being able to hug him…” She breaks off with a shrug.
“I get it.” I smile and tip my head toward the kitchen. “Ma is going to flip when she sees you.”
She laughs nervously. “It’s been a while.”
“That doesn’t matter.” My mom knows almost everything there is to know about what happened with me and Hayden. What I didn’t tell her, she figured out on her own because that’s what moms do and she’s never held it against Hayden. In fact, no one in my family has, except for maybe Aiden, who’s skeptical of everyone by nature.
I lead her to the kitchen and, as expected, Ma does a double take, her eyes going as wide as the saucepan lid she’s holding in her hand. She drops the lid, grabs a towel to wipe her hands, and hurries across the room with open arms.
“Oh, my goodness! Look who’s here!” Ma wraps her arms around Hayden’s shoulders, and Hayden hugs her back, laughing through it all. “Jesse...” My mother swats at my arm when they break apart. “How come you didn’t tell me she was coming?”
“That’s on me,” Amelia interrupts, raising her hand. “For once, it’s not Jesse’s fault.”
Becca and Bobbie snort simultaneously, and I roll my eyes.
“I hope you have room for one more?” Hayden asks with that sweet uncertainty again.
“Well, of course, we do,” Ma scoffs. “There’s always room, but I can’t promise I won’t put you to work.”
Hayden’s eyes light up. “Just tell me what you need. And, actually, that reminds me… I know there’s cake for today, but I brought a pie. Maybe for Al during the week?”
The collective intake of air from everyone in the room is audible. Amelia’s eyes meet mine and I know she’s thinking the same thing I am: no one brings pie into Janice Enders’ kitchen.
Yet, my mother smiles. “Absolutely. What kind did you make?”
“Just caramel apple.”
Amelia chokes on her own saliva, and even Bobbie and Becca step away from the island, edging closer to the patio in case all hell breaks loose.
But Ma merely presses her lips together sweetly. “Jesse, dear, could you grab the pie while we catch up?”
Seriously? No shit show?
Hayden bats her lashes over her shoulder. “Do you mind? It’s on my passenger seat.”
I nod, but hesitate before I go, speaking lowly, just for her. “It’s not my pie, is it?”
She smiles, a playful gleam in her eyes. “No, frat boy, yours is still at home.”
Frat boy, huh? I like it.
HAYDEN
“Mama, come and play, please.”
I glance away from Jesse’s mom and his cousin Bobbie Jean, as Jett tugs at my hand almost two hours into the party. A small part of me had been worried that my presence, after not seeing him for so long, would take away from his overall excitement about the birthday gathering. But, aside from a gigantic hug when he first saw me, he has kept busy with his cousins and Jesse and, if I’m honest, witnessing those father-son moments has made coming today worth every bit of apprehension I’d had about it.
“Sure, sweetie, I’d love to play.” I squeeze his hand and shoot a smile to the ladies. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m needed at the game table.”
Janice’s grin slides from me to Jett. “It’s nice having your mom here with us, isn’t it?”
He nods adamantly and my heart melts a little as he leads me to the game table.
“You sit here,” Jett instructs, pulling out a chair for me in front of the M&M game. Bless his heart, he even attempts to push my seat in once I’ve sat. “Gotta scoop up the M&M’s and dump them. See…” He demonstrates with serious concentration before sliding the props my way.
“Wow, this looks hard.” I bite my lip. “What happens if I spill the candy?”
“You get to eat ‘em!” He grins brightly.
“I do?” I make a show of accidentally dumping the bucket full of M&M’s just shy of the Styrofoam sandbox. “Whoops!”
His little laugh turns into a full-bellied chortle. “Mama, not like that!”
“No?” I pop a couple of the chocolates into my mouth and wrinkle my nose. “Seems like a win to me.” He facepalms and I laugh, too.
“Jett, your mom clearly doesn’t have a CDL.” Jesse sidles up to the table with a bottle of beer in hand. My attention glides from his long fingers and meaty grip to the thick, tattooed forearm that’s attached. A shiver slips down my spine and I pretend to shrug to cover it up.