I jerked my head back. “Gum?”
“Yeah. They discontinued it, so I saved my last pack.”
“Some brands last for years,” Wyatt said, twirling a fork between his fingers. “Have you ever tried the stuff made from whale blubber? It’s the best.”
Christian hooked his arm over the corner of his chair. “Do you know what happens to whales when they’re trapped?”
I pinched his leg. “Not at this party,” I hissed. Christian didn’t come with a filter, especially when it came to random animal facts that might repulse others.
He clenched his jaw and glowered at Wyatt before steering his gaze to the kitchen entryway.
Kira floated in with a three-tier cake that was the most colorful creation I’d ever seen. She had masterfully used rainbow stripes over the blue icing, and it looked like a professional cake you would order.
“I showed her a magazine,” Gem said with a deliberate nod.
Shepherd rushed to help Kira, no doubt fearing she would drop the tray. The six candles lit on top were precariously close to setting her kerchief on fire. When they reached the table, they gingerly set the cake in front of Hunter, the flames dancing, wax dripping down the candles.
Wyatt began singing “Happy Birthday” again, and even though we’d already been through this, we joined in for an encore. This time, we were loud.
Shepherd held his spot behind Hunter’s chair and quietly watched. It was near sunset, and Kira hadn’t lit the lanterns or chandelier, so the six bright candles illuminated Hunter’s enthralled face.
Claude folded his arms over the back of a chair. “Go on, little one. Make a wish and blow them out. If you wait too long, the cake will melt.”
Hunter tilted his head up and looked at Shepherd, who pressed his lips tightly together. When his father nodded in approval, Hunter leaned forward and blew out two candles. Shepherd’s eyes glistened as Hunter struggled before snuffing them all out.
His victory received a thunderous applause of palms slapping against the table.
“Finally! We can eat,” Wyatt exclaimed.
Hunter plugged his nose and waved away the smoke.
While Kira pulled the candles out of the cake, Viktor circled the table to his chair and briefly glanced at the snacks behind him, no doubt wondering where his wine collection had gone.
“We’re not drinking tonight,” I informed him, watching Shepherd hack through the beautiful cake.
Instead, Viktor filled a crystal glass with punch and took his seat.
With a stuffed cat on his lap and toys within reach, Hunter nibbled his dessert and then fed cake to his dinosaur. He tried putting one of Blue’s carved figures into his box, but it wouldn’t fit. Shepherd dragged his chair next to his boy, his elbow on the table and his fist tucked against his cheek as he watched Hunter delight in all his goodies.
“Was your phone call a job offer?” I asked Viktor hopefully.
“That was… personal call.” A smile touched his lips. “I’ve made plans to dine with the enchanting Miss Parrish.”
“Lenore?” Had I been eating, I would have choked on my food. “Do you normally go out to dinner with your associates to talk business?”
“This is not work related, and she is the one who invited me.”
Christian’s chair scraped against the floor as he scooted back and got up.
Gem walked around the table to hand Viktor his cake and then set a plate in front of me. “You have a date, Viktor? Do tell.”
Blue scooted over to Christian’s chair. “Isn’t that a conflict of interest to have a personal relationship with someone who contracts work for us?”
Christian returned from the punch bowl and handed me a glass. “Perhaps you should find yourself a lass who will let you wear the pants. That one is all trousers.”
Gem frowned as she sat in her chair. “Since when are men the only ones allowed to ask someone out? That’s an archaic ritual with no purpose except to assert that women should have no power over what happens in their lives. Good for you, Viktor.”
“Women complain that chivalry is dead.” Wyatt licked icing off his fork. “But the minute you go old school with chivalry, they call you a chauvinistic asshole.”
“Maybe that’s because you are an asshole,” Blue retorted. “Ever thought of that?”
He swallowed his bite. “All I’m saying is that women never ask me out, so I’m the one doing all the work.”
“That doesn’t help prove your case,” Blue countered.
“Whatever you say, bird lady. If a woman’s pretty, I let her know it. But I treat them with respect. Ask Claude.”
“It’s true,” Claude said from across the table. “Wyatt speaks to females with respect. It’s what he does with his eyeballs that I have an issue with.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Wyatt shoveled a large bite into his mouth.
“Aye, you don’t have any control over your leering ways,” Christian agreed. “Those eyeballs of yours would incinerate if splashed with holy water.”
“Can we change the subject?” Gem snatched a candy ring from the table and put it on her finger. Instead of eating it, she admired it as if it were a real ruby.
We kept the conversation light and let Hunter play with all his toys for about an hour before Kira served spaghetti and meatballs. Because it was a special occasion, she and Switch stayed in the room, though they chose to sit in one of the booths. Normally they ate at a different time so they wouldn’t overhear sensitive discussions we had about work.
I wasn’t sure where Wyatt put it all, but after gobbling up ten cookies, he enjoyed two helpings of dinner. Hunter nibbled on everything, but he was too excited to sit still and eat his entire dinner. I’d given him a giant bottle of bubbles—which he blew on everyone—and a kite. I figured since we had plenty of land behind the mansion, a kite would give Shepherd some father-and-son time with him.
“You seem a million miles away,” Christian said, his arm around me, his chair scooted close.
I stared at the empty plates and cake crumbs on the table, listening to everyone in the gathering room as Hunter played with his new toys. “I’m just tired.”
“Nightmares?”
I shut my eyes. The nightmares used to be about Fletcher chaining me to a wall, but now those dreams mingled with darkness, a coffin, and suffocation. “I think I just need a new mattress.”
“Don’t be fibbing. I haven’t brought up your burial since that night, but if you want to talk about it, I’m your man. I’ve been there. I’ve done that.”
I tugged on his fingers that rested over my shoulder. “Talking about it doesn’t make it go away. It doesn’t make me feel better. What would make me feel better is finding the person who did it.”
“And what would you do? Spoon out their eyes?”
I flicked his palm. “I want to know why they did it. If they’re getting back at me for something, if I know this person…”
Christian sighed melodically. “You’re too young to appreciate patience. You can’t let something like this consume your every thought, or you’ll never enjoy your life. Put all those emotions stirring inside you on the back burner.”