At that moment, Alec texted that they were pulling around the back, prompting Leila to gather everyone. Avoiding the front entrance was purposeful, just in case some curious teenagers were milling around outside wondering why their favorite hangout was closed for the day.
A few minutes later, the metal door swung open and Camilla came through, holding Alivia’s hand.
“Surprise!” we all shouted, and sure enough the look on my daughter’s face was one I’d never forget. Nor would I forget how beautiful Camilla looked. Ditching the usual shorts and T-shirt, Camilla had on a pale-yellow dress that hugged her perfectly. She had also attired Alivia in an adorable summer dress of her own with watermelons scattered on the fabric. But on their feet were yet more pairs of coordinating Chucks.
“For me?” she asked, glancing up at her mother and then toward me.
“Yes, sweetheart. It’s a party for you.”
She took notice of our birthday hats and the themed balloons swaying from the cool air flowing out of the AC vents. “But it’s not my birthday.”
I squatted before her and cupped her face. “Today is August fourth, so it’s your half birthday.”
“It is?” Her mouth gaped open in awe. “So, I’m six and a half today?”
“Yep. Happy half birthday!”
She threw her hands around my neck while everyone clapped. All the little ones rushed forward to grant their own birthday wishes, forcing me to quickly stand and move a few steps away or risk being trampled.
During the chaos that ensued, Camilla watched Alivia practically gushing with joy. But once again, while Alivia’s attention was elsewhere, Camilla’s troubled expression returned. When her big brown eyes slid my way and caught me watching her, she darted them away.
These past few weeks, Camilla had been quiet. Like now, smiling when around Alivia, but more reserved when we were alone. I always asked if she was okay, or if there were any concerns she had that I wasn’t privy to. She assured me our daughter was just fine and not to be concerned.
I believed her regarding Alivia but knew something was off when it came to Camilla.
After the party, I had arranged for Leila to take Alivia for the night. That would grant Alivia her wish to have a playdate with Jack and Leila’s kids while giving me some alone time with Camilla. Maybe she’d open up a bit, as she had during our walk on the beach.
I thought about that evening often, especially the kiss. I wasn’t sure if that was the reason Camilla had suddenly become distant toward me or if it was her admission to Debbie on that call I’d overheard. If she indeed had feelings for me, knowing her as well as I had could mean that she was fighting them. In that, I could relate.
I myself have been plagued with all sorts of compromising dreams starring Camilla. And every time I saw her, the attraction I constantly tamped down tried to slink its way to the surface… just like now.
Her flirty dress not only showcased her ridiculously sexy body but also displayed those toned, tan legs that I imagined wrapped around my—
“Hey,” she said, snapping me out of my fantasy. Shit, I hadn’t even noticed that she’d closed the distance between us. “A little birdie told me it’s your birthday.”
“I wonder who.” We both looked over at Leila at the same time. “She was supposed to keep her mouth shut. I plan on having a little talk with her later.”
Camilla giggled. “Don’t yell at her. She means well.”
“I can’t make that promise.” The grin on my face meant I wasn’t serious.
“Well, happy birthday. Alivia should know. It would make her so happy.”
“Yeah, okay,” I said reluctantly.
For obvious reasons, celebrating my birthday was something I hadn’t done in a few years. A memory of Tara holding a guitar-shaped birthday cake popped into my head. It was my thirtieth, and I made her promise me she wouldn’t throw a party. So instead, she’d asked Leila to throw one, claiming it was a loophole since I never specified that someone else couldn’t.
While we silently stood side by side watching the excitement a few feet away, I couldn’t help but compare Camilla to Tara. Physically, they couldn’t be more different… but one thing they had in common was their ability to capture my attention when it defied logic.
Suddenly, the party coordinator announced it was face-painting time, and the cheers became deafening. “You think they’re excited?” I asked with a smirk.
“I’d say.” Surprisingly, she placed a hand on my arm. “Let’s go watch our daughter have fun.”
Our daughter… I’d never tire of Camilla including me in that equation. And I wasn’t sure if it was her touch or those words that sent an electrical zip right through me.
Somehow, I suspected it was both.
After the party, Camilla, Alivia, and I were driven back to my apartment, where she excitedly opened her presents, including the one from me… her bedroom at my place.
Although it’d been weeks since her room was all done, she had yet to see it. As she bounced from one thing to another, exclaiming a thank-you over and over, I leaned against the doorway with a smug smile, arms folded while ignoring Camilla’s glare. It couldn’t be because of the bedroom, because she had seen it weeks ago. It most likely had to do with the new additions I’d added since then—specifically a desk complete with enough art supplies to repaint the Sistine Chapel, along with a state-of-the-art laptop.
Once we’d dropped Alivia off at the Lairs,’ with promises to be there for the pancake feast in the morning, Camilla and I returned to my apartment as a deafening silence stretched between us.
“Okay…” I finally said, locking the door behind me and flipping on the lights. “Let it out. I know you’re busting at the seams.”
“What happened to running things by me first?” she asked, not bothering to hide her annoyance.
“That can’t be why you’re so pissy, because you had just as much fun today as everyone else.” I walked toward my fridge and grabbed a bottle of water for me and wine for her. “How about we don’t use that as an excuse for your attitude lately.”
“I don’t have an attitude.” She watched me pour, remaining silent. When I handed her a glass of the white that she loved, her scowl softened just a tiny bit.
“Yes, you do. Ever since the beach you’ve been…” Pausing to carefully choose my word, I smirked and said, “Reticent.”
“No, I haven’t.” Her gaze followed my path into the living room, where I plopped down into my favorite chair. I had no intention of saying anything else for a while. I had learned through experience that providing just a nibble of information would soon have her opening up on her own accord.
And sure enough, she stormed toward me and said, “You can’t make this about me, Trey.”
“But it is about you.”
“No, this is about you trying to cram six years of missed birthdays and Christmases into a few weeks! Not only is she trying to adjust to having a father for the first time in her life but showering her with materialistic things is only going to create unhealthy expectations that I can’t compete with. It’s not fair to me.”
As I remained silent, she predictably continued, “Look, what you did today for her was very sweet. She had such a nice time, and yes, so did I. But renting out an entire business for her to have a party? That’s insane. And you couldn’t end it there. You had to go even further with all the gifts?”