35. Tess
THIRTY-FIVE
TESS
It’s official. I’m a starer.
No matter what anyone else does during the party, my gaze keeps returning to Ian. Across the yard kicking the soccer ball with August. Grilling our dinners at the barbecue with Jodi. Talking politely with Mom. I watch him like we’re having a staring contest he doesn’t know about, and if I look away, I’ll lose.
He’s just so happy tonight. He seemed a little disgruntled by the surprise arrival of his brother and sister-in-law, but he relaxes more and more as the evening rolls on. I can’t stop marveling over his casual friendliness with everyone. I’m a scientist observing her subject in an all-new environment, amazed by her findings.
The findings are: I am in deep .
“Uh oh,” Hope says. “Ian just asked Griffin about the best local hiking spots. They’re going to be there a while.”
Griffin, Steven, Iris, and Ian are in the yard with sodas in their hands. Ian’s nodding along while Griffin describes something. He looks over and catches me watching. When he flashes a small, slanted smile just for me, we might as well be the only ones out here.
“It’s too bad Lila’s sick,” Wren says. “I bet her new guy would love to get in on this conversation.”
I pull my attention back to my friends.
“How do we keep getting the outdoorsy ones?” Hope’s gaze darts to her fiancé as if she can’t help herself, either.
“I won’t be part of your little group.” Wren tips her nose up. “I’m holding out for an indoorsy type. A bookish guy. Someone who plays chess and drinks tea and never has grease under his fingernails.”
Hope takes a sip of soda, glancing away. That list got suspiciously detailed.
“You don’t play chess,” I point out. It’s my safest response here.
Wren makes a face at me. “It’s part of the vibe I’m looking for, though.”
August slips between me and Wren. “Mama, can we do cake and presents now?”
“Sure, buddy.” He’s been as patient as I can reasonably expect. Probably because he already had cake and presents once today. “Want to ask Ian to come to the patio?”
“Yeah!” He pumps his fist and sprints across the grass.
I go inside and pull the cake from the fridge. Wren follows me to grab plates, forks, and napkins but pauses when she sees the cake.
“That is the cutest freaking thing. Has August seen it?”
“I told him not to peek. We’ll find out by his reaction whether he resisted the urge or not.”
Outside, everyone gathers around our patio table, with Ian and August standing in the place of honor. I set the cake in front of them. It’s a strawberry-lemon cake as requested, but I kept to the dinosaur theme. I frosted the single-tier, three-layer cake in light brown buttercream and piped big, green leaves all around the outside to give it a rainforest effect. On top, I added a T-rex footprint filled with chocolate ganache.
I do know some movie references.
August slaps his hands on both cheeks when he sees the cake, his mouth forming a perfect ‘O.’ Oh, yeah. He peeked.
“Where did you buy that?” Iris asks me.
“Tess made it.” Ian sounds as proud as if he told her I’m a brain surgeon. “That’s what she does.”
I press two candles on either side of the T-rex footprint, smiling to myself.
“Seriously? This is so impressive.”
Hope slides over to her, phone out. “Check out what she made for our engagement party. Chocolate cake with mascarpone cream and salted caramel.”
Iris looks from the phone to me. “I want to eat this picture.”
“Best cake I ever had,” Griffin adds.
“Shall we sing for the birthday boys?” Mom says. I tell myself she’s just trying to keep the party going.
“One more thing.” I grab my secret stash and pass them around.
Ian exhales a playful groan when he sees the party hats. I secure one on top of August’s head and turn to him. “They’re part of the fun.”
He frowns, but his gaze is on my mouth. “I’m going to need more bribes.”
“I can do that,” I whisper, securing the elastic beneath his beard and settling the hat on his head.
I light the candles, and Ian hefts August onto his hip while we sing the birthday song to them. August tilts his head to touch Ian’s chin, smiling like a goofball and hamming it up for the phone cameras turned their way.
I take pictures too, but mostly, I just watch them. They’re so adorable together, soaking up the attention of our small group of friends. Ian locks eyes with me and winks. Pretty sure Wren and Hope hear my sigh. I am a hopeless case.
They each blow out a candle, my two birthday boys.
I slice the cake, and Wren passes out plates. My happy little heart goes on floating as everyone praises the Meyer lemon cake with strawberry cream filling.
“Oh my gosh.” Iris covers her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide. “Steven, I’m sorry. I’m leaving you to run away with this cake.”
Steven swallows his bite. “I knew a baked good would get between us one day.”
“Why aren’t these on Blackbird’s menu?” Jodi has no idea the weight behind her innocent question. “I haven’t even finished my slice, and I want another one.”
I stuff my face with cake, making eye contact with nobody. I’m planning to talk with Mom, but a joint birthday party really isn’t the time for me to put my foot down.
“We’re still working out her terms.” Wren’s saucy answer earns some laughs. “She demands a raise and a bigger workspace.”
“She deserves it.” Amy shoots a meaningful look Mom’s way.
Hope makes a strangled sound. “You’re not avoiding adding cakes to the menu because of me, right?”
Mom sets a hand on her arm. “We’re glad to have The Painted Daisy right where it is.”
Hope relaxes again and takes another bite of cake. “Thank goodness.”
She convinced Mom to sublet part of our bakery space to her a couple of years ago. Before Mom took it over, our shop was a restaurant, and the extra floor space made sense. But we never quite figured out a good use for so much room as a bakery. We’re not really an eat-in location, and so much empty space was honestly kind of dreary. Hope moving her gift shop in was the perfect solution.
Still. Sometimes it hurts that Mom believes in Hope’s small business dreams more than mine.
“Presents now?” August asks.
I wipe the chocolate frosting mustache from his upper lip. He only had a sliver of cake, but half of it made it onto his face. “Presents now.”
Mom helps me roll out the August-sized bicycle I’ve had stashed away in her garage for the last week. He puts his bike helmet with dinosaur overlay on immediately. He starts pedaling around the patio, thanks to the training wheels I had installed. Wobbling steadily from one side to the other, but he’s moving.
“That’s so perfect for him,” Wren says.
“Shepherd helped me pick everything out.”
She purses her lips, clearly torn on whether or not she still likes the bike.
August receives a few more gifts, including a giant T-rex from Ian. It roars and shrieks and even makes thudding sounds as if it’s stalking prey. He uses it to harass the squishy stuffed animal Hope gave him.
“Now Ian’s presents!” August's clutching the T-rex in one hand, the squishy in the other, still wearing his new bike helmet.
Ian tries to go all scowly on me, but it’s too late. Presents are happening whether he likes it or not.
I pass August the two packages I set aside. “Can you give these to him?”
He takes them and trots to the other side of the patio. That’s right. I’m stooping to having August deliver the gifts. Ian’s already admitted he can’t say no to him.
Ian takes them, watching me from beneath scolding eyebrows. He unwraps one like he’s trying to defuse a bomb. August was the bomb when it was his turn to unwrap presents, decimating paper in a blink.
“That one’s from Mama,” August tells him.
“Is it?” Ian moves even slower. He peels back the paper, revealing a small leather case. He pauses, staring at it in his hand.
My heart pounds, desperate to know what he thinks of it. I can’t tell if he recognizes the stamped logo on the case. He swallows. Then carefully pulls out the vintage compass.
His gaze collides with mine, holding me in place as firmly as if his arms were around me. Emotions crash across his face. Gratitude. Surprise. Affection. More . His lips part, but no words come.
I lift a shoulder. He said he was lost. I want to help him find his way.
“What is it?” August wants to know.
Ian shows it to him. I picked up the classic brass compass at a secondhand store. They said it’s a good brand, but older and scuffed. Still works exactly as intended, though.
“It’s a compass.” His voice sounds gravelly as he points at the dial. “This needle helps you figure out where you are, and where you want to go.”
“Thank goodness,” Steven says. “You were always getting clients lost on trips.”
Laughter moves around as August grabs the other present. “This one’s from me.”
He wiggles the whole time Ian unwraps it.
“A joke book.” Ian holds it up like a trophy. “Just what I needed, buddy. Thank you.”
August is pleased as can be. His focus lasts about five seconds before he asks for a fire in the fire pit. Griffin offers to help, and he follows August into the yard to inspect what we’ve got. The rest of our little group disperses, cleaning up the dessert plates or taking empty seats around the two tables.
Ian slips his hat off and makes his way over until he’s standing in front of me, staring so intently my toes curl.
“Let’s help Griffin get that fire going.” Hope pulls Wren away, glancing between the two of us.
Honestly, I barely notice them.
Ian pulls me into his arms, holding me tight as if he’s trying to fuse all my cracked and broken pieces back together. Or maybe he’s trying to fix his. He sighs against me, pressing a kiss to my neck. Joy fizzes through me like I’m made of tiny, perfect bubbles. I’m not even sure my feet touch the ground.
“Thank you,” he says softly.
When he draws back, I’m ninety percent sure he’s going to kiss me in front of our families, but he must think better of it. “Can we talk tonight?”
“Of course.” As if I’m in the mood to deny him anything.
“Great.” He squeezes my shoulders, but if he’s tempted to lean in, he doesn’t indulge.
I wouldn’t mind a little indulgence.
August calls for him to join in the fire-starting adventure. Ian hooks a thumb over his shoulder. “I’d better go help.”
He leaves to take up position around the fire pit with the others. We haven’t used it yet, and frankly, I didn’t realize we had all the supplies for a fire. But Griffin’s arranging small pieces of wood in it and using the lighter I got out for the birthday candles. In a minute, they’ve got a good fire going. The sky is fading into twilight, blue deepening to purple, making the flames glow.
Iris and Steven approach me while I’m still gazing dreamy-eyed at Ian. I try to tone it down, but I can’t do anything about how flushed I still am after our hug.
“That cake was so good,” Iris tells me. She’s got short, black hair and olive skin. Her gorgeous turquoise necklace makes her look effortlessly stylish like Lila. “I’m a wedding photographer, and I can’t tell you how many times a cake looks beautiful but tastes like it’s been frozen for a month.”
“Thank you. I still make everything fresh.” And don’t intend to ever change.
“Do you make wedding cakes too?”
I can’t help but look over at Ian. He’s talking to Griffin, with August and Dutch making cute little bookends on either side.
“That’s the plan.”
Iris follows my gaze. “We’re so happy Ian’s made a friend out here. He wasn’t very friendly when he left Colorado.”
“No.” I smile, remembering those first days. “He wasn’t very friendly when we first met, either. But he’s come out of his shell.”
Iris laughs softly. “Pretty soon, you’ll wish he would go back into his shell. Ian at full blast is a lot to handle.”
“Oh, no,” Steven puts in. “We need him at full power when he comes back.”
All the light, effervescent bubbles inside me pop at once, slamming my feet down to earth. My lungs ache like I’m breathing in cement. I keep my smile on, clinging to the fragile, sham of a thing as if it can save me from drowning.
“Is he going back soon?” I hope I sound casual, and not as if my heart is fissuring like a crinkle-topped cookie.
“As soon as possible. We’ve been waiting on him to sort himself out for two years.” Steven seems to realize just what he’s said. “I get it. He went through a lot with the accident and recovery. It’s understandable he needed to work through some things. But look at him now.”
I do. He’s smiling and happy and himself . I can’t turn around and be sad when I got exactly what I wanted. I befriended him. Maybe helped him get his spark of life back.
I dug my own grave, lay down in it, and now the dirt’s raining over on me.
My throat sticks as I swallow. “Look at him now.”
Isn’t this what he wanted when he came out here? To rest and recuperate. So he could go home to the business he built with his brothers. So he could go back to the life he worked so hard to create for himself. The life he misses every day . This was never a permanent move.
He catches my eye again, and his smile glows in the firelight. It hits me like a sucker punch. I love him, and now, I’m going to lose him.
I told myself not to sail into dangerous waters, but here I am. Shipwrecked.