Chapter Five

The truth was, though, that he’d totally given in to her about three months after she started working at Curves. It had been his birthday coming up, and the other staff had been threatening to buy him a few shots on the big day. Curtis had been his usual silent self on the whole damn subject. He didn’t have any plans to celebrate his birthday then because he never had any plans, and he'd seen no real reason to start. If the guys and the ladies wanted to throw a few shots his way, he’d take them, he supposed. But that was hardly a celebration, and that had been just fine with him.

He should have known that Tessa would have other ideas.

She showed up that night with a homemade cake, complete with a candle and his name written in icing on the pale yellow frosting. She'd given it to him in the staffroom when they were alone; she’d instinctively known not to make a big, public deal about it, and that had made him love her even more.

He'd stared down at the cake, blinking in shock. She'd waited, her glorious hair curling all around her perfect face.

“You – you made this?” he'd finally said, more abruptly than he'd intended. “From scratch?”

“Yes.”

“For me?”

She'd smiled at him. “It’s your name on the cake, Curtis. Happy birthday.”

He'd stared down at it again, touched beyond belief. It had been a long, long time since anyone had given him anything freely, with an open hand. It had been even longer since anyone had done something nice for him ‘just because’. That was when he decided to open up to her, just a little bit.

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Unlike every other guy at Curves – both staff and customers – Curtis had never dropped casual endearments with the female staff. They'd felt fake and forced in his mouth, but with Tessa and in this moment, this one flowed out smoothly. He'd taken a deep breath, prepared himself to be honest with her. “I’ve never had a birthday cake before.”

“You haven’t?” She'd cocked her head at him, her brow furrowed in the most adorable way. “What about when you were little?”

He'd shaken his dark-blond head. “Never.”

She'd been quiet then, looking up at him. He'd seen a hundred questions in those green-and-gold eyes, questions that he'd waited to see if she’d ask. And when she had asked a question, it wasn’t one of the ones that he'd expected… but it was pure Tessa.

“Does it upset you that I did this?” she'd asked. “Should I not have – did I overstep?”

“No.” Horrified that he’d made her feel badly after doing something so damn sweet, he'd rushed to reassure her. “No, Tessa. I love it.”

“You do?”

“Yeah.” He'd given her a rare grin then, all slow and warm, and she'd smiled back. “Weird to get my first-ever birthday cake at the age of thirty-four… but better late than never, huh?”

She'd laughed. “So… you want to blow out the candle, too? Do the thing properly?”

“Hell, yeah.”

She'd set the cake down on the table, and pulled a blue candle and a lighter out of her backpack. She'd stuck the candle in the cake and lit it.

“OK,” she'd said. “Now, I have a terrible voice, but you can’t have your first-ever birthday cake and not have me sing ‘Happy Birthday’.”

“Is that the rule?”

“I think so.” She'd picked up the cake, and held it in front of her. “Brace yourself, Curtis. This is gonna be painful.”

“I’m ready.”

She hadn’t been lying, he saw, or more like, heard. Tessa’s speaking voice was sweet and sexy, but her singing was definitely sub-par. He didn’t give a shit. He'd stood there, watching the way the flame lit up her face, and made her eyes glow gold as she sang to him. It was hands-down the best moment of his damn whole life.

“Make a wish,” she'd told him. “Go on, now.”

Why, baby? he'd thought. I think all I ever wanted just happened.

He'd nodded, though, blew out the candle, forgot about making a wish. The one and only thing he wished for and wanted to come true had been standing right in front of him, and she belonged to another man. She'd laughed again, and then set the cake down.

“You want a piece?” she'd said, already busy digging out a knife and paper plates and plastic forks from her backpack.

“I sure as hell do.”

“I didn’t know what kind to make you.” Tessa had frowned at the cake, considering. “In the end, I decided on vanilla cake with lemon frosting.” She'd glanced up at him. “I didn’t think you were the kind who was into sweet stuff.”

“I like sweet stuff once in a while,” he'd said, holding her eyes. “Just depends what it is.”