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“Let’s not get carried away. It’s just another day.”
I roll my eyes. “How old are you?”
“Twenty-nine.”
“Let me get the waitress. The least I can do is buy you a slice of cake.”
His lips curl. In that moment, I decide that trusting him to do what’s right for me is the best a man who forgets his own birthday can offer me.
“Check,” he tells the waitress.
“You don’t want to celebrate?”
“Didn’t say that.” He stands, and I’m suddenly back in his arms. “I’ve something sweeter than cake in mind.”
My breath hitches in my throat as he nuzzles my ear.
“You.”
