Page 15 of Spark
As we sing, I study how Cam, Finlay, and Aileene are all standing around Olive and how she smiles at each of them. I love that the siblings are close-knit and that family is as important to them as it is to me. I would do anything for my sister, for any member of my family, and when I look at Cam and Herc, I know that I’d do anything for them too, because they’re almost like family to me. And as for Finlay, well, I’m ready to walk through fire for him, and I want to explore that because I’ve never had such a strong reaction to anyone else ever.
I watch Hercules return safely to our chairs, then wait my turn for cake. Finlay and Aileene are helping Cam dish it out. All of the kids are served first, and then the adults. I don’t mind waiting, or being one of the last in line. That cake is huge, and the odds are good that every attendee will have some to take home.
Finlay hands me two plates with thick slices before I say a word. "I know Herc likes chocolate cake. That okay for you? We also have layers of strawberry and French vanilla if you want that instead."
"Anything’s fine. Whatever you want to give me." Once the words leave my mouth, I realize they could be misconstrued or have a double meaning. Heat flashes through me.
Finlay’s brow raises. As we watch each other, the crackle of electricity is back.
“I’ll give you everything.” His Adam’s apple bobs with his swallow. He slices off wedges of vanilla and strawberry cake and piles them on top of the chocolate on one of the plates I’m holding. I drink in his words and hope that he means it in more than just cake.
Cam snatches the plate with the single piece of chocolate cake from my grasp. "I’ll bring this to Herc. Mateo, your plate now has enough cake for two people. You and Finlay should take that and go relax somewhere. Together. There are quiet sections in the yard. Perfect for some privacy."
Lips pressed together, shoulders shaking, Aileene is clearly smothering laughter as she elbows Cam in the ribs. "Smooth, Cam. Real smooth."
Finlay glares at Cam, then turns to me. He picks up two forks, napkins, and a bottle of beer. "Let’s go."
I’m too stunned to reply as I hold tight to my plate and follow. I fall in step beside him, content to go wherever he wants to wander. We walk all the way to the back of the yard and settle on the thick grass in front of the rock-climbing wall my company installed last year. Amid the handholds and footholds, it’s decorated with a mirrored mosaic mural, and is one of my favorites out of all the outdoor features I’ve had a hand in.
Cross-legged, I balance the plate on my knee and thigh. Finlay and I both stab our forks in and come up with all three flavors. The chocolate, vanilla, and strawberry notes explode on my tongue. This cake is almost as good as sex. Almost. The thought of sex and of sharing this cake with Finlay has me half hard. "I didn’t know Cam had set us up. Not until Olive said the thing about leaving us alone together."
"I knew it as soon as I saw you standing in the yard." Finlay lifts a shoulder and spears another forkful of cake. "Cam isn’t subtle."
"And that bothers you." My words weren’t phrased as a question, no need for questions when the answer is obvious.
Finlay’s hand brushes mine when he lowers his fork to the plate. His gaze is incredulous. "Doesn’t it botheryou?"
I shrug and then shake my head. "I like when people are direct. It eliminates the guessing and analyzing about their intentions or motivations."
"I like direct too. Just not when it comes to Cam’s quest to partner up the entire world." He wipes a smear of frosting away from his knuckle with a blue napkin printed with a lion wearing a party hat. "There’s a time and a place…"
"And your niece’s birthday party isn’t it." I eat another bite of cake.
"Exactly." Then his gaze jumps to mine, piercing me. "Don’t misunderstand. Seeing you again is…" He bites his lip. "But I feel like multiple circles are colliding right now: friends, family, and you, all right here."
"Same for me. I have just as many circles colliding." Maybe I should be more wary of possibly starting something with the brother of one of my best friends. But I haven’t felt this intensely about anyone in a long time.
We eat in silence for a few minutes. The scents of cake, fresh-cut grass, and Finlay are the layered notes I’m filing away for when I think about this moment later. Because, IknowI’ll be thinking about it later. How he feels next to me, how he sounds, what he says.
Finlay leans back and traces his fingertip over one of the mirrored fragments on the wall. "One of my college friends had an apartment on South Street. When we’d take his dog for walks, we’d pass a lot of places covered with these mirrored mosaics. I love it."
"I do, too. A friend of mine is an artist and sometimes works in this medium. He added this mosaic after my company installed the wall."
"Cam mentioned one of his rugby buddies handled this project. You work in construction?"
"Home renovations, mostly." After setting the plate aside, I turn and pull on one of the holds, testing its strength. Still as sturdy as the day we installed it. "Olive wanted the wall to look pretty, so that’s when we brought my buddy in."
"I’d love to get something done for my place."
"I can put you in touch with him." I lay my hand flat over the mirrors and colored stones, close to Finlay’s. We’re facing each other, torso to torso, our knees touching.
"I’m flipping the house, not keeping it, so that will have to wait. Style is such a personal thing…"
"I’m reminded of that every time I see what clients pair together during remodels. Some of their ideas are amazing, others… not so much." I shudder and Finlay’s rich laugh fills me with pleasure. "I’m slowly putting my personal stamp on the place I purchased a few years ago, but have a long way to go before I’m ready to add something like this mural."
Finlay shifts onto his knees and leans over me. His hand is a hot brand on my shoulder as he bends to study a circle of tiny stones shaped like a flower by my cheek. The urge to dive my fingers into his hair and guide his lips to mine is so strong I have to tuck my fingertips into my back pocket. His study of the stones shifts to studying my lips, then journeys to lock onto my gaze. The intensity in those green-brown eyes matches the maelstrom of feelings swirling through me.
I need to talk to him for real. To tell him how I feel, and see if he reciprocates. The party is winding down and precious minutes are slipping by. The backdrop of mirrors and tiles provides a flash of inspiration. "You know, the Magic Gardens are full of art like this."
