“Okay, open.”
An enormous chocolate cupcake sits between us on a saucer. The creamy milk chocolate frosting resembles a rose and it has crystal-like sugar glitter sprinkled over the top, which is reflecting the golden glow of the single white candle in the center. It’s probably the most beautiful cupcake I’ve ever seen.
“Wes, I don’t know what to say. Thank you.”
“Just payback for making my birthday a little more special.” He checks the time on his cell phone. “But you better hurry. You have just over a minute to make a wish.”
I smirk at him. “You never cease to surprise me.”
My eyes close, and I try hard to think of the perfect wish for this perfect moment. The first ones that pop into my mind involve Wes, this bed, and a lot less clothes, but after Wes explained part of his past to me today, I know he needs the wish way more than I do. So that’s what I wish for—him. I wish that he can find peace in his life. I wish that he can resolve those deep rooted insecurities and heal those scars. I wish he could learn to trust again, to love again. Even if it’s not with me, I hope he finds true happiness, that he’ll let go of the ghosts of his past and can finally let those walls come crashing down.
After taking a deep breath, I open my slightly moist eyes and blow out the single flame, causing a thin thread of smoke to rise between us. “There. Wish made.”
“Good, and just in the nick of time.”
“I hope so. And thanks for making my Sixteen Candles dreams come true, Jake.”
He smiles, somehow knowing exactly what I’m talking about. “But we didn’t kiss before you blew the candle out, Samantha.”
“And my wish hasn’t come true yet. Why am I not all that surprised that you know that movie?”
Wes holds up a fork. “So I like eighties movies. It’s not a big deal. But it might be a big deal if I made a secret trip to a bakery this afternoon to get this cupcake and you don’t eat it.” He peels back one side of the paper and cuts into it, producing a man-sized bite and holding it up to my mouth. “Open up. Don’t force me to start making airplane noises. I’ll so do it.”
I start to tell him that I’m not a toddler, but he takes the opportunity as soon as my mouth opens to shove the bite between my lips. Now, I have cake and frosting everywhere, I’m trying to chew this huge sticky chunk of cake, and I can’t stop laughing. I can imagine it’s not a very attractive sight. But I can’t let him have all the fun.
I set the cupcake on the nightstand, so he can’t arm himself anymore, and I swipe my finger through the top of the cupcake, collecting a big blob on my fingertip and holding it up. “It’s only fair,” I mumble through the mouthful of cake. “If I have to wear frosting, you do, too.”
He sits still and shrugs his shoulders. “If you think you can smear that on my face, go ahead and try.”
I narrow my eyes and look down at his hands resting in his lap. He doesn’t look like he’s even going to try to stop me, but I heard the warning in his voice. This will just be a matter of who is quicker, and I’m pretty damn quick. I finally swallow and try to lick the frosting from my lips, hoping it will serve as enough distraction. He is a man, after all.
Sucking my bottom lip into my mouth, I make my move and reach toward his cheek as quickly as I can. But I should’ve known his hand would dart up and catch mine before I could connect.
“Nice try,” he says before raising my hand up and closing his lips around my finger. I feel his tongue swirling around it, sucking deeply until every trace of the sugary icing is gone. And it’s really unnecessary to explain my body’s response to that right now. Oh, his mouth is definitely a guilty pleasure of mine.
Finally, he slips my finger from his mouth, but he doesn’t let go of my hand. He pulls on my wrist, urging me closer until we meet in the middle, only a couple of inches away.
“Be still,” he practically purrs. Leaning in just a little more, his lips touch the corner of my mouth, and his tongue stretches out to sweep across the frosting smeared there before moving to the other side to do the same. “I forgot how good you taste with chocolate.”
I’m doing good to just breathe at this point, so speaking is out of the question at the moment.
Wes’ thumb traces along my jaw and then swipes across my lips. His labored breath puffs onto my face. His blue eyes appear grey in the dim light, resembling the raging storm brewing just behind them. “Stop me, Callie.”
“No,” I force the words from my lips on a sigh.
His icy glare cuts into me, but I know he’s not upset with me. He’s fighting a battle of wills, and I’m not about to join in on that crusade. It’s not my fight. And when he closes the gap between us, I know the war is lost.