“It’s Clara’s thirtieth birthday.” She frowned likeshewas the one confused. “I texted you last night.”
He hadn’t checked his phone since dinner. He and Clara had gotten…distracted. “You texted to tell me you were breaking into the house?”
“It’s not breaking in if I have a key.”
He disagreed. And he had a mind to remind Indie that they were already on high alert since Scarlett’s death, but he gritted his teeth. “Why are you here so early?”
“So I can blow up thirty balloons, set her favorite flowers in the middle of the table, and serve her almond croissants. That takes time.”
He scrubbed a hand over his face, setting his gun on the island. It was too damn early for this.
Footsteps sounded behind him. “Indie?”
He cursed. “Clara, I told you to stay locked in the bathroom.”
“It’s just Indie.”
“You didn’t know that!”
Indie suddenly screeched, “Happy thirtieth!” She ran around the island and flung her arms around Clara.
Clara chuckled. “Thank you.”
When they separated, Indie grinned. “Now you need to march your butt back into the bedroom so I can set this room up, then pretend you didn’t see me and come out in thirty to sixty minutes and act surprised. Okay?”
“Okay.” Clara squeezed his arm before leaving the room.
Indie turned back to him. “Andyoushould not pull a gun on me ever again. Colt taught me self-defense, and Iwilluse it on you.”
He bit back the laugh. The woman was five foot nothing. “Have you spoken to him lately?”
There was a small tensing of Indie’s muscles. “No. Not for a while.”
Holden nodded. Colt was a Marine, and they hadn’t been in Amber Ridge at the same time a lot, so Holden didn’t know him well. But he’d seemed like a good guy.
He stepped forward. “Need help?”
“Nope. I’d like you to go and give Clara a big happy birthday kiss and keep her occupied for as long as this takes me. Oh—and take that gun with you. I don’t need to look at it. It’s killing the party vibe.”
“Shout if you need anything.”
He grabbed his Glock and returned to the bedroom, but it was empty and the bathroom door was closed. Once the weapon was secured in the bedside table again, he went to the bathroom to find Clara in front of the mirror while the shower ran.
He stepped inside and wrapped his arms around her waist, his lips going to her ear as he whispered, “Happy thirtieth birthday, Clara.”
A little shudder coursed down her spine. She leaned back into him and placed her hands over his. “I made it.”
He froze. Had she not expected to?
“When you’ve been diagnosed with stage four cancer, every year feels like a gift,” she clarified.
He pressed a light kiss to her neck. “You’ve got a hell of a lot more birthdays in your future.”
She turned in his arms, her gaze shifting between his eyes, the small smile slipping from her lips. “Will you be there to celebrate with me?”
She still doubted him. He shouldn’t be surprised. That fear still snuck up on him, usually when he least expected it. “I’ll be wherever you want me.”
“Here,” she whispered. “Right here by my side.”
