“Happy birthday.” Her words come out on autopilot, and I watch her throat move as she swallows. “Oh my God, Ian—how did you—what—where?—”
She stops there, clearly unsure which question to hurl at me first. I’m deciding which one to pick when a cute brunette appears over her shoulder.
“You must be Ian?” The brunette smiles and nudges Sarah aside with her hip. “I’m Cassie. Come on in. We were just leaving. Or did you need us to stay, Sarah?”
The two of them exchange one of those looks that contains an entire conversation with no words, and I shift my glance to give them some privacy. Three more women are scattered around the living room, busy scooping food and champagne bottles into canvas bags.
I catch the eye of a blonde in silk pajamas who gives me a knowing smile I can’t quite read. The other women are smirking, too, and I wonder what Sarah’s told them.
“You don’t have to leave,” I insist. “I can come back another time. I didn’t realize?—”
“No, it’s fine.” Cassie smiles. “We want Sarah to have a very happy birthday.”
“Very happy,” calls one of the other women. “As happy as you can possibly make her, at least three or four times.”
I swallow and nod. “Right. I—uh—I’ll see what I can do.”
Holy shit. Are they suggesting what I think they are, or am I reading this all wrong?
A small woman steps forward and beams at me with almond-shaped eyes and facial features that remind me of my brother Shane. My stomach twists up in an unexpected knot of melancholy as the woman smiles. “You’re going to marry Sarah for her birthday?” She studies me up and down as though assessing my fitness for marriage, then nods. “Okay, maybe.”
“Um, thanks?” I should probably introduce myself. “I’m Ian.”
“Junie,” she says, accepting my handshake with an enthusiastic grip. “That’s Missy and that’s Lisa and that’s Cassie and they’re all sisters.”
Sarah shifts forward, and I catch a familiar whiff of the honeysuckle body lotion she always used to wear. Her ponytail brushes my arm, sending goosebumps all the way to my shoulder. She stares at me like she still can’t quite believe her eyes.
“You’re really here,” she says. “I thought—don’t you live in New York?”
“I do, but I’m here for work.” Shit, I’m just now realizing she had no idea. She was totally kidding in her message, and I’m the dumbass who took her invitation literally. “I was actually just a couple miles away visiting another college buddy?—”
—whose sweet wife and new baby got me pondering what’s missing in my life.
I don’t say that out loud because I’m not a total fucking psycho. “I can come back another time,” I tell her. “I didn’t realize you were having a party.”
“No!” She grabs my arm and holds on like I’m a felon threatening a jailbreak. “Stay, please. I just—ladies, you don’t have to go.”
The blond sister—Lisa?—laughs and shoulders a canvas tote. “Please. We’re seeing you tomorrow for brunch. We were pretty much done here anyway, right?”
“Right,” agrees Cassie, winking at Sarah before she can say anything. “You need to get on with the rest of your birthday plans.”
“Um—” Sarah licks her lips and glances at me. “Yes, but?—”
“Bye, birthday girl.” Cassie leans in to give Sarah a hug, and I hear her whisper something that sounds like “yummy.”
The women take turns hugging Sarah and wishing her happy birthday. I watch them file out the door toward a waiting limousine. Fancy. And weird, since they’re all in pajamas.
When the door closes behind them, I turn to face Sarah. Her cheeks are flushed, and the expression she’s wearing is halfway between uncertainty and amusement. She’s clad in pajamas and a bright yellow scarf, and she’s hands-down the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.
“Wow. Ian.” Her voice comes out a little breathless. “You’re really here.”
“In the flesh.” I give her an apologetic smile. “Sorry if I killed your birthday party.”
“No, we were done anyway,” she says. “Besides, I’m the one who invited you over.” She gives a funny little laugh and shakes her head, still befuddled. “And here you are.”
“Here I am.”
“Wow.”
