“Yes, Da—” I stopped myself before I said daddy again.
But they caught it and all of them smirked at me as they went to the coffee pot. They hovered there for a while, which wasn't a problem. I was still waiting for the cake to set. But when the time came, I shooed them out to the living room.
“What are you up to?” Garret asked as he left.
“What part of 'it's a surprise' do you not understand?” I shot back.
“Come on,” Gideon urged. “No one has surprised us with anything good before. I'm excited. Let's get out of her way.”
I stood in the kitchen doorway, watching until they were in the living room, then swept over to the fridge and brought out the cake. It was at the perfect firmness for frosting. I swept on the final coat, then realized I was missing something.
“Shit,” I muttered. “The surprise is going to have to wait.” I put the cake back in the fridge and went to fetch the men.
“Can we go into the kitchen now?” Gideon asked as he jumped up.
“Sorry. There's something I need to finish the surprise. Could we go to breakfast and then do a little shopping?” I winced, thinking it kinda ruined things if they had to pay for it. But there was no help for it. I wanted everything to be perfect. “I'll need to shop alone.”
“We can't let you do that, Indie,” Gage said. “You might get attacked.”
“Oh.” My face fell.
“How about we go with you, but wait at the end of the aisles and promise not to look at what you buy?” Gideon offered. “You'll need us to pay for things anyway.”
“Oh, okay.” I brightened. “Promise not to look.” I set my stare on each of them, one at a time, and they nodded.
With promises given, we went to breakfast. Excitement over my plan kept me grinning through the meal, but their companionship would have done that anyway. Every interaction brought us closer. I felt as if I had known them forever. But that'sa cliché thing to say, isn't it? Or maybe it was a normal feeling when you were connecting with someone.
After breakfast, I had them take me to Walmart. It would have everything I needed without giving them any hints. On top of the candles, I got some decorations too. But that was down the “party aisle” so I had the men wait a few aisles down. Once I had everything I wanted, I spread a pack of streamers over the top of everything in the basket, just in case one of them peeked. Then we checked out.
With my plastic bag clutched to my chest, I grinned all the way back to the house. The men kept looking at me, chuckling and shaking their heads. I loved it. No one had done this for them before. I was the first. Whether I was their mate or not, they'd always remember me for this. And that was a balm on the burn of the likelihood that they wouldn't be mine.
Once we got home, I hurried into the kitchen, calling over my shoulder, “Give me fifteen minutes!”
“Now, she needs fifteen?” Gage asked. “What is she doing to our kitchen?”
“Do you care?” Garret shot back. “Look how happy she is. She can blow up the stove if she wants. As long as she keeps smiling like that.”
“Blowing up the stove could kill her,” Gideon said.
“All right, that was a terrible choice, but you know what I mean.”
My grin went wider with those words. But then I was in the kitchen, out of hearing range. First, I brought the cake out to soften a little. Then I tore into the packages and raced aboutthe room, giggling to myself. Streamers everywhere. A big sign across the windows. Balloons. It was just as I wanted it. Then I froze. This wasn't just for them. Some of my foster parents had remembered my birthday, but it was never a big to-do. At best, I got a store-bought cake and some ice cream. And believe me, that thrilled me when it happened. But I never got this. I was putting on the party I had always wanted.
Which meant that they might not want it.
“Damn it,” I whispered and looked down at the pack of birthday candles. “I never thought to wonder if this might upset them.” Then I realized it didn't matter. My intentions were good, and I knew they'd appreciate the gesture either way. These weren't men who would pout at someone throwing them a party. They'd walk in and own the scene.
Grin back in place, I decorated the top of the cake with candles, then lit them.
“Okay!” I shouted. “Come in!”
The sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Seconds later, the hounds burst into the room. And froze.
“Happy Birthday!” I shouted, holding out the cake on its pedestal plate. Then I sang, “Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday Garret, Gideon, and Gage. Happy Birthday to you.”
They gaped at me. Then at the candles. Then at the decorations that had turned their spotless kitchen into a kid's dream. Balloons clung to the cabinets, streamers draped everything, cardboard cutouts of cartoon animals decorated the walls, and a sign reading, “Happy Birthday” hung from the ceiling.
I lost confidence when the silence continued. “Um, you're supposed to make a wish and blow out the candles.”
