Page 49 of The Blame Game

“Yeah, no problem.” Shea unbuckled his seatbelt. “Tonight was fun. Thanks for doing this.”

“It was fun.” Dom licked his lips. “Uh, before you go though … could you hand me that bag, Rick?”

For one wild second, Shea wondered who the hell Rick was before he realized it was the driver. He passed a handled brown paper bag back and Dom took it, handing it to Shea.

“Happy Birthday.”

“What?” Shea blinked. “You didn’t have to … dinner was more than enough.”

“It’s nothing big,” Dom said.

Shea peered inside and although the light in the SUV wasn’t very bright, he realized there was a cake box.

“You got me a birthday cake?” Shea asked, surprised.

“Yeah. At dinner you mentioned you loved chocolate cake but were too full to have any …”

“You got the restaurant to sell you a whole cake?” Shea asked, surprised but touched.

“No. That would have been a way smarter choice now that you mention it.” Dom laughed ruefully. “I, uh, had Rick pick it up from my favorite bakery while we were at the game.”

“Dom, most bakeries aren’t open that time of night,” Shea said slowly.

“Yeah.” He smoothed down the back of his hair. “I, uh, may have called in a favor.”

“You—you made a bakery open just to buy a cake for my birthday?” Shea blinked at him.

“Well, when you say it like that …” Dom darted a glance toward Rick. “You know, just thought it would be a nice way to wrap up the evening. No big deal.”

“It was nice,” Shea said, clutching the handles of the bag so he wouldn’t do something stupid like grab Dom and yank him in for a kiss.

Not that they’d ever kissed before.

But this seemed like a good moment to make an exception, although that was Dom’s rule, not his, so it wasn’t his call. But fuck, he wanted it.

Dom cleared his throat. “Anyway, I need to get to home and get to bed, so …”

“Yes, sorry,” Shea said. “Guess I’m tired too. Have a good night. Thanks for dinner and the cake. It was a nice surprise.”

“Sure, no problem. Happy Birthday.”

“You too,” Shea said, still feeling a little dazed.

Dom chuckled. “Thanks? Mine’s in November but …”

“No, right, I knew that.” Shea reached for the door handle. “I meant … Never mind. G’night.”

“Night.”

Somehow, Shea made it out of the SUV and onto the sidewalk. He didn’t allow himself to turn around for one last look like he wanted. He marched to the front door and took the elevator straight up to his floor before he did something he’d regret.

When he opened the door to his apartment, Audra was curled up in her usual chair in the living room.

She rose to her feet, then frowned. “Hey, where’s your hockey man? You texted me that he was coming over.”

“Change of plans?” Shea managed.

“You couldn’t have told me that half an hour ago?” she grumbled. “I would have changed into pajamas and taken my makeup off if I’d known.”

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