Page 177 of Chasing Sparks

Nice try, but you’ll have to find a new dirty secret to fill that role, Ash.

When I don’t respond, Ash sighs and pulls me into a hug. “I’ll lend you a T-shirt and boxers. We’ll grab your stuff tomorrow. Come on, let’s get you fed.”

“Fine.”

Must remember it’s his birthday and despite being pissed at the man, I’ve caused enough upheaval for one day.

We walk into the finished garage, where Braden, Zane, Lucille, and a handful of others are chatting and lounging around.

“There you are. Everything good?” Braden asks, his gaze darting between us.

Oh, let me field this question, Ash.

“I’m fine. Just been working too much lately. The doctor says I need rest, and your brother was kind enough to let me stay here for a few days.”

“Mi casa, su casa,” Braden says, gesturing around the room. “Want a beer?”

“No, thanks. Where’s Mina?”

Braden clears his throat and grins. “I drove her home. She felt a bit out of place, and I couldn’t convince her otherwise.”

“Maybe you should have tried harder,” I reply with a wink.

A hint of color rises in his face. “Trust me, I did.”

My poor friend. I’ll have to apologize for deserting her and then have a serious sit-down about missing opportunities with hot, tattooed men.

“There are some more gifts for you, Ash.” Lucille motions to the stack of presents at the end of the bar.

“No one had to get me anything.”

“Fine, I’ll take them,” Braden says, reaching his hands toward the pile.

Ash shakes his head and moves between his brother and the gifts. “Back the hell up. Should I open them now?”

The remaining partygoers nod, and Ash tears into his gifts, while I stand stiffly to the side. Have to hand it to his friends, they have good taste. He scores with a new pair of motorcycle gloves, a mixology book dedicated to the 1920s, a gift card to the local motorcycle shop, and some new needles for his tattoo machine.

It’s a damn fine haul.

“Last one,” Ash says, grabbing a gift bag.

“That’s actually not a birthday gift,” Lucille interjects, snatching the bag away.

“Okay,” Ash replies, confusion furrowing his brow.

Lucille looks at me and then at Ash, a tremulous smile on her face. “It’s for the baby. Kathy made it.” She pulls a soft yellow blanket from the bag and passes it to Ash. “Cute, right?”

Shoot me now.

Ash nods, his tense smile doing little to conceal his uneasiness as he glances at me. “Yep.”

But his discomfort is nothing compared to what I’m feeling. I can barely force the air into my lungs as I stare at the blanket.

To most people, it’s just a soft, downy present for the new arrival. But for me, it’s yet another glaring reminder that while Lucille and Ash’s baby is well known amongst family and friends, my baby is a secret.

My baby isn’t good enough to share the limelight.

And neither am I.

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