Page 116 of Billionaire Lumberjack's Bargain

Pops launches into the most God-awful, off-key rendition of “Happy Birthday” I’ve ever heard, and Dalton and I join in, fighting laughter until Davey finally blows out the candles.

Dalton pulls them from the cupcake so Davey can dig into it, and we all sit back and watch him become an absolute disaster. Chocolate frosting covers his face and hands, but he doesn’t seem to care as he shovels more pieces of the crumbling confection into his mouth.

I reach out for my own, but a sharp tug at my side makes me wince. Pressing my palm over it and massaging at the muscle, I shift in the chair to try to find a position that isn’t so uncomfortable on the hard wood.

Of course, Dalton didn’t miss the movement, his intense gaze zeroing in on my hand. “Are you okay?”

Getting this little celebration together means I’ve spent more time on my feet today than I have in a few weeks, and I am certainly paying the price for it now.

I nod and give him what I hope is a reassuring smile. “I’ll lie down when we’re done. Maybe on the couch by the fire for a while…”

His hand glides across the back of my neck, and rough fingertips dig into the tense muscles at the base of my skull.

Groaning, I lean into his welcome touch. “You have no idea how good that feels.”

Dalton chuckles low, leaning in even closer, until I catch a hint of that woodsy, fresh scent that always clings to him. “Oh, I do. And I promise I’ll take care of you later.”

The promise in his words makes me shiver again. “Take care of me, how?”

He moves evencloserand kisses my cheek so that I’ll be the only one who can hear whatever he’s about to say. “However you want me to. You know that.”

Heat spreads across my cheeks and between my legs, the pain in my side long forgotten.

Pops slams his palm against the table hard enough to make both of us jerk away from each other. “Will you two lovebirds knock it off? I’m trying to eat here.” He takes a massive bite of his cupcake, and Dalton glares at him, even though the old man couldn’t care less. “These are really good, sweetheart. I could eat ten of them.”

I snort and nod. “I bet you could.”

And he will, if I don’t stop him.

The man may be “as healthy as a horse,” as he likes to say, but at his age, he doesn’t need to be devouring almost a dozen cupcakes.

Davey finishes his and rushes off into the living room, probably to play with the few new toys he already opened before we got to the singing and cake portion of the day.

Something tells me the bright-yellow dump trunk that makes real sounds will be both his new favorite and the most annoying, especially when the baby comes and I need the house quiet at times.

But I knew as soon as Dalton showed it to me that it was the perfect gift.

Because he knows Davey so well.

And me.

“Go lie down. Pops and I will clean up in here.”

Pops’ brows rise. “We will?”

Dalton glares across the table. “Wewill.”

That seems to settle any further debate, and Dalton rises to his feet to help me to mine with a supportive arm. His hand lingers on me, and he searches my face. “You’re sure you’re okay?”

I’m already getting sick of hearing him ask. I still have two more weeks to go before this baby arrives, but I can’t be annoyed by it. Not when he’s genuinely concerned and willing to do anything I need to ease my discomfort.

I kiss his cheek. “Positive. Just need to rest.”

And watching Davey enjoy his birthday surprises will help, too.

I waddle into the living room, expecting to find him right in front of the fireplace, using the dump truck to move around the little balls of wrapping paper he created earlier.

But the room is empty.

---