Page 203 of Mountain Boss

“It means there’s sprinkles inside the cake,” Simpson explains. “It’s my youngest’s favorite.”

I stare at the slice of white cake full of multicolored spots as Courtney sets one on a plate.

She hands it to Fisher and tells him to pass it down.

Courtney repeats the process until everyone at both tables has a piece.

Cook finally grabs his own food and drops down next to Fisher, then starts up a conversation with the kid.

While Courtney is setting down her own piece of cake next to her plate, I look at the table.

At the pizza.

At the cake.

At the bottles of root beer Cook shared with everyone out of his personal stash.

It looks like we’re having a damn party.

Courtney places her hands on the table as she climbs onto the bench.

As she twists, her hand moves so it’s between my plate and the edge of the table over my lap.

It’s casual.

Nothing.

But when she sits down and moves her hand, there’s a small slip of paper left behind.

I grab my napkin and bump the paper off the table and into my open palm.

It’s a scrap of lined paper, probably torn off a page from the clipboard.

Picking up a slice of pizza with one hand, I carefully unfold the note in my lap with the other.

And the two words slither off the page and under my skin.

Happy Birthday.

I flatten my palm over the paper.

I blink.

I swallow.

I blink again.

Then I set the pizza slice down, push my plate to the side, and replace it with the cake plate.

My fork falls through the fluffy slice.

If Courtney had asked my favorite cake flavor that night when we stayed awake talking until dawn, I would have said chocolate.

And I would have been wrong.

Because when I take a bite of my birthday cake, I swear it’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.

Chapter 151

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