Page 7 of Wild Child
My birthday candle burned bright in the middle of a frosting-free vanilla cupcake.
The single flame in the coffee shop made Maverick’s cheek twitch. His eyes flickered from the flame to the wall to the ceiling. Bethany smirked. He had good reason. This coffee shop had almost burned to the ground three-and-a-half years ago. Just to prolong his torture, I let it burn a second more. Then I snuffed it out with a sharp exhale.
He loosed a breath of relief.
“Happy twentieth birthday Ellie!” Bethany cried, clapping. My three-and-a-half-year-old nephew Shane clapped his already grubby hands. Blue frosting lined his upper lip as he clung to me, laughing when I bounced him. His own cupcake lay in his hands, a crumbly disaster already.
“Happy Birfday, Lee,” he chimed, giggling when I dug a finger into his ribs. He had black hair like his Mama and wide golden eyes that earned whatever he wanted. Freckles smattered his cheeks, folding into adorable wrinkles when he smiled. I pressed a quick kiss to his temple.
“Thank you very much.”
“I fed your chickens with the breakfast leftovers,” Bethany said as she gathered her purse. “I have a few clients that are meeting me here tomorrow morning, by the way, so keep the back room reserved.”
“Always.”
Behind us lay the renovated Frolicking Moose Coffee Shop. Bad wiring, an old building, and dry walls led to a fire years ago that almost burned the entire thing to the ground. Maverick and Bethany had thrown money into renovations, and the new Frolicking Moose sparkled, a gem on the landscape of the small mountain town of Pineville.
Part of the changes had expanded the dining and prep areas, increasing our capacity. Renovations also created a back room that allowed Bethany to meet with real estate clients and ply them with free coffee and baked goods. Some people held birthday parties back there, and Lizbeth always hosted her monthly book club.
Everything glimmered brightly and smelled like espresso.
“Also, Lizbeth and JJ will be in for your birthday dinner tonight.” Bethany slung her purse strap over her shoulder. “Don’t worry. JJ is bringing dessert. I will not have any part of that.”
I quelled a silent exclamation of relief. Despite being my sister-mama for the last seven years, Bethany had no culinary skills whatsoever. JJ, on the other hand, bought out a bakery in nearby Jackson City and ran it with the help of his wife, my sister, Lizbeth. Lizbeth’s redesign of their website and her online savvy led to a booming business. They supplied the shop’s baked goods and used the money for their own eco-friendly house.
“No other plans today?” Bethany eyed me with mama-like concern. “No . . . lunch with a friend?”
The words almost died on her lips. Maverick coughed a bad cover for a laugh. My smile tightened imperceptibly. Regret followed her question.
“Sorry.” She grimaced. “I just . . .”
“I know. You think I need friends, but I’m fine. Jax took me to dinner last night, and Lizbeth had breakfast with me this morning.”
Maverick sent Bethany a not-so-subtle shake of the head.
She sighed.
“Fine. I’ll stop being a mother hen. I just . . . I just love you. Like, a lot. And I want you to be happy.”
“Then put me on a trail.”
She grinned. “I’m sure you already have an extensive hike planned out for this afternoon?”
My own grin responded.
Bethany fussed over Shane for a moment before Maverick shooed her away. She wore a cream-colored pants suit with a pair of crimson heels that disappeared into the flowing material. Her lipstick was more purple than red, which had a striking effect against her dark black hair. She pressed a quick kiss to Maverick’s lips, then Shane’s cheek. She gave me a wink.
“Love you, Ellie.”
“Love you too, Bethie.”
“Gotta run to a showing.” She waved over her shoulder. “See you at our place for dinner. Love you all!”
Shane lunged for his father, so I passed him over and peeled the cupcake liner off my own dessert.
“Happy birthday, Ellie,” Maverick said, his deep rolling voice a reassuring part of this place. There was something about Maverick in the Frolicking Moose that felt safe.
“Thanks.”
