Page 63 of Love Me Sweet

Hoping she wasn’t going to make the situation worse; Sylvie reached for the doorknob and gave it a turn. It opened which meant he hadn’t locked her out.

She moved carefully through the room to the large king-sized bed. Sylvie knew he preferred to sleep on the right side of the bed.

Pulling the sheet and light spread back, she crawled beneath the covers.

“Sylvie, I’m not in the mood—”

“Shhh.” She snuggled close, wrapping her arms around his tense frame. “Go to sleep. Morning will be here all too soon.”

* * *

After that night, Sylvie slept with him. Andrew had to admit that he liked falling asleep beside her and waking up with her every morning. He’d considered flying back to Boston for Mrs. Whitaker’s funeral then learned she’d been cremated and a memorial service was being planned closer to what had always been her favorite holiday, Thanksgiving.

The next week brought a change to their routine as Sylvie was busy preparing for Josie and Noah’s wedding at the end of the week. He’d already been put on notice that she expected him to attend the pig roast prenuptial dinner at the Campbell’s home and the wedding on Saturday.

The one thing they hadn’t discussed was that the end of the month was swiftly approaching, which meant his time to return to Boston was near.

Andrew knew it was cowardly, but he did his best to put that fact out of his mind. It was relatively easy to do considering the clinic remained short-staffed and he’d agreed to fill in while he was in town.

This meant, he’d spend the early morning hours with Sylvie then head over to the clinic to see patients. Because they were both tired at the end of the day they ate at home, sharing meals at the small table in the kitchen then making love in the big bed.

Andrew had never been happier.

The night of the pig roast, he pulled on the blue jeans that no longer felt strange and the pair of cowboy boots Mitzi had surprised him with as a special thank-you for helping out at the clinic.

“I love your boots.” Sylvie looked cowgirl like herself in ankle high boots, a light blue skirt and an oversized white shirt with a belt studded with multi-colored stones cinched tight.

“You look nice.” He moved to her and was pleased when she wrapped her arms around his neck and lifted her face for a kiss.

He tightened his arms around her, inhaling the scent of her that reminded him of cinnamon, sugar, and everything delicious. Lowering his head, he nuzzled her neck. When he felt her breath quicken, he sensed victory. “No one is going to mind if we’re a few minutes late.”

“I’m bringing the cake, remember?”

Sensing he wasn’t going to win this one, no matter how promising the path had appeared only moments earlier, Andrew reluctantly released her. “I’m still not sure why they wanted a cake tonight when they’re going to have one at the wedding.”

“Atraditionalone.” Sylvie rolled her eyes. “Josie’s father is very conservative, as are most of Noah’s family. The cake I’m bringing tonight is just for them.”

She’d showed him her masterpiece earlier, once she’d put on the finishing touches. It was what Sylvie called a “Lucky in Love” cake. Valentine’s Day held special meaning to couples so the cake with its four layers tilted askew, containing hearts and stripes and checkerboard designs in black and white and red was a tribute to their love.

“Are you ready to load it up?”

“I am.”

They were driving Ethel to the party. Andrew had never arrived at any kind of social event in a van. But neither had he ever worn cowboy boots and jeans to a party.

They slid the cake box into the back of the vehicle. Because Josie’s parents didn’t live far, it would be a quick trip.

The talk remained on cakes on the drive over. “Our cook used to make us these wonderful birthday cakes. They weren’t nearly as intricate and creative as the ones you do, but Carmen had a knack.”

He smiled. “One year I asked for Spiderman on my cake. She was horrified, but Spiderman scaling the side of a skyscraper was on my cake.”

“Sounds cute.” Sylvie gave a chuckle.

“What was your favorite birthday cake?” Andrew wished he could withdraw the question the second it left his lips.

“I never had one,” she said, her tone matter-of-fact. “Unless you count the ones I made myself.”

“Did you go all out or keep them simple?”

“Some years simple. Other times I experimented.” Her lips curved. “The only thing they had in common was they were always chocolate. I love chocolate cake.”

He made a mental note, thinking that was something he should have already known. But then, they’d never celebrated her birthday together. Because hers wasn’t until the fall…

“Your birthday is next week.”

“A week from tomorrow to be exact.” She leaned back in the seat. “October 1.”

The significance wasn’t lost on him.

That was the day he planned to be back in Boston.

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