“I lied, babe,” Tate replied. “There was no skip.”

“You lied to me?” I screeched hysterically because I was hysterically happy and I had absolutely no clue how to deal with that.

“Couldn’t tell you I couldn’t take you to work because I had to go pick up countertops, Ace, that would spoil the surprise,” Tate answered.

My head jerked and I asked, “How did you know it was my birthday? You weren’t supposed to know it was my birthday.”

“It’s on your job application, Laurie,” Krys called and I heard her but I watched Tate’s face dip close at the same time it got serious.

“Yeah, and we’re gonna talk about that,” he murmured and I had the distinct feeling he wasn’t too hot on me keeping my birthday from him.

“I thought –” I started.

“I know what you thought,” he cut me off, “and we’re gonna talk about that.”

I swallowed back tears, wiped my face and sniffed loudly.

Then I changed the subject. “Did you make the cake?”

Tate grinned. “Fuck no. Shambles made it.”

“Moist Factor Five Hundred, babeeeee!” Shambles shouted from somewhere behind Tate.

I giggled softly.

Then I whispered to Tate, “You bought me a new stove.”

“Yeah,” he whispered back.

“And a new fridge.”

“Yeah.”

I moved to fit myself to his front and wrap my arms around him, tipping my head back further to hold his eyes.

“And a new dishwasher,” I continued.

“Yeah, babe.”

“That’s a lot of appliances, Tate.”

“Yeah,” he agreed.

“And a lot of cake,” I observed because I knew from just glancing at them that the appliances and countertops were top of the line and they had to cost a whack.

“No shit,” he replied.

I smiled at him and kept whispering. “I think you like me.”

“I like how you cook, probably like it better, now you got better tools to do the job.”

My smile got bigger. “You like more than how I cook.”

His arms gave me a squeeze and he whispered, “Yeah.”

I moved my arms from around his back, wound them around his neck and got up on my toes to touch my mouth to his. Then my lips went to his ear.

“Do you love me?”

His lips at my ear, he answered, “Oh yeah.”

I smiled and stuffed my face in my neck.

“Sick!” Jonas shouted. “Jeez, can we have cake or what?”

“I’ll go fire up the grill,” I heard Pop say as I shifted back and Tate’s arms around me became only one as he tucked me into his side and turned us to face our audience. “Stell, sweetheart, bring out the chops,” Pop finished.

“You got it, Kyle,” Stella replied, heading to the fridge.

“Chops first, Bub, then cake,” Tate told Jonas.

“Tyler and me are giving you a week of boot camps, free of charge!” Wendy called.

“Great,” I muttered, uncertain if a week’s worth of physical torture was a good birthday present but I still muttered this smiling at them.

Sunny came forward, holding out a card while saying, “Free coffee for your birthday month.”

“Oh Sunny, I couldn’t,” I told her, taking the card.

“All November, Petal,” Shambles walked up and slid an arm around Sunny’s chest from behind, his grin pinned to me, “on the house.”

“Thanks,” I whispered.

Krystal came forward with a package wrapped in birthday wrap but no ribbon or bow.

She handed it to me and stated, “It’s a Harley tee and it’s sweet. They only had that one left in our size. You don’t like it, give it back, I want it.”

I didn’t think Krystal was the same size as me and I figured she bought her own size so I’d have to give the t-shirt back. I laughed softly and shook my head while she avoided my eyes, turned and also avoided Bubba on her way back into the kitchen.

Tate let me go and drifted away as others came forward with cards and gifts. A huge bouquet of flowers from Holly. A smokin’ hot biker babe belt that Stoney had noticed me checking out at his store. A gift certificate for a mani and pedi from Dominic. A white ribbed tank with a black, silver, gray and orange design of skulls, hearts and flowers around the words “Carnal, Colorado, Harley Heaven” from Amber and Jonelle. Two gift certificates for the home store, one from Ned and Betty, one from Pop, Stella and Wood. A bottle of very good vodka from Steg, Wings and Nadine. A neck choker I would never have considered buying for myself (but it was hot and I couldn’t wait to wear it) made out of a thin strip of black leather with silver rivets on it from Bubba.

And a can of mace with a mumbled, “Can’t be too careful,” from Twyla.

Once I’d opened all my gifts; read my cards and set them on their sides on the counter that separated the kitchen from the living room; everyone had a beer; and Stella, Krys, Wendy and Amber had put out bowls of chips, macaroni and potato salad and fluffy dinner rolls, Tate returned to me.

And he did it carrying a martini, with olive, in a fantastic, long-stemmed, elegant martini glass.

When I took the martini all the while my eyes never leaving his, he murmured, “Wanda says happy birthday.”

Tate had braved Wanda and Deluxe Home Store for me.

I felt tears sting my eyes.

“Tate,” I breathed.

His hand slid along my waist as he muttered, “Shit, babe, are you gonna cry again?”

“No,” I lied as a tear ran down my cheek.

Tate watched it fall then his free hand lifted and he used his thumb to swipe it away. He left his hand cupping my cheek when he was done and I’d gotten control of myself.

Then I whispered, “Thank you, baby.”

His face got soft, tender and his head dropped so he could run his nose along mine.

He moved an inch away, his eyes locked on mine and he whispered back, “You’re welcome, Ace.”

My parents were good at giving birthdays. My Mom was a birthday freak and she made every one more special than the last.

But I stood in my new-ish kitchen, looking into Tatum Jackson’s brown, tawny-flecked eyes and I loved my Mom and all the hard work she’d put into giving me great birthdays… but Tate had given me the best.

And it wasn’t over yet.

* * * * *

I returned to the house after waving good-bye to Bubba, Wendy, Tyler and Amber, the last of the lot to go.