(Please note, that the name of May's boyfriend was changed to Mark in this book. It was Brian in the previous book.)
May was so busy, she didn't think her legs would be able to carry her anymore. Her knees ached, her back had developed a permanent bend from leaning over tables. She hadn't stopped moving since sunrise. Her hands were slick with icing, and she had flour smudged across her left cheek, but somehow the crumb coat was holding up. Barely.
"Who knew organising a birthday party for a one-year-old child would be this tedious?" she muttered aloud, swiping her brow with her arm and accidentally smearing it with buttercream. "Lord! She is just a year old, I mean, how many friends could she possibly have?"
May paused, staring down at the half-frosted, two-tier vanilla sponge. She already knew the answer, of course.
May knew better, even if she would whine constantly. Adelita wasn't the one with the many friends. In truth, the girl had exactly zero friends. One-year-olds didn't have friends; they had chew toys and existential meltdowns over lost pacifiers. The social butterfly in this equation wasn't the baby. Oh, no. It was Miss Nelly.
Miss Nelly, with her Southern charm and Rolodex of mothers, aunties, grandmothers, and auntie-wannabes. She'd invited everyone she could manage to send a message to, everyone she'd smiled at in the supermarket line or gossiped with at morning mass, to bring their babies, grandbabies, and great-nieces to Adelita's party.
"Your godmother is crazy," May said, glancing at Adelita who sat in her high chair, chewing thoughtfully on a silicone spoon while watching May decorate the cake.
Adelita gurgled and slapped the tray of her high chair in approval. May gave a tired chuckle and leaned in to drop a kiss on her soft, curly hair.
Miss Nelly was a divine gift. A pure miracle in human form. Without her, May didn't even want to think about it. But she did, constantly.
Without Miss Nelly pulling her into the fold and hiding her away, May would be as good as dead.
Just as she was about to put the cake in the fridge for a bit and feed Adelita, she heard a low hum and crunch of tires over gravel. Her spine stiffened. A car was pulling into the garage.
She looked out the window.
It was Mark's.
Her face lit up before she could school it, and a blush spread from her cheeks to her chest. Damn him. He always had this effect on her. Even now, when she was covered in flour, with icing stuck under her nails and her hair pulled into a wild bun that hadn't been brushed in a full day.
Still, her stomach fluttered.
She wasn't ready to see him. And yet she'd been hoping he would come.
She wiped her hands hurriedly on a towel.
Mark had been nothing but good to her. He showed up—consistently, solidly.
It seemed as if Miss Nelly's entrance into her life had cracked open a new stroke of only good luck for her. One with unexpected kindness. Mark was one of the brightest lights in her new life..
And Adelita too. Lord, how she adored the little girl. The way she laughed from her belly when Mark tossed her in the air, and how her entire body sagged in peace when May held her against her chest at night. A perfect, unasked-for gift.
Her brother, though…
That was another matter. It had been almost a year since the arrogant idiot had brought Adelita to Miss Nelly's doorstep.
The front door creaked open.
She heard the heavy footfalls on the tile.
"In here!" she shouted in the direction of the front door, wiping her hands again even though the towel was already stained with streaks of icing.
Mark strolled into the kitchen. The man had a way of filling a room with presence.
He ruffled Adelita's curls, and the baby cooed with delight, grabbing for his fingers.
Then he turned to May, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her stomach flutter. Her skin prickled beneath his touch, and her pulse did that dumb little staccato beat it always did when he was too close.
"Hey," he said, flashing her his boyish grin that was far too dangerous.
"Thank heavens you are here. Could you help me pick up some things in town?"
Mark's smile faltered just a bit as he gave an exaggerated groan, dragging a hand through his dark hair in mock protest. "Come on, I just got here."
She tilted her head, hands on her hips, knowing exactly which buttons to press. "Please… Miss Nelly isn't home and I have to pick up the party favours in fifteen minutes. Adelita hasn't had lunch yet and I haven't started with the cake decoration."
Mark sighed, loudly, theatrically, but his eyes were warm as they locked with hers. "You're lucky you're cute when you're desperate."
May flushed and pretended not to hear that part.
There had been moments between them but never gone far enough. Not as far as she and someone else anyway. One year ago, she had come undone in another man's arms. A man she barely knew. A man who was more mysterious than any spy movie she had ever seen.
Yet.
May smiled to herself. She turned back to the kitchen counter and began to prepare Adelita's lunch. Mashed sweet potatoes, diced carrots.
"Where's this place I need to pick up stuff?" Mark's voice called out casually from behind her.
"At the kiddies' store," May said without turning, using a spoon to test the temperature of the mash. "Just tell them you are there to pick up Miss Nelly's packages. The receipt is on the dining table. You can grab it on your way out."
She felt him behind her again before she saw him. That charged presence of his.
"What do I get in return?" he asked, one brow lifting with playful arrogance, his voice dipping just enough to brush the edges of suggestion.