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When he’s not there, I frown.

“Is Owen napping?” That’d be unusual.

“Oh, my mom picked him up.”

I feel my brows climb up my forehead as I re-enter the kitchen. “She did?”

“Yeah.” Faye nods nervously as she tucks her hair behind her ear. “Now that I’m no longer breast feeding—she’s been wanting to take him and—” She sighs heavily. “It’s time.”

“I’m proud of you.”

Her cheeks flame even hotter, if that's possible.

“She's—uh—going to keep him for the night.” When my brows rise, she adds, “The whole night.”

That heat in my blood starts to boil. When I speak, it comes out thickly. “Is that so?”

She pulls in a breath that trembles. “I thought it would be nice for your birthday and all.” I watch as she wets lips I want to kiss. “Maybe we can go out for dinner?” Her eyes dart around the kitchen as though she's looking for something to save her.

She settles on the cake, making a grandiose voila gesture. “Look, I made you cake.”

She's adorable.

“I see that.”

“I attempted to do that strawberry filling you like.” She starts to prattle. “I'm not sure how it turned out. I couldn’t exactly try a bite without it looking—well, you know—like I took a bite out of your cake.” Her face is apple red now. She sighs another heavy sigh that drops her shoulders. “I hope you like it.”

“You made me cake, Faye. I'm going to love it.”

Her smile turns soft and happy. Hell, but I love that I can do this to her.

“Good,” she says sweetly. A little breathlessly, asks, “What do you want for dinner?”

“Anything,” I say. But I think, you.

She rolls her eyes, folding her arms under her breasts as she pops her hip to the side, tapping her toe. “It's your birthday. You have to pick.”

“I say we stay in, then. Just the two of us.”

Her breath catches, and she nods. “Yeah, I'd—I'd like that.”

I can't help but grin as I watch her. I propose, “What do you say we try that new Italian sub shop?

She nods, nibbling at her lip. “Sure.”

“Mmm,” Faye moans as she sits back against the couch. “That was delicious.”

I swipe at the sauce on the corner of her mouth with my thumb, licking it clean as she tracks me with wide eyes. “Yeah,” I agree. “Delicious.”

Her pupils dilate. She swallows hard. Her lips part, close, and part again. Then she jumps up from the couch like someone lit a fire under her ass.

I dip my head to hide my grin, choking down laughter.

I hear the sound of a lighter flicking in the kitchen and Faye appears with my cake, candles and all.

Her smile is sweet and shy. The candles on the cake cast shadows on her face, the flames dancing in eyes I’ve been lost in for years.

She wets her lips again, and that heat that never seems to die simmers inside my blood as I watch her move toward me.