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About ten minutes later, when Cass finally took a seat next to Ash, set down his own mug of coffee, and started piling pancakes and eggs on his plate, the conversation lulled a bit, and they ate. Ash helped Bri by cutting up a large pancake into small pieces and spooning out a little bit of the scrambled eggs onto her plate. Then, as she shoved a handful of eggs into her mouth, grinning, Ash started in on his own food.

“So,” Cass said after another few minutes, settling back in his chair. He took a sip of coffee and then continued. “In the spirit of surprising you, as you requested, while making sure we’re prepared for the weather and the day and all—” Ash snorted a laugh and then shook his head, and Cass grinned but continued. “We should leave soonish, and dress warm in layers. Be prepared with whatever Bri needs to be out until sometime after lunch-ish. And then, uh, if you’re feeling comfortable with my parents watching her tonight, we can go out just the two of us later.”

“Two! Two! Two!” Bri giggled and clapped, sending a tiny bit of scrambled egg flying toward Ash. It landed on his cheek. He grimaced and scrunched his eyes closed with a groan.

Cass’s deep laugh rumbled from his other side. “Here, let me . . .”

Warm skin brushed against Ash’s cheek, wiping away the egg.

“There we go.”

“Ah beh-uh!”

Ash laughed and opened his eyes again, glancing over at Cass, who had a soft, kind smile on his lips.

Lips that Ash had kissed last night.

The memory came flooding back to him, as it had several times already this morning, and heat rushed to his cheeks, forcing him to drop his eyes.

“Thank you,” he mumbled. He tipped his head toward the table and added, “Thank you for all of this, actually.”

He wished he had better words to articulate exactly what he meant and exactly how much he appreciated everything Cass had done for him. The cooking, the planning, the prep, the help with Bri . . . He hadn’t ever felt this cared for or pampered, and he’d only been here not even a full day yet. In some ways, it was overwhelming, like so much of this trip had been. But it was also a huge relief, a weight off his shoulders, not having to be responsible for everything, even if just for a little while.

Cass’s hand settled on Ash’s, and he gave a light squeeze. “I’m happy to,” he said.

“I know.” Again, Ash wanted to say more, to explain himself. But the words wouldn’t come, and so, instead, he pulled his hand away from under Cass’s, took a sip of his coffee, and then changed the topic. “Oh, uh, and yes, I’m fine with it if your parents are able to watch Bri for us. That would be really great.”

When he looked back up, Cass was smiling with an eagerness that sent a tingle of heat all the way down to Ash’s toes. He swallowed hard and blinked back the feeling.

“They adore her,” Cass said gently. “Just like I do.”

Ash could only nod in response, and thankfully, Bri chose that moment to slap both of her hands down on her plate, sending more bits of scrambled egg and a few pancake crumbs flying onto Ash and the table. They both laughed, and this time, Cass handed Ash a napkin to clean up.

Just as they finished eating, Cass’s parents joined them at the table. Ash greeted them, as did Bri in her usual exuberant manner, and then Ash excused himself and Bri to go get ready to leave while Cass grabbed some more plates from the cupboard for his parents.

Several hours later, Ash sat with Bri in his lap on a low rock wall in the aviary at Turtle Bay Exploration Park. Wonder and more of that deep sense of contentedness surrounded him as he watched Bri stare in awe at a colorful lorikeet that landed only inches away, on Cass’s hand. The green-and-yellow bird, whose name was Orbit according to the small metal band on its foot, chirped and then dipped its head to eat some bird food from the little plastic cup Cass held. Bri’s gorgeous blue eyes grew wider.

“Burr?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper. Both of her hands came up to her cheeks. “Wow, burr.”

“Yeah, pretty bird, huh?” Ash said, and Bri nodded, her eyes still huge.

“Pwee burr. Cass burr,” she murmured. The bird chirped again, and she giggled, then quickly covered her mouth with both hands. “Shh, shh, burr.” She pointed at it and looked back at Ash. “Un-ca Ash, see burr?”

“I do, sweet girl.”

It was amazing, seeing Bri so happy and enthralled. Everything Cass had planned for them so far had been like this—first their walk through the McConnell Arboretum and Botanical Gardens, then the hour or so Bri had spent running around and playing at Babe’s Corral Playground, and now this. And like everywhere they’d been so far today, the aviary, called the Parrot Playhouse, was busy, full of kids with their grownups and even a few older couples there without children. Everyone was doing just what they were—laughing with wonder at the small, colorful birds perching on their arms, shoulders, and even heads.

Yet to Ash, it seemed like the three of them were the only ones in the whole world, here together in their little bubble where everything was bright and happy and joyful.

Cass carefully moved his hand closer to Bri as the bird ate out of the small cup. He smiled very softly and said, “Isn’t this amazing? Do you like the birds, Bri?”

Bri leaned a little closer and whispered, “Da, burr,” still completely in awe. She looked back at Ash. “Me burr?” she asked, pointing to her chest. “Me?”

Ash smiled and nodded. “Let’s see what we can do, okay?”

She grinned again but sat very, very still. After a brief discussion, Ash took the small cup of nectar from Cass. The bird that had been on Cass’s hand promptly jumped to Ash’s, and he laughed lightly at the odd sensation and shook his head. Then, Cass helped Bri move her arm up right next to Ash’s hand until the bird had no option but to hop onto Bri’s arm.

Bri let out a squeal when the bird landed on her, its toes curling into her heavy coat. Thankfully, the noise and the slight jerk of her arm as she steadied herself didn’t scare away the determined little beast. It hopped again so it was closer to Ash’s hand and then continued eating. Bri’s mouth was glued shut, her eyes as wide as saucers, and she looked up at Cass and then back at Ash before focusing on the bird again.