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So he liked lights and cared about ambience. If Tris could spend half an hour fretting over getting freaking marinara just right, he could have a few candles.
Assuming he could find some, which he could not. He’d have to rectify that in the future.
Why? You know this isn’t going to continue. They don’t want anything serious.
Nope, he was not going down that road tonight.
He was just about to give up when he bumped into a dented, mashed box that turned out to be a half-used package of birthday candles. Not exactly what he’d been going for, but hey, Tris had made muffins last week and a couple were still in the jar. They could work.
Maybe he’d win some charm points that made up for what he lost for style.
A quick detour to the kitchen netted him two muffins, not three. So he substituted a leftover pastry Tris had brought home from some tasting platter and arranged them on a plate before sticking in the candles and lighting them up. The candles leaned sideways and the flames danced more than was probably safe, but good enough.
Carefully, he carried his snack-for-three down the hall. This would make her laugh if nothing else.
And probably give them approximately two minutes of ambient lighting before the candles became a fire risk.
“Okay, so I didn’t come prepared,” Randy said when they just stared at him as he entered the living room. “Normally, I’d have actual candles, but these will have to do.”
“Normally when? You haven’t brought a woman here ever.”
Ignoring his buddy, Randy set the plate on the coffee table beside the chilled bottle of Malbec and three wine glasses. One was full, the other two were nearly empty.
“Is it someone’s birthday?” Juliet asked.
Tris snorted. “Um, no, unless it’s yours. More like I guess he thinks this is romantic?”
“Not romance,” Randy said quickly, taking a seat opposite them. “Just ambient lighting.”
“Ambient lighting, right. Because those old as fuck candles won’t melt into my petit four and nearly stale carrot muffins anytime now.”
“Make a wish,” Randy said to Juliet. “Close your eyes,” he added when she started to speak. “And wish. Then blow out the candles.”
Juliet scooted to the edge of the couch. “I’ve never done this when it wasn’t someone’s birthday.”
Tris shook his head. “You’re not the only one.”
“Just make a wish, all right? Don’t tell us what it is and blow them out.”
She shut her eyes. “All of them? What about you guys? Don’t you get wishes too?”
“I’ve already gotten mine for tonight.” Lips twitching, Randy ignored Tris as he clasped his hands by his heart. “Tris can’t wish because he has a shriveled up soul. To wish would mean he actually had hope he could have something new.”
Randy regretted the words as soon as they were out. They were messing around, just kidding. Tris didn’t mean anything by his jabs. That was just the way he was. But what Randy had said unintentionally cut deeper.
Juliet obviously didn’t pick up on the tension caused by Randy’s remark—if there even was any. With Tristan, it was almost impossible to tell. He just poured more wine and smoothly snagged Juliet’s glass to do the same.
“Okay, I wished. Ready?” She gathered her loose dark hair in her hand and held it back before leaning forward to blow.
She took out all three candles with one exhale, and Tris whistled. “Look at that pucker, baby.” He tugged her into his arms for a quick kiss and she responded eagerly, fisting a hand in his shirt before easing back to beam at Randy.
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sp; “I’ve been practicing.” She tucked her tongue in her cheek and fluttered her lashes, making both men laugh. “But unfortunately, I can’t eat anything else right now. Tristan stuffed me.”
“Not yet, but I will soon.” He nudged her leg and she grinned, downing some of her wine.
“So cocky.”
