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Finally, when the drive is over, I almost jump out of the car. I take in a deep breath of fresh air, but somehow Hope’s delicious perfume still lingers around, making me mad.
It’stime to cut the cake. Everyone joins around the table when Zander places the perfection Hope has prepared on the table. It is elegant and classy, like my beautiful wife.
I glance at her as she peeks around, as if observing everyone’s reaction until her gaze finds mine.
My breath hitches when she nervously looks away for a second. What the fuck is this? Am I attracted to Hope?
My body would think so. Every time I look her way, I get a semi-erection. But how is this fucking possible? It’s Hope for God’s sake. She’s the one person in the world I cannot fuck, literally.
Thankfully, my crazy thoughts are interrupted by the oohs and aahs around us over the cake.
Get it together, you stupid prick.
After the cake, there is a buffet-style dinner and drinks laid in the garden for everyone. Of course, my brother would settle for nothing less for Rose and she does deserve all the consideration. I get myself a plate filled with appetizers and perch on a couch next to Kristy. A few seconds later, Hope arrives holding a glass filled with red liquid. She must have opted for a fruit punch. My hand holding the fork digging into a piece of pesto-coated ball of cheese stays in the air until she takes a seat across from me.
Fuck! I can’t remember a time when someone pulled my attention away from food. But Hope is a hell of a distraction today.
Focus, Zach. You can’t fuck this up.
I continue to repeat the line in my head. Around me, Kristy and Hope talk about our kids and how the bakery is doing. Hope gets up a few more times, and unlike me, she’s more interested in the punch than the food. She must be liking that sugary monstrosity.
I’m about to go for a refill when Ray, followed by Alex and Charlie, bounces toward me. “Dad, can I please stay at Charlie’s house for the weekend?”
“Um, I don’t know, buddy.” I look at Hope and her eyes widen, surprised by our son’s request.
“Oh, it’ll be fun. We’re taking the kids to the amusement park for the weekend.” Kristy beams while the boys bounce on their feet.
“Wouldn’t these three and Chloe be too much for you?” Hope nervously twists her wedding ring and I can see she doesn’t like the idea.
“Not at all. Let Ray come with us. Please, Hope.” Kristy clutches her hands to her chest, possibly already planning different activities for the boys.
“Please, Mom, can I go?”
“But you haveneverstayed a night away from me.” Hope’s anxiety is contagious. Even though I know Ray will be as safe with Kristy as at our home, I can’t help but imagine what all can go wrong in an amusement park.
“Hope, we will keep him safe. We will take enough help with us.” Oscar nods at me and my anxiety settles a bit realizing thathelpwould include his family’s security. “Ray and Alex are like Charlie for us. Let the boys have some fun.”
A smile pulls on Hope’s serious face when the three boys adorably hug each other.
God, they are too cute for their own good.
“Let him go, Hopper,” I tell my smiling wife.
“Okay. I will send some of his stuff with William in the morning.”
The food-and-drinks round progresses, but as always, I switch to soda after two beers. I’ve a hard time managing one addiction in my life and I don’t want to add another on top of it. My gaze lands on my wife who, for the fourth time, denies the waiter when he offers her a glass of red wine. She seems pretty comfortable with the punch. In all my time with her, she has never gone for a second glass of champagne or wine. I’m starting to think that’s because she doesn’t like being out of her senses. Hope is one of the most careful people I know. Careful about what she says, how she reacts.
I’m inspecting the dessert table when Oscar joins me and smirks at my plate filled with a pecan pie and two macarons.
“I am going to hit it extra hard in the gym tomorrow,” I tell him, even though that fucker should have no business in what I eat. “Don’t tell me Zander didn’t order your favorite Scotch?” I motion toward the red punch in his hand. “Why is everyone gulping down this punch?”
“I wouldn’t recommend gulping down this.” He hands the drink to me, and I take a sip.
I can’t miss the slight taste of booze under the peach taste. “Gin?” I cock my eyebrow.
Oscar shakes his head. “Vodka.”
“Fuck! How many of these has Hope had?” I place the dessert plate back on the stand, and with a pounding heart, go to find my wife.
