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Frank grumbles under his breath, “Yeah, you do.”
I slide into the seat, and Cash takes hold of my hand again, placing it in his lap. I don’t want to fall back into his arms so easily. He should have to chase me a bit more, but it’s honestly so damn nice just having him close that I let go of my anxiety and focus on the drive.
The restaurant isn’t far, and I recognize it’s the same place I ran into Cash months earlier when he still thought I was married, and I thought he was an ass.
Apparently, I wasn’t completely wrong.
I roll my eyes at my inner commentary and try to get rid of the snark.
Cash’s hand grazes my lower back, the palm of his hand warming my entire body, as we move into the restaurant and I wait for the hostess to bring us to some private table, imagining that my billionaire baby daddy isn’t going to sit with a group of people.
Instead, she leads us to a table filled with families. On our side alone there are five kids who seem to be approximately five or six and two women sitting at the end. They give us an apologetic gaze and one of them mouths, “It’s my son’s birthday.”
I smile warmly, hoping that I exude the type of air that says we are just fine with sharing a table with a bunch of children. Cash sits me on the end, leaving him sandwiched between me and a precocious little boy who is sticking his chopsticks into his nose and pretending to be a walrus.
“Is she your wife?” the little boy asks Cash.
I stifle a giggle and Cash eyes me before turning to the boy. “No, but she’s my friend.”
For some reason his reply leaves me sad.Are we even friends?I can’t be sure.
The little boy nods, pointing to the girl beside him. “Yeah, Sadie is my friend too. And that woman over there, she’s my mom. If you’re single maybe you could ask her out.”
The woman’s eyes grow wide, and I cover my mouth to hide the giggle that almost escapes. “Timothy, we don’t ask people if they’re single,” she admonishes him, “and we don’t ask people to ask Mommy out.”
Cash doesn’t miss a beat. “That’s okay, Timothy. It’s always good to ask for what you want. Important life lesson.” He winks at the mother, who turns several shades of red.
Both women eye Cash. With his dark hair imperfectly styled on his head, his whiskey-brown eyes that have just a hint of mischief in them when he speaks to Timothy, and a green sweater that makes his olive skin tone shine, he is delicious. Or as Rachel would say, man candy.
Looking back in my direction, Cash teases, “What are you having to drink,friend?”
I lean into the teasing lilt in his voice and relax. We could be friends. Maybe that’s all we’ll ever be.
And that’s not the worst thing. He’s the father of my child. It’s good to be friends. Maybe we’ll co-parent and keep things civil and attend birthday parties like this, and just…move on. I mean that wouldn’t be horrible, right?
As if he can read my thoughts, Cash moves his hand to my knee and squeezes, his fingers remaining on the inside of my thigh and sending very unfriendly thoughts my way. “Uh, just an iced tea, decaf,” I stutter to the waitress who is standing beside me.
“Make that two,” Cash says.
“You can have a drink, Cash. Just because I’m…”—I pause uncomfortably—“doesn’t mean you can’t drink.”
He smiles and reaches out his hand to mine, squeezing three times. “Pregnant, Gracie. You don’t have to dance around the issue. You’re pregnant, and if you can’t drink then neither will I.”
Color me shocked. The CEO of a liquor company giving up alcohol. Yeah, that won’t last. But I shrug as if it’s no big deal.
We place our orders and wait for the show to begin. “So, what made you choose this place?” I ask, unsure of what else to talk about.
When I envisioned this night, I imagined we would have been at a private table where we could discuss everything. The baby, our relationship, the future. Lay it all out there. Really see where we stand. But this is definitely not the setting for that conversation.
Cash turns so his entire body faces mine, his legs caging me in. “You know how my grandparents raised me and my siblings,” he says, and I nod for him to go on. “Well, we didn’t have the typical birthdays with lots of kids and bouncy houses.”
Cash’s eyes turn to the group beside us. The kids are loud, the moms look worn out and they are sipping their wine exaggeratingly just to show how worn out they are, but there is no bouncy house in sight. I smile to let Cash know I’m listening.
“Anyway, there were four of us, which is a lot to handle for parents, let alone older parents.”
I nod in understanding.
“But they wanted us to have special celebrations. They just couldn’t bring a bunch of other kids along. So, every year we would go for hibachi. My grandfather would have sake squirted in his mouth, my grandmother would begrudgingly laugh at his antics, my brothers and I would fight over who could catch the zucchini slices that the chef tossed in our mouths, and at the end of the night we’d all share fried ice cream.” His eyes warm as he talks, as if he’s going back in time and reliving his memories. His shoulders lift in a shrug. “It wasn’t your typical birthday cake with candles, but it’s what we did to celebrate.”
