When I’m Gone (Rosemary Beach #11)(43)
Author: Abbi Glines

Laughing, I grabbed the small clutch I’d bought last year at a thrift store but never had a chance to use. It was metallic gold but simple, with a wristlet strap. “Let’s go dance,” I told him, as he took my hand and tucked it into the crook of his arm.

“I got moves, girl. You just wait.”

I had no doubt he did.

We headed into town instead of out of it, but I knew there was nowhere to dance in Rosemary Beach. Frowning, I glanced over at Jimmy, who was singing “Born in the U.S.A.” and tapping his steering wheel like it was drums.

“Where are we dancing?” I asked.

“Ah, some place called FloraBama,” he replied, flashing me a smile that was too big. Something was off.

“But we aren’t headed out of town,” I pointed out.

He nodded in agreement. “Yeah. Gotta drop something off first at the club.”

Well, that made sense. I sat back and watched the small town pass by as we turned into the back entrance of the club where the workers parked. Jimmy drove down toward a shell road that seemed to lead out to the water.

Was he dropping something off at the beach?

“Here we are,” he said, smiling at me as he swung open the door. We had driven down as far as we could go.

“If you’ll just walk down this wooden walkway toward that light up ahead,” Jimmy said, pointing me toward what looked like the top of a small tent from here. There were palm trees in the way.

“Do you need me to drop it off?” I asked, trying to figure out what he was asking me.

“Yep. Only you can drop off you. Happy birthday, Reese. You look amazing. Now, go follow that path,” he said with a wink, then climbed back into his car and drove off. I stood there looking at the path and back to where Jimmy had left.

It was then that it starting sinking in. Jimmy had dropped me off. Me. I turned and headed down the wooden path. Halfway down, I couldn’t take it anymore, so I started to run. I knew who was going to be at the end of this path. I knew who he’d dropped me off to. And I wanted to get there.

Once I broke free out of the palm-lined walkway, I saw him.

He was wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows and a pair of khaki shorts. He stood inside a white tent illuminated by candlelight, with a three-tiered birthday cake beside him. It was a pretty pale pink and sparkled under the dim lights. Silver balloons filled the tent.

“Happy birthday, Reese,” Mase said, smiling.

I let out a startled laugh, then burst into tears and ran for him.

He met me halfway, picked me up in his arms, and buried his face in my neck. “Surprise.”

I leaned back and kissed him hard. I didn’t know how else to express the emotion that was barreling through me. It was so overwhelming, I felt like I might combust from happiness. He’d done this all for me. A cake and balloons. And most importantly, him.

“How did you know it was my birthday?” I asked, even though the answer was obvious: Jimmy. I had thought about telling Mase but worried he’d think I was asking him to come back again. I didn’t want that, so I’d just kept it to myself.

“You should have been the one to tell me, not Jimmy. I never want to miss your birthday. Ever.”

I wiped the tears from my face and beamed up at this wonderful man who for some reason wanted to be with me. “You and your words,” I said, then kissed him again.

His big, strong hands wrapped around my waist and held me there as we tasted and fed off each other. Having him here with me was the best birthday gift ever. Even without a cake and balloons. He was perfect.

“Come on, you have to blow out the candles, and then I get to feed you cake,” he murmured against my lips.

“That’s a lot of cake for just us,” I said, not even trying to pretend I didn’t love that he got me a ginormous cake.

He chuckled. “We’ll eat our fill, and you can take some home, and then we can send the leftovers to friends.”

I liked that idea. “I may eat too much,” I said, looking at the creamy icing and already licking my lips. I would have to walk for days nonstop to burn off these calories.

Mase winked at me. “Good. I like the idea of that hot ass jiggling a little more.”

I really needed to fan myself.

He stuck a candle into the top tier and shrugged. “I was going to get twenty-three candles, but Harlow pointed out that the breeze out here was too much. I’d never get them to stay lit. So I went with the one.”

He struck a match and hovered over the candle to protect it as he lit it.

“Make a wish, baby.”

I couldn’t think of anything I didn’t have right now . . . except for one thing. But I knew wishes didn’t take away the past. They couldn’t change what had been done. So instead, I said a small thank you for what I’d been given and blew out the candle.

Mase began slicing a very large piece of cake and took a fork and looked up at me. “Come sit with me.” He nodded to the white chaise longue that sat in the corner overlooking the gulf.

He sat down and opened his arms for me to sink into. I was half on top of him when his arms wrapped around me.

“That piece is too big,” I said, eyeing the red filling.

“We’re sharing,” he informed me. “Open up.”

I did as he said, and Mase slid the bite into my mouth. The sweet cream of the icing and the raspberry filling were delicious. “Mmm,” I said approvingly.

“I like watching you eat. And feeding you,” Mase said, as he scooped up another piece of the cake. He started moving it to my mouth, but I shook my head.

“Your piece,” I informed him.

“Watching your tongue dart out to lick your lips and listening to you moan is so much better than me eating this cake,” he said, and he rubbed some of the icing on my mouth.

I opened my mouth, trying not to laugh as he slipped in another bite.

“Yeah, there comes that tongue,” he said, sounding completely fascinated with watching me eat my cake.

I finished chewing and swallowed, then shook my head again. “I need a break in between bites,” I told him, laughing while he held another piece up to my face.

“I like your boots,” he said, instead of arguing with me. “I want to see you in nothing but those boots.”

My purchase had been well worth the cost.

“Please eat more for me. It’s so fucking sexy,” he begged, running his nose up my neck.

Giggling, I turned and looked at him. “How is me eating sexy?”