Birthright

comments on the drive home, then finally asked, “So? What did you think?”
    “About what?”
    “About dinner.”
    “Good. I haven’t had prime rib in months.”
    “Not the food, you moron. Them. My parents. Dr. and Mrs. Dunbrook.”
    “They’re good, too. They’re holding up their end. It takes a lot of spine to do that.”
    “They liked you.”
    “They didn’t hate me.” He rolled his shoulders. “I figured they would. And that we’d get through the meal being chilly and correct and polite. Or they’d slip poison in my food when I wasn’t looking.”
    “They liked you,” she repeated. “And you held up your end, too. So thanks.”
    “I did wonder about this one thing.”
    “Which is?”
    “Are you going to get two birthdays every year? I don’t like shopping in the first place, and if I’m supposed to come up with two presents, it’s really going to tick me off.”
    “I haven’t seen one yet.”
    “I’ll get around to it.” He pulled in the lane, bumped up the narrow gravel road. “You’ve got a situation, babe. Small town, smaller dig. Your parents are bound to run into the Cullens if they stay more than a night in the area.”
    “I know. I’ll deal with it when I have to.”
    She got out of the car, stood for a moment in the cooling night air. “Love’s a lot of work, so I’m told. So we’ll work.”
    He took her hand, lifted it to his lips.
    “You never used to do that,” she told him. “You do it a lot now.”
    “A lot of things I didn’t used to do. Wait a minute.” His fingers dipped into her cleavage.
    She gave a low chuckle. “Now that , you used to do.”
    He slid it out of her bodice, held it in front of her face.Dangling from his thumb and index finger was a bracelet, glittering gold, sparkling from the etchings cut in a complex Byzantine design. “Now how’d that get in there?”
    All she could manage was, “Oh, wow.”
    “Happy birthday.”
    “It’s . . . it’s jewelry. You never . . . you never gave me jewelry.”
    “That’s a rotten lie. I gave you a gold band, didn’t I?”
    “Wedding rings don’t count.” She snatched the bracelet out of his hand, then examined it. The gold was so fluid, she almost expected it to drip out of her fingers. “It’s beautiful. Seriously. Jeez, Jacob.”
    Delighted with her reaction, he took it, hooked it around her wrist. “I heard a rumor that the contemporary female enjoys body adornments. Looks good on you, Cal.”
    She traced her finger over the gold. “It’s . . . Wow.”
    “If I’d known a bauble would shut you up, I’d’ve buried you in them a long time ago.”
    “You can’t spoil it with insults. I love it.” She caught his face in her hands, kissed him. She drew back, just enough so that she could meet his eyes, look into them and see herself.
    And kissed him again, sliding into him as her hands slipped back into his hair.
    Then with a quiet purr, the kiss deepened. And the pleasure. Soft and slow and sweet, while his arms came around her. They stood, swaying in the night, melting into each other.
    On a sigh, she turned her cheek to his and watched the dance of fireflies around them. “I really love it.”
    “I got that impression.”
    He took her hand again, walked her to the house. He could hear the sounds of the television as he eased the front door open. “Crowded in there. Let’s go straight up.”
    “Your room’s down here.”
    “I behaved,” he reminded her, and tugged her quickly upstairs. “Now I want to know what’s under the dress.”
    “Well, a promise is a promise.” She stepped into her room, then stared. “Where the hell did that come from?”
    The bed was in the center of the room. It was old, the iron headboard painted silver. There were new sheets on the mattress, and a hand-lettered sign propped on the pillow.
HAPPY BIRTHDAY, CALLIE
    “Mattress came from the discount place by the mall. The headboard and frame from a yard sale. The team chipped in.”
    “Wow.” Delighted, she hurried over to sit on the side of the bed and bounce. “This is great. Really great. I should go down and thank everyone.”
    Grinning, Jake closed the door at his back, flipped the lock. “Thank me first.”

Twenty-six
    M aybe it was the new bed, or the sex. Maybe it was the fact that she felt she’d passed through this birthday in two stages, but Callie’s mood was strong and bright.
    She felt so in tune with her team—and so guilty at the memory of searching