“I don’t know, man.” Pika shakes his head.
I know he has seen the fear that comes into her eyes even when just her brother’s name is brought up.
My jaw clenches and I growl, “Let me worry about Myla.”
“Done,” he mutters, holding up his hands, hearing the warning in my voice.
“We need to meet Rich,” Junior says, coming back into the room.
“Let’s go,” I say.
We go out to the car, and this time, Junior gets behind the wheel and Pika hops in the back seat. When we arrive at the law firm, Rich and his father are both waiting. I let them know as much as I can. Rich’s father has been taking care of my family since before I was born, but I trust anyone only so much.
“Are you heading back home?” Rich asks.
I look at him and shake my head. “No, I need to find a house here in Vegas before I leave.”
“You’ve got your condo,” he says, confused.
“I can’t control the building. I need to find something out of town that has a few acres.”
“I know an agent. I’ll get you the info.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, shaking his hand before heading back out to the car.
I now have a few days to get things done before heading back to Hawaii and explaining to Myla why we will be staying in Vegas for a while. I know she feels safe at home, and I hate taking her out of that environment, but I need to be here, and I won’t be here without her.
Over the next two days, I look at over two dozen houses, and I am just about to give up and go home to my wife when I finally find a house I know Myla will love. It’s a two-story adobe-style home on twenty acres. The house is much smaller than our house in Hawaii, but its open floor plan and updates are perfect for what we need, and I know my men can make it secure enough for us to live there comfortably while staying in Vegas.
*
I walk into the house and go to the kitchen, wanting to grab a bottle of water before heading to find Myla. She doesn’t know I’m home yet. We spoke earlier in the afternoon, and I told her I would see her tomorrow, but after signing the contract on the house, I got on the plane to come home. My body felt like I was going through withdrawals from being away from her.
I open the fridge, and I’m grabbing a bottle of water when something catches my attention out of the corner of my eye. I stand to my full height and flip the overhead light on. My eyes take in a cake that looks like it could grace the cover of a cookbook. I walk towards it and take in all the detailing. The white frosting looks smooth yet creamy. Three layers sit tiered one on top of the other, each layer displaying a single flower so perfect that, if you were not looking closely, you would believe they were real.
“You didn’t tell me it was your birthday. Uncle Frank mentioned it, and I couldn’t believe that I didn’t know.”
I look from the cake to my woman, my wife, who is wearing a pair of light sleep pants and a tank top. Her shoulder is resting against the doorjamb, her arms crossed under her breasts, lifting them higher, and the mass of hair she normally keeps tied up is down around her shoulders, framing her face.
“I never celebrate it,” I tell her, and I honestly didn’t even remember it’s my birthday until this moment.
“That’s what they said, but I wanted to make you a cake anyways.” She shrugs.
I like that. I could imagine her floating around the kitchen, baking a cake with a smile on her face—the smile I only ever see on her when she’s doing something she loves.
“You gonna feed me a piece?”
Her eyes go half-mast, and that look has my cock jerking in my pants. I step towards her, placing a hand on her hip, then look over her shoulder, seeing my uncle standing in the hall.
“Frank, you’re dismissed.”
He smiles and shakes his head, knowing exactly why I’m being so short with him.
“Thanks, Uncle Frank,” Myla tells him then turns red when he gives her a wink.
Once I know he’s out of earshot, I use my hand on her hip to pull her closer to me. “Missed you, makamae,” I whisper against her mouth before kissing and licking the seam of her lips.
Her mouth opens and her body melts against mine as her taste floods my system. Her nails dig into my skin through the material of my dress shirt. With my mouth still on hers, I lead her backwards to the counter, lifting her up, spreading her thighs, and making room for my hips.
“I missed you too,” she hisses as I nip at the skin on her neck and make my way over the swells of her breasts. She grabs my hair, causing me to growl as she pulls my mouth away from her skin. “Hold on,” she whimpers.
I lift my head to look into her eyes. “What?” I question, breathing heavily.
She pushes my chest, and I regretfully help her off the counter and watch her as she goes to the fridge and reaches on top of it. Then she pulls a small box down before she turns the lights off. I wonder what she’s doing, and then I see a flicker of light as a single candle on the top of the cake is lit.
“You have to make your wish,” she tells me shyly.
I look at her beautiful face, which is only lit by the small candle, and wonder, not for the first time, what the fuck I did to please the gods so.
“I already got my wish,” I tell her gruffly.
Her eyes go soft and her hair moves slightly as she shakes her head. “Do you know the reason you blow out a candle on a cake on your birthday?” she questions, carrying the cake towards me.
I shake my head.
“In ancient Greece, they did it to pay tribute to the goddess Artemis. They made a round cake to represent the shape of the moon and added candles to represent the moonlight. Later, people believed that, when the candle was blown out, your wish would go to the gods to grant. Some people believe the smoke from the candles will chase away evil spirits for another year. There is tradition in everything, every event, every holiday, and this is one tradition I want to share with you and, someday, share with our children.”
Oh yeah, I like this. I don’t know what I did to deserve having this for the rest of my life, but I know I will find a way to be worthy of it. I walk towards her, not even thinking about my wish, knowing what it is before I step in front of her and blow out the candle. I take the cake from her hands and gently set it on the counter before turning back to face her. Then I pull her by the waist, sliding my hands under her tank top, around her back, down over her ass, and inside her pants.
I slowly pull the thin material of her sleep pants over her hips and ass then down her thighs until gravity takes over and they fall to the floor. Then I travel my hand up over the curve of her hips and the dip of her waist until my hands meet the material of her tank top, pushing it up her sides and over her head.