LITMIR.BIZ

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in California, Chloe could sock away more cash. All she needed was time and no disasters. She lowered her face to wish for that, the candles warming her cheeks.

      “Not yet! Don’t wish yet!” Enzo’s wife, Natalie, waved at Chloe from down the table. “Enzo! Give it to her.” She tugged her husband’s sleeve.

      Enzo pulled an envelope from the dinner jacket he always wore when he appeared at his beloved restaurant, and passed it down the row with a somber nod.

      “We know your dream is cooking school,” Natalie said as the envelope reached Chloe. “So practice on us!” Natalie was ten years younger and far livelier than her husband.

      Puzzled, Chloe tore the envelope flap.

      “We want you to be our cook!” Natalie burst out.

      The card inside offered a too-generous salary for cooking for the Sylvestri family. “This is too much just to cook,” Chloe said.

      “So we add some light housekeeping.” Natalie beamed at her. “I finally talked Delores into retiring. It was frozen foods and takeout every night. Come save us, Chloe. Will you? Please?”

      “But…my job here…” she said, stunned by the offer.

      “We’ll fix the schedule,” Enzo said. “No trouble.”

      “Save your money and you’ll be in cooking school before you know it,” Natalie added. “That was your wish, right?”

      Exactly. “I don’t know what to say…”

      “Say yes and blow out your candles.”

      How could she turn them down? The Sylvestris had treated the Baxters like family since the Chicago days. “Yes,” she said softly. “Thank you so much.”

      Everyone applauded.

      “Now make a new wish,” Natalie commanded.

      “Okay,” she said, leaning down to the glowing cake.

      “Wish for Riley,” Sadie murmured. “Quick, before he escapes. Last chance for a b-day lay.”

      Chloe glanced up to see Riley putting his wallet away, ready to leave. He caught her gaze and saluted her before he turned to go.

      “He’s getting away,” Sadie said. “Go get him.”

      “Forget it,” she said. She couldn’t chase after the man. Not even for a date, let alone sex.

      But that would sure be…exciting. Different. Kind of crazy. When was she ever crazy? Never. She did the practical, responsible thing at every turn. She looked down at her candles, melted to stubs in hot puddles, the flames flickering fiercely, fighting going out with all their waxy might.

      Maybe it was time to try something different. Something wild and fun and just for her. Why not, now that she had a quarter century under her belt?

      Yeah. So, instead of a wish, she made herself a promise: The next time Riley Connelly walks through that door, I’ll ask him out.

      She blew out all twenty-five candles to cheers from her friends. Now came the best part—serving her cake. “This is called the Surprise Cake,” she announced to the group. “It’s ten cakes in one. Every piece is different so we can pass them around and share.”

      Chloe cut through the butter-rich frosting, passed out the pieces to oohs and aahs and waited for her friends to taste.

      “Ooh, cinnamon-nut?”…“Yummy, cherry cobbler!”…“Taste this. Is it raspberry cheesecake?”…“Mine’s peanut butter and…toffee? Yeah, toffee, yum.”

      So it went as everyone nibbled and exclaimed and passed their plates to nibble and exclaim again. Chloe was thrilled. This was why she cooked—to give this delight, made even more special when it was for people she loved.

      After her guests declared themselves stuffed, she opened her gift—a set of top-of-the-line knives they’d all pitched in for. “Thank you so much,” she said, tears welling. “This means so much. And, Natalie and Enzo, the job will be amazing.”

      Just as she sat down, the door opened and a man entered. Riley? Could it be? She blinked away the happy tears to be sure. Yep. It was Riley striding to the hostess stand, where Glenda handed him a cell phone. He must have left it in his booth.

      The next time Riley Connelly walks in the door…

      Was fate testing her resolve? How could she act with her party still going on? Next time. That was what she’d meant.

      Dammit, no. She’d made a promise and the smoke had barely cleared from her candles before she was negotiating it away. She stood so fast her chair scraped the floor.

      Everyone stopped talking and looked at her.

      “Thank you, everyone. This has been great, but I need to…I have to…get my wish,” she said, her face flaming, knowing everyone would watch her now. But if she didn’t act, she’d regret it. It was past time to get on with her life.

      She steadied her gaze on Riley, who looked puzzled, but waited to see what she wanted, his smile broader with each step she took toward him. She stopped inches away.

      “Hello there,” he said softly.

      “It’s my birthday…”

      “I gathered that.”

      “And when I blew out my candles, I promised myself the next time you walked in here, I would…”

      What? Ask you out? Not dramatic enough for her birthday high, for Riley’s magical reappearance, for the hopeful crowd behind her. She’d already leaped off the cliff. Now it was time to fly. “Just…this.” She rose on her tiptoes and planted her lips on his.

      For a second, she feared he’d break it off, but after the briefest hesitation, he tilted his head, deepened the kiss and pulled her into his arms.

      His mouth was warm and firm, and he tasted of rich, dark coffee, and she was so glad she’d taken the leap.

      Her friends roared and whistled, which finally made her laugh and she broke away. “Thank you,” she whispered.

      “No, thank you,” he said, his smile wicked. He still held her at the waist.

      Unsure of her next move, she was relieved when Sadie bustled over with her purse. “Go on. Have fun. We’ll pack up your gift and whatever’s left of that incredible cake.”

      “Are you sure?” she said.

      “Yes!” the entire group said in unison. Their laughter trailed her and Riley out the door, as though they were newlyweds off on their honeymoon.

      Once outside in the sudden quiet of the spring night, Chloe became painfully aware she’d just kissed a man to whom she’d never said more than “Booth or table?” and “Your server will be with you in a moment.”

      “Thanks for going along with me,” she said, stepping off the sidewalk between two cars. “It was out of the blue and a crazy sort of dare and I’ve had champagne and—”

      Riley cut her off with a kiss, pulling her into his arms and taking his time, exploring her mouth as comfortably as if they’d been lovers for years.

      She relaxed into the moment, not wanting it to end. If this were a movie, the director would cut to a bed and their naked bodies in golden lamplight. There would be no tense seconds, no awkward fussing with zippers and clasps and discussions of prophylactics and blood tests.

      She leaned back.

      Honk…honk…honk…honk…honk. The car alarm she’d set off brought her back to reality. She was no screen star embracing the man of her dreams. She was Chloe Baxter, talented cook with a problem father, a flaky sister and a cranky cat. Her goofy birthday promise had her making out in a parking lot like a hormone-crazed teenager.

      Riley laughed good-naturedly, not

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