Love Him Desperate (On the Market #5) - E.M. Lindsey Page 0,19
twinkie was crushed and several of the matches had broken, but he drew out the little cake and shoved one of the wooden sticks into the center.
“What…” Dmitri’s voice was a little breathless, and his smile was hesitant, but growing as Raphael struck another match and lit his makeshift candle.
“I’m not going to sing. That’s my gift to you tonight. But if you have a wish, I thought it might be a good time to make it.” He held out the cake. “Herzlichen Glückwunsch zum Geburtstag,” he said, and when Dmitri’s eyes widened, he laughed. “Happy Birthday.”
Dmitri flushed. “Oh. Um.”
There was a pause, then he watched Dmitri close his eyes and take in a breath, putting the flame out with a single puff. “Don’t tell me your wish,” Raphael murmured when Dmitri looked at him, “otherwise it won’t come true.”
Dmitri bit his lip and took the twinkie out of his hands, breaking it in half, then hesitated. “Do you want some?”
Raphael shook his head. “No, thank you. And I know it’s not much, but…”
Dmitri swallowed thickly, then closed his eyes in a long, slow blink. “It’s everything. It’s perfect. Thank you.” He took a bite, then another, until all that was left was a bit of the white, chemical frosting left on the edge of his fingers. “Have any of your birthday wishes ever come true?” Dmitri asked.
Raphael smiled as they both turned and looked back up at the sky. The tips of grass along the field were illuminated with the full moon hanging heavily over the mountain peak, and they moved in the light breeze. “I don’t think I’ve ever made one. I don’t like being disappointed, and I don’t trust the universe.”
“I only made a real one once,” Dmitri said. “Usually I just wished for whatever gift I knew I was getting, but when I was twelve…” He trailed off, then cleared his throat. “It was probably stupid, but I don’t think I’ve ever wanted something so badly.”
“Did it come true?”
There was a silence, not quite oppressive, but thick and imposing. Then Dmitri let out a tiny sigh, and Raphael felt him shrug where he was pressed against him. “I don’t know yet. I’m still waiting.”
“I’ll spare some of my faith for you, then. Since I’m not using any of it for myself.”
He could hear Dmitri’s grin in his voice when he rolled a little closer to him, and his breath was hot against the side of his face. “How do you say thank you in German.”
Raphael’s grin ached, and he felt something inside him alight, content in ways he never expected. “Danke.”
Dmitri repeated it, his tongue curling wrongly around the accent. “Was that right?”
Raphael closed his eyes, then nodded. “It was perfect.”
Chapter Four
Dmitri always liked the lake. It was kind of his safe space away from town—from the judgmental whispers and prying eyes just waiting for his next fuck-up. It didn’t matter that he’d kept his head down and hands busy. Since Owen took off, they didn’t want to forgive. They especially didn’t want to forget.
Making the trek out to the lake was something he’d done as a kid, when his parents would start to fight, and his dad would start to drink. He’d burrow in the bushes that were thick enough to create a small canopy over him, and he’d pretend he was an animal settling in for the night.
The lake wasn’t the same as it had been then, though. The serenity of endless trees mirrored across the water was now marred by the buildings stretching across the far shore. A road connected them that had destroyed the feeling of seclusion, but he understood why it existed. He understood that the Motels had invested in the town and that the bookshop had been saved. There were new restaurants, which had out of town appeal thanks to the waterfront views. He knew that people’s lives were more secure than before, but he missed when Cherry Creek had been a nowhere town, off anyone’s radar.
It was quiet in the mornings though, and he took comfort in that. He parked a few spaces away from, Shalom, the newest restaurant owned by Levi, then walked around the side of the building and sat on the edge of the new dock with his feet hanging above the water. A murder of crows sat along the bank, picking at something he didn’t look at too closely, and he rested his head against the support beam and closed his eyes.