“No!”
The anguished cry rose up in unison around the yard as Australia lost a wicket to England. Beside Ethan on the outdoor sofa, Clay groaned. In the faint glow of the white Christmas lights they’d strung up for their backyard wedding and never taken down, Clay’s cheeks were ruddy with a bit too much sun and beer.
Ethan squeezed Clay’s thigh. “It’s okay. Still a lot of game left.” The heat of the day lingered even though the stars blinked faintly above the light of Mullaloo, the quiet seaside Perth suburb where he and Clay had settled in their own little house. His shoulder pressed against Clay’s, and he nudged him slightly. Sitting on their feet, Gilly happily chewed a rubber kangaroo.
Clay nudged back and gave him a smile. “Would just be nice to have them win on my birthday.” He looked back at the big screen Pete had set up in the yard, wincing at the replay.
Sam leaned on the sofa arm, a hand on her rounding belly. “Whatever happens, you’ve already scored a half-century for Australia, Dad.”
The people around them laughed, and Ethan missed what Sam said next, but by the looks of the teasing smile she gave Clay, it was something else about turning fifty. Clay laughed good-naturedly.
As the cricket came back on, everyone’s attention returned to the large screen. Pete had rigged it so his laptop was getting the TV feed from inside, so they had captions and everything. He’d also set up speakers, and though Ethan worried it was too loud, the neighbors didn’t seem to mind since he’d invited them all to the party.
They’d been barbecuing since mid-afternoon, and Ethan sipped his beer, his stomach pleasantly full. He made sure he didn’t drink too much, since he had another birthday surprise for Clay later.
The yard was packed with lawn chairs, their friends and family showing up from all over. Pete and his girlfriend had flown in from Bali, Sam and Jase had come from Sydney, and even Barb and Barry—still Baz to everyone else, although Ethan thought they said it with affection now—had come from Christchurch.
Clay’s sister, Jen, and her husband and kids were all there of course, along with a few grandkids. It still blew Ethan’s mind that Clay was soon to be a grandfather himself, but he supposed that’s what happened when you married young.
Sitting nearby in the armchair Ethan and Jase had wrestled out of the living room was Sally, Clay’s mom. Ethan freaking loved Sally. And she loved him. Sure, he had to tell her his name every time he saw her, but it didn’t matter.
Taking his beer, Ethan kissed Clay’s cheek and got up, scratching Gilly’s head when he barked to protest Ethan daring to move from under his furry heat.
Kneeling by Sally’s chair, Ethan adjusted his hearing aids to try and block out the sound behind him and said, “Hey, Sal. Having a good time?” She was small and plump, wearing her usual capri pants and flowered T-shirt. Her graying curls were still highlighted copper.
She beamed at him. “I am.” Sometimes she was cranky and could be a real handful, but other times she was content and peaceful. Ethan was grateful tonight was one of those days. She said something he missed, and then added, “I like this movie.”
“Yeah. It’s a good one. It’s The Ashes.”
She was quiet for a minute, watching the cricket. Then, glancing around the yard, she asked, “Are we at a wedding?”
“No, but you did come to a wedding here a few years ago. When I married Clay.” His heart swelled at the memory. “It was a night just like this. Warm and breezy, but not too hot. Here, I’ll show you.” He pulled out his phone and scrolled to his favorite photo.
He and Clay wore tan linen pants and white short-sleeved shirts open at the collar, Clay with a blue belt and Ethan with red. They were in this yard, the sun setting across the sky in swathes of pink-orange. Not quite as good as a Mission Beach sunrise, but Perth sunsets were a joy all their own, and since they’d gone to Mission Beach for their honeymoon, they’d had the best of both worlds.
Ethan held up the screen so Sally could see. “This is me and Clay on our wedding day. Right here.” They’d rented a flower-covered archway for the little ceremony, and they were standing under it for photos afterward. But this wasn’t one the hired photographer took. It was a snap Sam had caught after someone made a joke, and Ethan and Clay were looking at whoever had said it.
They were holding hands and laughing, and in the split second captured forever, their joy and love were plain to see. It was perfect. Ethan liked that picture more than any of the posed ones.
Sally blinked at the screen. “Doesn’t my Clay look handsome?”
“He does. Always.” Ethan went to another pic. “And here you are in this one. That’s my aunt and uncle, and there’s Jen, and Sam, and Pete.”
“That looks like a lovely wedding.”
“It was.” Ethan’s chest tightened with a pang of longing. “My parents would have loved it. Especially my mom.”
Ethan showed her a few more pictures, then kissed her soft cheek, ducking inside the house when Sam beckoned. She said something, but a cheer from outside drowned it out. Ethan squinted, and she repeated herself.
“Should we do the cake? Jen said the little ones have to get home to bed soon.”
“Yeah, good idea.”
They’d hidden the massive slab cake in a cooler and carefully pulled it out now. Sam tied back her blonde curls. “All right, fifty candles.” She handed Ethan a lighter and picked up another.
“Let’s do this.” Ethan gave her a fist bump.
As they worked, Sam asked, “Business is going well? Yours, I mean. I know his is. Brilliant that he got number one on TripAdvisor for small tours.”
Ethan grinned, pride swelling. “He’s worked so hard. He signed a deal for a fourth minibus. And of course he can do all the mechanic work himself, so that saves on overhead. He hires great drivers and guides too.”
She winced and whipped her hand back, apparently having gotten too close to a flame. “I’m damn proud of him. And you! A consultant now. Charging big bucks to those rich companies?”
“You know it. And I get to work from home where it’s nice and quiet.” The candles were almost all lit now, the heat from them making Ethan sweat. “Okay, we almost got it.”
“Three, two…” Sam lit the final one. “Okay, go, go! Jase! Get the door and mute the TV!” she bellowed, and Ethan cringed away from the sound, laughing.
He and Sam each carried an end, walking slowly, wax melting all over the blue and yellow frosting. They laughed into “Happy Birthday,” and everyone joined in, including a howling Gilly, Clay laughing and shaking his head at the amount of fire coming toward him. It was a mess of noise, but it was joyous.
Clay stood, and Barb said, “Make a wish for the next fifty years, Mr. Kelly.”
Looking at Ethan, Clay smiled softly and said nothing. Then he leaned over to blow, Ethan and Sam helping him in the end, laughter all around them.
Later, while Clay had a quick shower before bed, Ethan changed into his other little surprise. The traditional white uniform pants hugged his slim legs. He’d gone with a smaller size so they’d be a little tighter than normal. It wasn’t like he was going to play cricket in them.
Or keep them on very long.
The white, long-sleeved shirt fit perfectly, and he adjusted the baggy green cap on his head. Ethan quickly checked himself in the mirrored closet door and grinned at his reflection. Yes. Clay was going to like his birthday surprise.
Ethan realized he hadn’t planned out where to wait. Lounging on the bed? Standing by the bed? Sitting on the bed? Or should he be by the door? He could stand by the massive framed photo of a perfectly pink Mission Beach that decorated one wall. Or in the middle of the floor? Maybe—
Through the half-open door to the adjoining bathroom, he thought he heard the water shut off. Tiptoeing closer, he strained, listening. Then the door opened, and all he could do was stand there and try to look sexy.
Clay jolted to a stop in the doorway, a towel slung around his hips, water clinging to his chest hair. He was still muscular and fucking gorgeous. His gold wedding band gleamed on his finger. He stared at Ethan in wonder.
Ethan cocked an eyebrow and went for a cricket pun. “Did I bowl you over?”
Bursting out laughing, Clay strode the few steps between them and hauled Ethan into his arms, his skin damp and warm. He lifted Ethan clear off his feet before putting him down and giving him a delighted grin.
“Too right you did. Strewth, you look incredible. I don’t know where to start.” He leaned back, his eyes roaming over Ethan’s body and hands following.
“Lose the towel, for starters.”
Giving him a smoldering glance, his blue eyes hooded, Clay did. Then he pushed Ethan backwards until Ethan met the high bed frame, a solid, rustic gumtree. He leaned against it as Clay dropped to his knees and yanked at the fly on Ethan’s uniform pants.
Ethan threaded his fingers through Clay’s hair, which shone a burnished copper, the overhead light also catching Ethan’s gold band. “Happy birthday. You can pretend I’m Adam Gilchrist.” He grinned when Clay looked up.
But Clay shook his head, speaking slowly and clearly. “Don’t need him. Only you. Always you.”
Then Clay took him in his mouth, and Ethan moaned, sweet pleasure and affection flowing through his veins. He’d married the man of his dreams, and their honeymoon went on and on.
