The SEAL's Valentine. Laura Marie Altom

we all need to sing to you and let you blow out the candles on your cake.”

      “Okay. Is Mr. Tristan here? I want him to play pirate!”

      “I haven’t seen him.” She looked around. “But maybe he’ll be here soon?”

      “Hope so! He’s cool!”

      Cayden went back to his fort, where his friend Dominic hung upside down while eating grape Laffy Taffy. “Well? Is Coach Tristan coming?”

      “Maybe.” Cayden not only told all his friends the cool SEAL would be there, but Dominic said his mom told him that Tristan was gonna help Cayden with his hitting. Cayden hoped since it was his birthday, Tristan was just waiting to tell him about it at the party.

      The longer the party was, the more Cayden worried Tristan wasn’t gonna come. Everyone he knew on the whole planet was there—except for his dad and old friends back in St. Louis. Even Coach Jason and his wife and their bad little kid were in the backyard.

      For a few minutes, while blowing out his candles and opening presents, Cayden forgot about his new grown-up friend, but it was weird, no matter how many great toys he got, he still felt kinda sad about not seeing Tristan.

      * * *

      “YOU WERE KIND TO INVITE an old geezer like me to your son’s big day.” Georgia helped herself to seconds of Cayden’s chocolate, pirate-themed cake.

      “Stop,” Brynn said from the lawn chair she was embarrassingly trapped in. “You get around far better than I do. Pretty sure I’m stuck.”

      In a flash, Georgia was up and had Brynn’s hands, tugging her to her feet.

      “Thanks.” Laughing, Brynn was surprised by the easy camaraderie she felt with the neighbor she’d avoided for so long. Yet in the same respect, the snippets of happiness she stole like this were what stood to hurt the most should her world once again fall apart.

      Georgia had already returned her focus to cake. “Kindly don’t sit again until I’m done.”

      “I won’t,” Brynn promised.

      “Is that Tristan?”

      Was it wrong that just hearing his name caused Brynn’s heart to skip a beat? Striving for a casual tone, she asked, “Where?”

      “He’s gone now, but I swear I just saw him pulling one of your old tricks and ducking behind my hedge.” With a put-out sigh, she dropped her paper cake plate back to the picnic table. “At this rate, I’ll never satisfy my sweet tooth.”

      Though the party was in full swing around her, classic Beach Boys playing on the ancient stereo she’d hauled outside, and practically every soul she’d met since moving to Ruin Bayou milling about her backyard, Brynn’s gaze—her very breath—felt centered around the sight of Georgia tugging a sheepish-looking Tristan from behind her overgrown forsythia.