SO SWEET
The song credit goes to Johnathan Rice's "So Sweet."
Back then when the heartbreak came yeah it hit me pretty hard
I waved hello and goodbye to the ghosts on the boulevard
Well oh my baby you're so sweet it makes me cry
Well oh my baby you're so sweet it makes me cry
You're so sweet
You're so sweet
You're so sweet
I wanna cry
"I'll have my phone turned to silent, but leave a message if you need me. I've left you the emergency contact information right, if you can't get a hold me?" Robin looked from one Jones to the other. Technically Dillon wasn't recognized by the state as Lucas' husband, but they had made it official a year before Lance's birth. That was when they had sought out a surrogate. Sage Alcazar had been the appropriate choice. They had given her the offer of an open adoption, but she had skipped town two days after giving birth to their only son.
Dillon nodded enthusiastically, his eyes wide as he tried to take in everything she was telling them. He snaked his arms around Lance and rocked his little body from side to side. "Robin, everything will be fine. Go. Enjoy your night." Dillon replied confidently. Lucas ruffled Lance's hair and the boy shoved away from his parents, his attention now focused on his new train set. The boy motioned an amused Morgan over to play with him. Robin watched her son bounce toward his cousin.
"Lance has been begging for Morgan to come and stay the night." Lucas admitted, looking sheepish for not setting it up earlier. He lowered his voice adding, "I just didn't want to push, you know so soon after my sister's death."
"Lucas, there's no need to apologize. With all you've done for me, I should be able to make time for you and your family. It's my fault for keeping Morgan cooped up with me." Robin waved off his apology.
"Alright kids," Dillon directed Lucas and Robin. "We've got the emergency numbers and we all remember 911 just in case we forget everything else."
Noticing that his husband's answer hadn't put Robin's stressed features at ease, Lucas took Robin's hands in his. "We won't let him out of our sight. Now, don't you have a party to plan?" That said, he shoved a clumsy Robin out the door and turned toward the children. "Smells like dinner is done." He lifted his nose to further prove his point.
"Smells like cookies." Morgan noticed.
"And--?" Dillon looked confused.
Robin stabbed her key into the driver's side door lock and twisted it until she heard a satisfying click. Forcing her frayed nerves to relax, she gripped the steering wheel, flipped on the headlights, and took a look at herself in the rearview mirror. The mirror proved that her makeup was flawless and her hair was still cooperating in its crown of ringlets. The dress she had chosen on was burgundy and the sleeves were barely wide enough to cover her shoulders, leaving her arms exposed to the chilly night air. For a town that hadn't seen rain all summer, the ground was moist and the smell of fresh-cut sunk in through the rolled-up windows. Robin leaned back against the seat glancing down at her black pumps. Her painted toenails matched her dress and the barrette she had the sides of her hair pulled into. The light application of mascara she had applied added volume and intensity to her normally bland brown eyes. Her lips were slick and shiny with strawberry lip-gloss. Why was she so nervous? She knew what tonight held. She was in total control.
Though she tried to give Morgan a normal, structured, cookie-cutter life, she, herself, missed the spontaneity she used to crave. How many other twenty-four-year-olds had taken over responsibility for a six-year-old boy while still trying to balance a social life? She figured a few, but she wasn't exactly cut out for the job. It was why she would have stayed hidden in her little shell. She would have been perfectly content, would have convinced herself that motherhood was all she needed to make her complete.
And then there was the matter of Patrick Drake. She had been just fine with him hating her. He made her a nutcase when he was around, still did, knowing how to push her buttons to get the desired reactions. She had written him off as a soulless bastard with commitment issues and the ability to bury a grudge without so much as blinking an eye. It baffled her how fast things had escalated between them, how much had changed in the short time they had spent together. No longer did she go to sleep feeling forgotten and left out, especially when she would get a card from an old friend announcing an engagement.
Engagement? She doubted it was in the cards for her and Patrick. For one thing, she wanted to be in love if and when she remarried, no more Logan's or she might as well step through the gates of hell and make herself comfortable. She didn't want to be with someone who blamed all of their shortcomings on her, nor did she want to hold them back from anything. Patrick was perfect in that respect, because he was so self-assured she'd never be able to change his way of thinking. She didn't want to change him. She just wanted to be with him.
Finally pulling out of the driveway, she signaled a left turn and then swerved into traffic, the driver behind her clearly not paying attention. It was lucky for him that she was such a cautious and intelligent person, because if he had crashed into her and knocked her hair loose, she would have surely killed him. Tonight had to be just right. She doubted Patrick would expect her to make such a big deal about it and, while she knew the Spencer's would celebrate later in the week, probably the weekend since it was mid-week now, she knew he was alone. Neither Noah nor Logan would pay the day any attention and that realization pissed her off.
Having already picked up the party decorations--candles, balloons, confetti, wine, blanket, wicker basket, etc--and gotten a spare key from the super at Patrick's apartment, Robin had no trouble getting up to the roof to lay the groundwork for her surprise. She unpacked her bag of goodies and spread the thin purple and white blanket down first smiling when she thought about how Patrick would regard it once he saw it for himself. She would save lighting the candles for last in case it took longer than she anticipated. She didn't want to set the roof ablaze. Finding a black plastic crate in the corner, she pulled it over to the little area and covered it with a navy blue tablecloth. In the bottom of the bag, she discovered the silver metal pail and bag of ice. Wanting to have the wine chilling for a few minutes while she distracted Patrick somehow, she carefully placed the green bottle inside the pail with ease. She sighed when the sweet garlic aroma of their dinner tickled her nose. She didn't care whether it was lazy or not: she had bought already blown-up balloons. Hiding the large bag of confetti behind the crate, she went over every painstaking detail and didn't make her way to the stairs until she was absolutely satisfied.
Patrick slowly padded toward the door, his hair standing in all directions as he wondered who would bother him right now. The family brigade had given him days to prepare for his birthday celebration. Plus, it was the middle of the week. He couldn't expect anyone to put together something special after a long day at work. He, himself, had only been customer-free for an hour, and, in that hour, he had snuggled in for an early bedtime. Let the guys say he was getting old; they didn't deal with his clientele.
He had never enjoyed a surprise so much in his life, and that included the time Lucky had introduced him to Sarah McLachlan. The sight of Robin Scorpio standing in his doorway was enough to bring an instant smile to his face. She must have been trying to hide the balloons behind her back, but they kept bobbing out and smacking her in the back of the head. Laughing, he licked his bottom lip and reveled in how beautiful she was. She preferred to keep her hair tied back in a strict ponytail most days so Patrick was completely undone by the thick cinnamon ringlets dancing in front of her face. He took a step toward her, wanting to touch them, his smile widening when he realized that he could touch them, could play with them, and she wouldn't mind a bit. That was the difference, he supposed, in a relationship.
Along with a million other little things, he reminded himself. It was no longer all about him, and when he was available; now he had to work around her schedule and get used to not always getting his way. He had never been a patient man, but he noticed himself satisfied with simply touching Robin, kissing her know-it-all mouth, or losing his breath at the sight of her smiling at him. She was smiling now, her eyes closed, reveling in the feel of his hand on her cheek. He wanted to kiss her, so he did that too, closed the distance separating them and tugged her toward him, groaning dramatically when she stumbled into his arms. Not waiting for her tentative lips to part for him, he slipped his tongue between them and let her taste fill him, distract him, drive him crazy. Kissing her was like tasting a candy bar and he wanted to devour her.
Robin pulled back first, her sweet lips dark and swollen from his avid mouth, and rested her forehead against his to catch her breath. "I would have settled for a nice hello." She assured him, though her glittering eyes gave her away. Patrick stroked her face softly, looking like he might kiss her again but holding back.
"To what do I owe this pleasure?" Only Patrick could make every word that came out of his mouth sensual and Robin giggled like an idiot in response. She had to focus. The wine should be chilled by now. Grabbing Patrick's wrist, momentarily confusing him, she calculated that they had made out for a good five minutes, a record where she was concerned. If she didn't have a party waiting for him on the roof, she might have lingered a bit longer.
"Happy birthday!" Robin shrieked, retrieving the balloons from their spot on the carpet behind her. They surely would have flown away if not for the paper weight she had tied to them to. Closer inspection proved that it was a yellow ducky. He knew he should learn to control himself, but she just made it so hard. Snatching her to him again, he nuzzled her neck, listening to her girly giggle.
"Well it is now." Patrick told her, dropping his head to her shoulder and planting a few kisses there. With her this close to him, his hands on her forearms, he was able to pick up on the way her skin warmed under his touch. "Isn't it past your bedtime, Scorpio?"
Robin shook her head, looking like she might want to say something snide, but letting the silence stretch on. She was still smiling so he knew he shouldn't push his luck. Taking a giant step backwards, he disentangled himself from her.
"You know, I just seem to have forgotten my pajamas." She didn't mind teasing him and he was never going to complain. If her eyes didn't look so damn purposeful, he might have said to hell with whatever she had planned and kiss her again.
"I can help you with that." He murmured his eyes darker than she had ever seen them. A shiver slid down her back and she swallowed hard, the lump in her throat growing every second she remained silent.
"Nice try, but I have other plans for us tonight." Robin explained, finding her voice at last.
"Do you now?" Patrick challenged, lifting an eyebrow at her.
"I most certainly do. Now--" Though he had just been holding her, Robin hadn't realized that Patrick was only in a long t-shirt and a pair of boxers. She definitely couldn't drag him out onto the roof in this little clothing. "Get dressed. I have a surprise for you."
"And it requires clothing? Sounds much more complicated than my idea." Patrick grumbled good-naturedly.
Robin leaned in as if she was about to let him in on something private. Intrigued, he followed the movement with his eyes and didn't step back when her hair brushed over his forehead. "I wasn't going to tell you this…" She began, her eyes heavy lidded. "But you aren't as cute as you think you are."
Patrick hopped back. "And on my birthday!" He feigned hurt, bringing his right hand to slam into his chest and resting it over his heart. "I am pained, Robin. Truly broken."
"I bet I can make you feel better." Robin replied unfazed.
"Oh yeah?" Patrick didn't look convinced, but his arched brows proved that he was at least interested.
"Clothes! Now!" Robin insisted, shoving him into the apartment.
"You are such a baby." Robin crooned as she leaned back in Patrick's arms. Instantly, his free hand rested across her stomach while he used the other to shove a bite of spaghetti into her mouth.
"You don't like me feeding you?" Patrick asked, spotting a bit of sauce on Robin's chin. Wiping it off with his thumb, he brought to his lips and sucked it dry.
"You made me feed you first." Robin reminded him, though really she hadn't minded.
"It's my birthday." He said for the hundredth time that night.
"You know, after tonight, that excuse isn't going to work." Robin assured him.
"Yes, but I can wear the hell out of it tonight." Patrick reasoned, lifting the fork to her mouth.
"Oh!" Robin started to get up, but he caught her wrist in his hand.
"Get back down here." He ordered.
"I forgot to light the candles." She informed him, hoping he would release her hand while also glancing around for the matches.
"I don't need candles." Patrick argued, trying to convince her to sit back down.
"You can't have a cake without candles." Robin shook her head.
"I'm not five, Robin." Patrick pointed out.
"I just want it to be special for you." Robin pouted thoughtfully.
"Babe." He didn't say anything else, just got to his feet and helped her look for the damn candles.
"There!" Robin snatched the box of matches and Patrick found the candles. Leaving him alone for a second, she reached behind the crate and took the white pastry box from where she had hidden it. It had been a split-second decision to move the confetti to the picnic basket. Taking the metal pail from the top of the crate, she set the box down and lifted the lid so that Patrick could inspect the cake for himself. It was a chocolate cake with white icing and green writing that spelled out "Happy Birthday." Patrick couldn't understand why those two little words brought tears to his eyes.
"What do you think?" Robin's attention was focused on the cake so she didn't notice him wipe the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand.
"It's perfect. You didn't have to do all of this." Patrick told her.
"Do you not like it?" At her concern, he quickly shook his head.
"I love it." He promised, kissing the tip of her nose.
"I just…I know how much I always loved having a cake on my birthday. I thought you might like one too." Taking a breath, she continued, "I didn't want you to be alone. I wanted to spend tonight with you." Robin explained, not sure why she felt compelled to do so. There was something almost melancholic in Patrick's tone as he spoke to her.
"I want that too. You know, I've never had a birthday cake on my birthday. The Spencers always plan it for a time when we're not so busy." Patrick divulged the information without a hint of hesitation. He wanted her to know; he just wasn't sure why.
"What about your parents?" Robin wondered. She had heard plenty of stories about Noah, but she had never actually met him. Just from what she knew about Mattie Drake, it was hard to imagine her not giving her son a cake on his birthday.
"Logan was a sick baby, a sick kid really. Her attention was always torn between us and, while she'd apologize later for it, my birthday was always celebrated late." He waited for the guilt of being with his brother's ex-wife to creep in, but it didn't. What's more, Robin didn't look hurt by the mention of his brother.
There wasn't a thing she could think to say. Speaking at all would have trampled all over the moment. He was allowing himself to be vulnerable to her and she didn't want to make him sorry for it. Tugging on his right sleeve, she wrapped both of her arms around his right one and buried her face in his gray button-down. He scooped a hand through her hair, his touch so incredibly gentle she knew she didn't have to worry about him messing it up. Not that she cared.