Free Spy Games: Birthday Games by Mia Downing

into the bed with Kate snuggled in the middle. Jake always loved this quiet time after sex, though he tried to keep his hands to himself. But Kate grabbed his arm and slung it over her, almost demanding he touch her intimately.
    Chase murmured, “Happy birthday, buddy.”
    “Happy birthday, partner,” Kate said.
    Jake looked at the clock—his birthday for only a few more minutes. “Thanks, Chase. Kate.”
    “What did you wish for when you blew out your candle?” Kate asked, her back pressed along his side, that soft curve of her hip under his hand. He should move it, but he couldn’t, the heat of her sweet skin searing his palm like a branding iron.
    “Isn’t it bad luck to share?” He usually wished for another year of no pregnancies and smooth, trans-Atlantic flights, because that’s what a man whore/spy wished for. But this year…something inside him yearned for what Chase had, the entire package. Never had he envied Chase. Up until Kate, the guy had a shitty life, an even crappier job. But his life had pulled together since meeting Kate, turning his shit luck into something to be admired. Envied.
    “No, you can share,” Kate said.
    Jake sighed and went for the lie. “I’m really happy, Kate. My life is great. I have good friends, four awesome brothers, a healthy mom, a great job, lots of adventure, money. What more can I ask for?” It wasn’t all a lie. Just the happy part, and the not asking for anything more part.
    He felt, rather than saw, her glance at Chase. “Love?”
    Fear skipped up Jake’s spine. Love, the scariest word in a man whore’s life, right up there with the sentence, “I’m pregnant, and it’s yours.” Yet as he stared at the ceiling, his arm around his best friend’s wife, his hand toying with Chase’s hair, he realized she had said a mouthful. That one word defined his life for so many years, and while others ran to it, he ran from it. Marathon-hard. Love wasn’t good, not for him.
    And yet here he was, wondering how the hell he’d fallen for his best friend’s wife.
    Fuck.
    She must have taken his silence for what it was, denial. “Chase found love.”
    “Yes, he did.”
    “He said you were seeing someone. Maybe you’ll learn to love her.”
    God, Tia. Another fucking mess, and his mind went there, too. Often. Only Kate seemed to win in the love race. “Kate. You don’t make a good cupid.”
    “But—”
    Jake cleared his throat and forced a laugh. “Darlin’, you read too many romances. Men like me don’t love. Tell her, Chase.”
    “Slackers like him are too lazy to do the work involved in a relationship. He barely has energy to roll on a condom, but there is the whole pregnancy/STD thing.”
    Jake nodded, for once in his life very disappointed in his buddy’s assessment of him. That was him at thirty-four. But at thirty-five…deep inside, a tiny sliver of him suddenly wanted nothing more than to do the work. All of it. It was as scary as contemplating freefall without a parachute. “Close enough.”
    “But—”
    Jake sucked in a breath and let it whoosh out. “The next time you say love, girlfriend, seeing someone, or bubble wrap in my presence, I’m going to paddle your ass.”
    “You don’t have permission,” she taunted. “Bubble wrap.”
    “Chase?” Jake inquired.
    “Jake has permission.”
    She plopped down, her shoulders stiff as she huffed. “I just want him to be happy,” she whispered.
    Jake stared at the ceiling again, wishing he were looking up at a skyline in some small town while doing surveillance. Hell, hiding out while whacked-out terrorists searched for him in the brush would be better. Anywhere other than a place where Kate was wanting him to be happy.
    But that small sliver of him couldn’t let her be unhappy, either. So he manned up and told the biggest lie of the evening. “I’m real happy, darlin’. This is going to be the best birthday year. You’ll see.”
    Just shoot him now. Thirty-five was going to suck, and