After two hours had finally dragged by, Arianna tugged on Maxwell’s hand, pulling him toward the car. "That’s it, let’s go home!"

Maxwell still seemed reluctant to call it a night.

For as long as they had been married, this was the first time they had actually walked hand-in-hand through the neighborhood. The night air hung heavy with a dry, summer heat, and the constant hum of cicadas filled the silence between them. The night market was teeming with people—a chaotic, electric atmosphere where the scent of barbecue skewers—charred meat coated in thick, glossy sauce, finished with a heavy dusting of chili and cumin—collided with the cool breeze of a summer evening.

Maxwell fastened his seatbelt, already mapping out their next outing. "There’s a park over on the Westside. It’s much bigger than this one. Should we check it out next time?"

"Sure," she said.

A momentary lapse in Arianna’s navigation led them into a congested stretch of road, pushing their arrival home thirty minutes past schedule. As they pulled up to their place, they bumped into the building's concierge service, who was just pulling up with a delivery.

"Your order, Ms. Stone," the concierge said, putting his phone away with a smile. "I was just about to call you."

"Thank you, I appreciate it."

"Not a problem at all."

Maxwell stood behind her, looking completely lost.

Once the concierge left, Arianna held the cake box out in front of him. "What’s with that look?"

She tipped her head, a teasing glint in her eyes. "Why do you look so dazed?"

Maxwell stared at the cake in her hands for a long beat. "You bought this for me?"

Arianna beamed. "I did."

For a split second, Maxwell seemed to lose the ability to process anything. He said, almost mechanically, "It’s not my birthday today."

God, he was such a dork. A ridiculously lovable one.

Arianna’s eyes crinkled, her voice dropping to a soft, melodic lilt. "I heard a quote once."

"Yeah?"

"You don't need a birthday to justify a cake. It doesn't have to have any grand meaning. Sometimes, it’s just because you want to see someone happy." She paused, her smile softening. "But it does have another purpose today. I’m celebrating you closing that deal."

"I hope things just keep getting better for you."

Under the glow of the streetlamp, light danced in Maxwell’s eyes. He looked at her with a depth of emotion that felt like drowning. For a fleeting second, Arianna could have sworn she saw the shimmer of unshed tears in his gaze.

Without a word, he stepped forward, took the cake from her hands, and linked his fingers through hers. "Let's go. We're home."

He didn't show a flicker of excitement.

As she entered the entry code, Arianna felt a pang of uncertainty. *Did he hate the cake? Was this not his favorite flavor? Did I somehow screw this up?*

She was so lost in her own head that she fumbled the code, typing it wrong twice.

She stood there, embarrassed, preparing to try again, when Maxwell reached over, his hand brushing hers. He input the code with practiced, fluid grace and pushed the door open. He stepped inside first, and Arianna followed.

Maxwell set the cake on the foyer console table. Arianna was just about to ask if he wanted to eat it now or later, or if it should go in the fridge, when he pivoted.

He didn't say a word. He simply closed the distance, caught her by the waist, and pressed her back against the door, leaning down to claim her lips.

Arianna’s breath hitched.

The kiss was sudden, absolute, and overwhelming. He was gentle yet insistent, tracing the line of her lips, moving with the elegant, predatory focus of a wolf closing in on its prey. Their breaths tangled, and he began to invade every inch of her space.

Arianna stood there, stunned, her eyes wide as she looked at him.

Maxwell sensed her hesitation. He pulled back just enough to let out a low, frustrated chuckle. He traced a thumb over her flushed, swollen lower lip, his voice dropping into a ragged, dark register. "Arianna. Close your eyes."

Her cheeks burned, but she obeyed, closing her eyes tightly.

Pinned against the wood of the door, she felt his large palm slide firmly against the small of her back, while his other hand interlaced with her fingers, locking their hands together.

Maxwell lowered his head, his expression dark and unreadable.

His kiss turned aggressive, hungry, as he plunged into her mouth, greedily drinking in the sweet air she gave him. Her lips began to tingle from the intensity of the friction. Arianna pushed at his chest, a soft, muffled sound escaping her.

Maxwell instantly softened. He traced the tip of his tongue against hers in a slow, soothing rhythm, his palm rubbing slow, grounding circles against her waist to calm her racing heart.

When the long, heavy silence of the kiss finally broke, Arianna leaned her head against the door, desperate for a lungful of oxygen.

Maxwell pressed his forehead against hers, his finger pads gently wiping away the sheen of moisture from the corner of her mouth. His voice was a raw rasp. "Arianna. Thank you."

"I really am happy today."

"Are you?" Her brain was still rebooting, and she let the words slip out before she could check them. "Because out there... you didn't really look like it."

Arianna clamped her mouth shut instantly.

Looking back, she realized he hadn't been unhappy; he had been suppressing an entirely different kind of hunger. The kiss he’d just given her proved exactly what that was.

She kept her mouth shut, trying to pivot to anything else.

Maxwell wouldn't let her off the hook. He raised an eyebrow, watching her with a look of predatory amusement. "Did I not make it obvious enough for you?"

"If the Mrs. doesn't believe me, I don't mind proving it a second time."

"No, no," Arianna surrendered, her face turning crimson. "I get it. I’m a believer. I believe you one hundred percent."

Maxwell smirked. "Words are cheap. Real proof requires action."

"No," Arianna raised her hands to cover her mouth, bracing herself. "Really, no need to prove anything else..."

Maxwell laughed, pulling her into a tight, comforting embrace. "I’m just messing with you, Arianna. Don’t take it so seriously."

Arianna wondered how much of that was actually a joke.

Under her skeptical gaze, Maxwell’s eyes flicked down to her lips once more. He hummed softly, "Your lips are so red right now. We can save the rest for later."

"Come on. Let’s go eat that cake."