A Guy Walks Into My Bar - Lauren Blakely Page 0,122
grin. “Well, if he looks at her the way we did outside the Tube station, this whole boathouse will go up in flames. I know I did. That’s when you told me how much you loved fucking me.”
He laughs heartily, draping his arm around my shoulders. “Let’s go with the riverboat cruise, then. That was moderately chaste for us. But I was also pretty damn hooked on you by then. And that means he’s screwed if she doesn’t feel the same.”
“Do you think he’s even aware he’s got it bad for Bryn’s best friend?”
Fitz shrugs, lowering his voice another notch. Not sure. But he had his heart broken a while ago, and at laser tag the other week, Bryn and I were saying she’d be good for him. Whether he figures that out is anyone’s guess, but she did win him at the charity auction.”
“The one you’re never participating in again?”
Fitz holds up his hand, running his thumb over his platinum band. “Um, yeah. Taken. Hello? But that raises an interesting point. Would you have bid on me? Like, say you never met me, hypothetically. And you went to the auction and saw me onstage. In the Win a Date with a Player auction.”
I laugh. “You’re assuming I’d have been at the auction.”
“Work with me. Pretend you were. Pretend I’m onstage all smoldering and sexy. You’d have bid on me, right?”
This man. He has always made me laugh. “No. Of course not.”
“Why not? I’m irresistible. You said it yourself.”
I set a hand on his back. “I’ve seen the way you stare at me. I’d never need to bid on you. You’d have jumped off the stage and into the audience just to ask me out on a date.”
Fitz pretends to consider this. “You are so cocky, but also so right.”
We swing past Teagan and Ransom, and Fitz mouths to him, Go for it.
Ransom points to his ear, mouthing back, I can’t hear you, then smiles at Teagan once again, looking wrapped up in whatever they’re saying.
“Some guys don’t see what’s in front of them,” Fitz says.
That’s definitely true, not just for guys, but for everyone. I look over at Maeve and Sam, holding tight to each other on the dance floor. I flash back on that moment at the sushi lunch last year, when something seemed to be brewing. That was months ago, but Maeve needed that time, needed those months. Seeing her now, she’s ready for all that love has to offer her.
Perhaps that’s the true key to happiness. Seeing it. Recognizing it. Having the guts to go for it. To know you deserve it. I reach for my husband’s hand, thread my fingers through his, look at our joined hands, then meet his eyes.
“I am not one of those guys. I know exactly what I have in front of me.”
His grin melts me. “Everything.”
And I give him his favorite word from me. “Yes.”
Soon enough, we say goodbye to all our friends and family, and we head to the hotel, making good on all our wedding night promises.
The next morning, we catch a flight to Europe, and we go to Copenhagen, like we talked about doing one morning when we were tangled up in the sheets of a hotel bed in London.
The capital of Denmark is both picturesque and cosmopolitan, with cobbled streets right alongside skyscrapers. We spend our days wandering around the city, taking boat rides and bike rides, and checking out the sights, doing what we’ve always done together.
Talking, laughing, having the best time.
One evening, we stop at a bar and grab beers to drink outside, when I spot a tall, strapping blond Dane walk by.
Fitz scoots closer to me, nodding to the guy. “Told you the men were hot.”
I arch a brow. “Are you honestly going to perv on other men on our fucking honeymoon?”
Licking his lips, he gives me a salacious grin. He laughs, then shakes his head. “No. I can’t even pretend. Not even in a fantasy. But you know what I want?”
“What do you want?”
“I want your fantasies, Dean. Tell me what you’d do to me right now. If we were in our room? Whisper it in my ear.”
I run my hand over the ink on his muscular arm. “Ah, that I can do. I can definitely tell you all the filthy things I want to do with this body. I like that a lot better.” I move in closer, flicking my tongue over his earlobe. “Bite your neck.”