The What If Guy - Lauren Blakely Page 0,63
big heart and wonderful soul.
That’s why the next thing I have to do is easy.
When Amelia and I head for Central Park, away from the noise of the cars and cabs, where buses fade to a background hum, I clear my throat. “So, there’s someone I want you to meet later this week.”
Her big brown eyes sparkle, and her mouth forms an O. “Is it the author we wrote to? Is she giving her cats superpowers? That would be amazing.”
I laugh, squeezing her hand as we head to the playground. “That would be amazing, and we will keep the dream alive. But . . .” I pause briefly to see if nerves descend on me, if worry grips me. But neither arrive. I only feel good about this decision. Bryn and I have been texting and talking the last few days, and this next step feels right. Just as I want our relationship in the open, I want my daughter to know what’s making me so happy. “I met someone I like.”
Amelia furrows her brow. “Like, an author? Or a cartoonist?”
Okay, maybe it’s not completely easy. “A woman. A woman I like. I’m dating someone.”
“Oh. Is she nice?” Amelia says, asking the simplest of questions.
I give the simplest of answers. “She’s great. She’s kind and smart and funny, and she loves cats. And I’d like for you to meet her.”
Amelia smiles. “She sounds cool. You should give her a gift. I like gifts. I’m going to go on the swings now. Bye.”
And she runs off to the playground a few feet away.
Well, I guess that was easy.
As she pumps her feet to get the swing going, I send a text to Bryn.
Logan: Amelia says you sound cool. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.
Bryn: She’s correct. I am cool. Also, same to you. :)
Then, an idea pops into my head, and I know an excellent gift for Bryn.
29
Bryn
As the wheels touch down on the tarmac, I stretch my neck from side to side, grateful to be back in New York a little earlier than expected on Wednesday.
While we taxi, I turn my phone back on, and the emails slide into my inbox like coins in a slot machine.
I cruise through as many as I can, replying to my friend Paisley about her blog, then spot one that makes me sit up and actually say oh out loud. It’s from Hadley, the former owner of The Dating Pool. She’s asking if I’ll take a look at her new blog about amusement parks. You’ve always had such great insight on what works. Blinking, I click on the link, surprised she came to me for advice.
Surprised and impressed. It’s more than a little blog about rides. It’s a whole travel site, with road trips and suggestions, and it’s utterly delightful, but it needs some work to iron out the clunkiness.
I send a quick reply telling her I’ll send her details later, but I’m grateful she asked.
Then, as the plane rolls to a stop, I spot a new text.
Logan: Any chance you could be free tonight? Casey has a thing tomorrow and wants to see if we can meet this evening instead. Also, hope you had a safe flight, sweetheart. And I can’t wait to get you on your knees, rope my fingers in your hair, and tug it hard while I fuck you to many, many orgasms. <3
I laugh privately, a burst of naughty tingles rushing through my body.
Bryn: You are filthy, sweet, and businesslike all in one text.
Logan: I am a multitasking master.
Bryn: Yes, I can meet tonight. Flight arrived early.
Logan: Good. I can see you, and then I can bend you over
the bed later tonight, since I am kid-free.
Bryn: And once more, he shows off his multitasking.
Logan: Bet I can fuck you and kiss you at the same time. Want that kind of multitask?
Bryn: Do you truly have to ask?
After I’ve freshened up, I head to Speakeasy in Midtown, saying hello to the redhead who owns the bar. “Hi, Julia. You’re looking fabulous.” I blow her a kiss.
“And you look like a goddess,” she says, her eyes traveling with approval over my black skirt and silvery top.
“Takes one to know one,” I reply, then I make my way to the table in the corner where Logan is seated with a pretty blonde. For a few seconds, I get to savor the view of my man—his stubble, his fuck-me do, his soulful eyes—as he listens intently to her. I love that he’s a