it because he gave it to me. It was a small piece of him I couldn’t part with. Not until after Dante left, did I wonder how he always knew where I was. It wasn’t like Dante was still with me to report back to him. I was tempted to ask Max to scan it for me, to verify my assumption. But then people would learn the link he has to me.
Someday.
When I’m ready to let go. But not yet. For now, he makes me smile when I receive his gifts. He loves me fiercely. I might not be his, but he saved my life.
I grab a thumbtack from the drawer and hang the picture right next to the cash register.
“It’s perfect,” Ryker says, pulling me into his chest.
Chapter Forty-Three
Ryker
“This is the coolest place.” Aspen beams.
Watching new experiences through her eyes will never get old. She spins on her toes, taking in the surroundings of the small cafe under the Brooklyn Bridge. Her skin-tight purple dress shows off her petite build, but accentuates every delicious curve she has. Even after months here, she still only wears a minimal amount of makeup, showing off her natural beauty.
Twinkling lights hang overhead, the sun setting behind the city’s skyline creates a warm glow as a backdrop. The air is finally warm enough for her to enjoy the nights without a sweater. I slip my fingers through hers and guide her into the restaurant. Her gaze jumps around the empty dining room, confused. “Is it closed?”
I direct my gaze toward a single table by the window set for two. The room’s light dims and the candles on our table flicker. “That’s our table.”
She lifts a brow. “How do we have the place to ourselves?”
I lean down and whisper in her ear. “I know people.” Her cheeks redden when her laugh echoes in the empty room. As if on cue, the owner greets us.
“Bonjour, Mr. Dallas. So glad to see you.” After a quick handshake, I introduce Aspen. He takes her hand in his and kisses the top of it. “Ms. Foley, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
“Merci de nous avoir invités.”
Benny’s eyes widen, and he flashes a big toothy grin at Aspen’s French. He replies, “N’importe quoi pour ce gars. Il n’a jamais été aussi heureux.”
I twist my lip, hating I don’t understand what they’re saying. “Okay, enough of that. I know you’re talking about me.”
They both laugh and he winks at her. I slide my hand around her narrow waist and pull her into my side. A thought races through my mind about our kids talking about me in French, probably calling me names.
My body stills and Aspen looks up at me. “What’s wrong?”
“Absolutely nothing,” I say, my lips tug to a smile. The thought of kids has never excited me before right now. “But tell me what you guys said.”
“I said ‘thank you for having us’ and he replied, ‘anything for you. And you’ve never been so happy.’” I narrow my eyes, debating if I believe her. She laughs. “I swear that’s what we said.”
After ordering our drinks, a pianist plays on the tiny stage. Aspen twists in her seat to see him. Her eyes stay glued to him the entire song. She claps when he finishes and he responds with a grin and bow. When he starts another song, she turns back to me.
“He’s incredible.”
I nod in agreement and push my chair back and stand. “Dance with me?”
Her eyes gleam as she stands and takes my hand. “I’d love to.”
Seconds into the song, someone starts to sing along with the piano. Aspen looks over her shoulder. The man sings “You Are The Reason” by Calum Scott. I hold her close to me as the words of the song wrap around us in a tight bond. There’s not a slice of air between us.
“I loved that song,” she whispers, her eyes glossing over. Me too. That’s why I chose it. We continue to sway to the next song. My cheek rests against her forehead.
She pulls back and whiskey-colored eyes connect with mine, the same ones that made me realize there was something missing in my life. Made me realize that my love for football was only skin deep, yet my love for her is so deep inside me that it makes my entire being shift every time I’m with her.
“What’s on your mind, Ball Boy?” Her smile lights up the dim room.
“Just thinking how important you are to me.” Her expression